In the wee, small hours of November 11, 1918, in a railroad car on a siding in the Compiegne Forest in France, about 40 miles north of Paris, representatives of the warring factions in World War I concluded three days of negotiations and signed an agreement to bring an end to four years of bloody war. Fighting would cease at 11 a.m. French time on that morning. . . the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month.
Read the entire article in the Nov. 12th edition.
A few weeks ago, David Leggett gave us a very old photo album that his late mother, Eleanor, had kept with her family artifacts. Eleanor, whose passion for family history was well-known to her McBride relatives, treasured every link to the past she could lay her hands on.
Read the entire article in the Nov. 5th edition.
Phyllis Tate grew up here in Mechanicville. The daughter of prominent attorney Frank Tate and his wife, Phyllis, she was the third of four children. As a child, she liked to walk up the street to her dad’s law office in the Enzien block on the corner of Park Avenue and Main Street, where the two would discuss cases, debating the legality of both sides.
Read the entire article in the Oct. 22 edition.
http://issuu.com/expressnewspaper/docs/theexpress_15-1022?e=6277718/30825816
Who among us does not remember the phenomenon that swept the nation one year ago called “the Ice bucket Challenge” when everyone from grandparents to children to celebrities to pro athletes had buckets of freezing water and ice cubes dumped over their heads all to raise money to fund the search for a cure for Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis, known better as ALS or Lou Gehrig’s disease
Read the entire article in the 10-15 issue.
My grandfather, Harry Hosley, was a hunting and fishing guide at the northeast end of Racquette Lake for many years. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of the trips I made to his camp as a child, traveling through the Adirondack Mountains with my father in his 1949 Chevrolet coupe. This was before the Northway was even somebody’s great idea, when the trip of 130 miles was over two-lane state roads, mainly Route 9 and Route 28, up over Blue Mountain, until we reached Deerland. There we turned off onto a narrow macadam road to make our way the final 9 lonely and sparsely populated miles to the bridge of land between Racquette Lake’s Outlet Bay and Forked Lake where Grandpa and his second wife, Pearl, lived in the old Glassbrook house, a one-time lumber camp.
Read the entire article in the Oct. 8th issue.
