Superintendent’s outlook on new school year

By Mary Lou Nahas

For Capital Region Independent Media

Several people have recently asked me for information on Mt. Pisgah, which was quite a resort once on the way up to Windham. 

I’ve written on the topic before but since not everybody reads my columns, I like the topic, and have found some new information, I decided to write again. Also when I googled Mt. Pisgah I found information about places all over the world and in multiple states but nothing from New York or our area.

 “Our” Mt. Pisgah was a major tourist destination in the late 1800s. Miss Mary Cowles, an elderly lady from Durham, told Oriana Atkinson soon after she and Brooks moved to Prink Hill, “Oh, my dear, if you haven’t been to Pisgah top, you just haven’t done ANYthing.” A postcard from August 1909 had the message: “This lovely day finds me on Pisgah and it is so near perfect that probably I am as near heaven as I ever will be.”

Mt. Pisgah was the name of the mountain Moses looked over into the Promised Land [Deuteronomy 34:1]. Our Mt. Pisgah, on the border of Durham and Windham, is now part of the New York State Forest Preserve. A man named Walter Doolittle of Medusa fell in love with Pisgah in 1876 and bought 275 acres of land on it.

According to Beers: Walter S. Doolittle was a native of Albany County, the son of Daniel Doolittle. At six years of age, he came with his parents to Medusa, and they lived at the homestead where Porter Wright later lived. [Probably some of you did know Porter]. Mt. Pisgah was bare then because all the trees had been cut off in 1853. Ralph Hull in his book “A Lifetime of Memories and Experiences,” wrote, “He [my father John Hull] cut wood on Mt. Pisgah with his brother, Will. Lots of folks in town owned two to four acres of land or a wood lot on Mt. Pisgah. They would hire someone to cut the next winter’s wood for them for 50 cents for each face cord. My dad and his brother, Will, would walk over drifted snow from Durham up to Mt. Pisgah carrying a saw, two axes, and a scoop shovel. The shovel was used to clear the snow away from around the trees so the stumps would not be so high in the spring.”

Wesley Brown, related to the Rev. Clement Brown, shared that his grandfather, Ralph Brazee, owned a wood lot up there. It was 10 acres. At some point in time, probably in the late 1920s and into the ‘30s, his grandparents began taking in tourists, as did many farmers. Later Ralph sold one lot to a couple who been tourists. They added more property so that it bordered the road. They put a trailer up there and spent quite a lot of time there in the summer. 

It was the most spectacular view imaginable, Wesley remembers. They did have a lot of trouble drilling the well.  It was very deep and never had much of a flow, but it worked OK. Today the woods have filled in so much that it is very difficult to even see the property.

In 1880 or 1881, Doolittle constructed a road winding to the top, a steep road nearly a mile in length and he made it good enough for vehicles to drive over. On the summit, he had a “commodious” hotel constructed, a story-and-a-half high with a six-sided, two-story tower, with a promenade and an observatory with telescope. With the telescope the Hudson River, the state Capitol at Albany, the Berkshire Hills, and the Adirondacks could be seen.

There was also a small log cabin near the hotel and at the very top of the mountain a well was dug. Porter Wright told Oriana Atkinson about the well on the mountain top. The water had been located by a man named Charles Gould, a water dowser and stone mason. Using a peach tree crotch, he found the Pisgah water vein, dug the well and laid it up in stone.

No sooner was the road finished and the hotel open to the public than carriages and wagons began plodding up the steep incline to see what could be seen. Photographs of the lively parties on Pisgah show ladies and gentlemen of that time, dressed in their dressiest best, standing in front of two-horse carriages.

Ralph Hull said, “At one time there was a dance hall and a 3/8-mile racetrack on the top of Mt. Pisgah. My dad used to drive a three-seated wagon to take young folks up there at night when there were dances.” In 1881, the first year of the Doolittle enterprise, more than 300 people visited the new attractions. In 1882, the visitors’ register listed 1,500 names; in 1883, 600 carriages made their way to the top. 

Two ads in local newspapers tell us:

“The Log Cabin, being completed, the Fourth of July will be commemorated in a pleasant, profitable manner, illustrating the present and past centuries. Meals, etc. to correspond to each, price 39 cts. Address by Rev. Jas Pitman of Medusa. Good music. A race and other interesting features of the program. Toll and use of telescope half price. A good time guaranteed. Come and see. Signed, O. Doolitell” [likely Walter’s son]

“Mr. Doolitell’s people are again at the top of Mt. Pisgah to locate the points of interest, show the antiques of the log cabin, furnish soft drinks, confectionery, lunches, post cards. Parties desiring to see the sunset and sunrise will be furnished (upon application) with meals and lodging. Cabin and observatory are open daily and free to all. The sale of souvenirs, postcards, etc. is closed on Sundays. Come and see this view—its beauty and extensiveness are unparalleled. O. Doolitell”

The Doolittle establishment had been constructed with an eye to dignity and decorum. Porter Wright said his grandmother and grandfather ate dinner at the hotel one July 4th—it was the thing to do. Mr. Wright’s grandmother told him about the howling thunderstorm that had come up during their stay at the mountain top, and what a frightening experience it was to be there with thunder and lightning below as well as above and around.

Ralph Hull recalled, “When some men were digging shale to make a road in the shale bed along Mt. Pisgah Road, they cut the tops off some petrified palm trees. This shows that the country around here at one time was tropical.”

Ralph also remembered, “One time, the Lobdells who live at the foot of the mountain were awakened in the early evening. Someone had stopped and wanted to borrow a pick and shovel… They reported it to the police the next day. A girl had been missing from New York City and the police thought maybe they had killed her and buried her on Mt. Pisgah. They tried to pump the well dry on Mt. Pisgah. They pumped for three days and never did get it pumped dry. They grappled through the bottom of the well and never found anything. Later on, they found that someone had buried some stolen stocks and bonds in a shale bank off the Mt. Pisgah Road.”

Local residents had stories to tell about their visits. Ralph Hull remembered, “When I was young, we used to climb to the top of Mt. Pisgah several times every summer. There was a well on top of the mountain at least six feet across and 30-some feet deep. I have seen water within six feet of the top of that well. I always wondered where that water came from. When I used to go up in the summertime, there was part of an old log house still there. The well has been filled in but you can still make out the outlines of the old racetrack.”

Thelma Bell in her book “Reflections, A Lifetime of Memories,” wrote: “Uncle Tom gathered a few mountain climbers and proceeded to climb Mt. Pisgah. When they reached the clearing at the top, they waved a large white sheet. We were all gathered on our lawn awaiting the signal. We had our very own Uncle Tom standing in the doorway of the log cabin at the top of Mt. Pisgah. We were told that Miss Doolittle lived in that cabin at one time and taught in a local school.”

Oriana Atkinson had a slightly different story to tell about teaching at the stone school house: “Walter’s only son, Orris, was 15 years old when his parents moved to the top of Pisgah and he lived there until his death in 1919. After his death in 1929, his wife and sister collected his poems and his essays and dissertations and in 1931, under the supervision of a Mr. Archibald B. Moore, a booklet was published. He must have attended the little stone schoolhouse on Prink Hill, Durham District 6. When he was 30 years old, he taught in the stone schoolhouse for 20 weeks and one day.” 

In 1925, the hotel went up in flames. It was never rebuilt. The road is impassable today. Pisgah has gradually grown a thick stand of trees upon its top again.