Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Seeking out the "invisible homeless"

Published on 2/4/2007
THE POST-STAR

They started in the frigid hour before dawn last Monday morning, scanning playgrounds, parks, boathouses and cemeteries for signs of life. By the end of the day, Warren/Washington Housing Coalition volunteers had counted at least 235 homeless individuals in the two-county region, including six families and 11 children.

The one-day effort was the group's second official "point in time" census of the local homeless population, which will be used by the Department of Housing and Urban Development to calculate grant eligibility.

Several social services agencies also agreed to keep track of how many homeless clients they served on Monday, but had not yet reported their numbers to the coalition as of late Friday. The final total will be available later this week, but the numbers have already exceeded results of the group's first census in January 2005, which counted 198 homeless individuals.

"The numbers have been, for me, just startling. And they're increasing every year," said Cliff Green, who co-chairs the Housing Coalition with Lisa Coutu. "I suspect they will be higher again this year."

The Housing Coalition was founded in 2004 as a cooperative effort between about 20 public and private social service agencies that share a desire to develop more affordable housing options for the neediest members of the community. The coalition has applied jointly for HUD funding with the Saratoga Homeless Alliance, under the name Saratoga--North Country Continuum of Care.

Staci Franco, executive director of the Adirondack Vets House and a member of the Housing Coalition, was among the coordinators of the census. She set out by car around 5 a.m., watching for anyone who may have spent the night outdoors. By sunrise, she guessed, many might have moved on to warmer spots like fast-food restaurants.

Her first encounter was with a middle-aged couple she recognized as "chronically homeless," she said. They had sheltered themselves amid some playground equipment and appeared to be living out of their car, which Franco said isn't unusual.

Next, she found a middle-aged man sleeping in a cemetery -- he told her that he "preferred to live outdoors," Franco said.

She also spotted three youths in a park area in Glens Falls, carrying heavy bags. Franco decided not to approach them because they looked "edgy," she said, but counted them anyway. "You don't find too many 17-year-olds hanging out outside at the crack of dawn just for fun, especially in this weather," she said.

Meanwhile, other Housing Coalition volunteers were walking around the docks and shuttered seasonal buildings of Lake George, and other possible locations for the homeless to seek shelter.

Franco spent her morning working at the Vets House, then went out to continue the census on foot around 11 a.m. She dressed very casually, hoping to appear as non-threatening as possible to anyone she might meet.

A bitter wind whipped through the streets, and few people were visible on the sidewalks. Franco approached three young men standing outside a store near the intersection of Broad and South streets. They were willing to talk, but said they didn't know anyone who was homeless. Then Franco asked if they knew anyone who did what she calls "couch hopping," spending a few months at a time at various friends' homes without maintaining a permanent residence.

"Yeah, that's like all my friends," one of them said, the others nodding in agreement.

Later, Franco said she thinks couch hopping is a growing trend that masks the true extent of homelessness in the region. "I've come to realize that there are a lot of people who are working and can't afford a place of their own, they are just shacking up with different relatives and friends to make ends meet. But unfortunately, we can't count them," she said, explaining that they would not be considered homeless by HUD's definition.

Seeing no one else on the street, Franco changed tactics and began approaching bartenders, waitresses, hospital receptionists and others who interact daily with a wide swath of the public.

"I'm doing a survey for the federal government..." Franco typically began her spiel. Listeners often appeared suspicious at first, then softened as she explained her cause.

At a few places, the response was quick. The waitress at the Off-Track Betting cafe on South Street said she had about five homeless customers on any given day, and the director of The Open Door promised to do his own mini-census among the soup kitchen's clients. The intake staff at Glens Falls Hospital agreed to keep track of how many homeless patients came in that day.

But other respondents looked puzzled by the question, said they hadn't seen any homeless customers and that "it's not really a problem around here."

That's a common misconception, Coutu and Green said. People tend to think homelessness is limited to urban areas, but the problem goes beyond than the stereotype of a ragged figure sleeping on a New York City park bench.

The federal definition of homelessness does include unsheltered individuals, who are defined as "sleeping in places not meant for human habitation," but it also includes people sleeping in emergency or transitional housing, such as a shelter or a cheap motel. Anyone who is about to be evicted from their residence and has no place to go also qualifies. Of the 261 individuals identified during last year's point-in-time count, 75 percent were in those latter categories.

"We do have homeless people in our region -- they're just invisible," Coutu said.

According to a report released last month by the National Alliance to End Homelessness, there are approximately 744,000 homeless people in the United States. New York had the second-highest homeless population of all states, about 61,000 people.
--

Friday, February 02, 2007

Tapping into the tapas trend

Published on 1/31/2007
THE POST-STAR

The most essential element of the tapas dining experience isn't food, it's pronunciation -- there's a big difference between indulging in small portions of several dishes and ogling a shirtless waitress.

David Britton, executive chef of Springwater Bistro in Saratoga Springs, learned this the hard way when he changed his upscale restaurant's answering machine message to advertise every Monday as "tapas night."

"If you don't pronounce the 'pa' clearly, it sounds like topless," he said. "I remember an older woman of obvious sophistication calling, and her message was, 'Oh, no, that's not what I called for,' then...click. We don't leave it on the machine anymore."

He doesn't need to advertise, anyway. On Monday nights -- traditionally the slowest day in a restaurant's week -- his bistro is bustling, both the dining room and bar brimming with customers.

They're all there to eat tapas, which means sharing a lot of little dishes instead of ordering larger individual entrees. The term comes from a Spanish word meaning "cover," and the centuries-old tradition may have started as an attempt to keep flies out of wine and sherry by placing slices of bread, cheese or ham on top of the glass. These unintentional bar snacks caught on and became more elaborate with time.

These days, tapas can be almost anything. A bowl of mixed nuts or olives qualifies, as does something snazzier like a chunk of salmon in a balsamic glaze reduction. Any meal of sampling-sized portions could be called tapas, and the food doesn't even have to be Spanish -- the tapas menu at Springwater Bistro has Asian, Italian, French and American influences, for example.

Springwater Bistro started its Monday-night tapas tradition about five years ago, on a night when, because of a snowstorm, only a handful of customers were in the restaurant, Britton said.

"We said, instead of a long, drawn-out meal, why don't we cook for you the way we eat?" he said, referring to the way that chefs sample many dishes together before setting a menu. The customers loved it, and it allowed the chefs to use up all the ingredients left in the kitchen at the end of each week (the bistro is closed on Tuesdays).

"The nice thing about tapas is that people can be adventurous with less risk," Britton explained. "And it's become a phenomenon ... look around, it's wall-to-wall people."

Gaffney's Restaurant in Saratoga Springs introduced a Thursday-night tapas menu last year. The menu includes about 20 tapas items priced from three to six dollars, and most customers order three to four items each, said restaurant owner John Baker.

"We just wanted to do something different, keep things fresh," he said. "It's been very popular."

Deena Lavigne, a longtime waitress at Gaffney's, said she still gets asked "What's tapas?" by a lot of customers, but she said the trend is catching on.

"It's about being able to sit and chat and not devour your food all at once," she said.

The tapas experience is about socializing as much as eating, Britton said. "It creates camaraderie, all the sharing and passing," he said.

IF YOU GO
Springwater Bistro, 139 Union Ave. in Saratoga Springs, devotes every Monday night to tapas. Chef David Britton's innovative menu, which changes weekly, adds a gourmet touch to familiar foods -- ever tried pizza with barbecue calamari, sesame, and Gruyere cheese? How about goat cheese fritters with lemon fondue? Want some curry aioli with those onion rings? Menu online at www.springwaterbistro.com or call 584-6440.

Gaffney's Restaurant, 16 Caroline St. in Saratoga Springs, includes a tapas menu with its regular dinner menu on Thursday nights. Go to www.gaffneysrestaurant.com or call 587-7359.

The Wine Bar, at 417 Broadway in Saratoga Springs, offers a few light, tapas-style dishes like seared scallops, "pizzetta," and exotic cheese plates. The prices aren't as miniscule as the portions, but the classy atmosphere and generous glasses of good wine make up for it. Menu online at www.thewinebarofsaratoga.com or call 584-8777.

Vin Santo Tapas & Wine Bar, just off Northway Exit 6 in the Latham Farms shopping center, this restaurant opened to rave reviews last summer. According to the online menu, chef Chris Sisinni (formerly of Justin's restaurant on Lark Street) can whip up anything from a simmered octopus salad to a mound of house-cut french fries. Check it out at www.vinsantowinebar.com or call 786-TAPA.

Noche Lounge, 895 Broadway in north Albany's warehouse district, is another tapas bar worth the drive. The swanky, low-lit ambience seems just right for sipping a glass of wine and nibbling on menu items like a Manchego and goat cheese quesadilla. An odd but tasty touch: Strips of bacon served in a wine glass are complimentary. More info at www.nochealbany.com or 434-4540.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Remembering a jazz legend

Published on 1/21/2007

THE POST-STAR


Jazz performer Richard Wetmore grew up during the Great Depression, but lived a life of great joy. Friends and family remember him as a man rich with humor and compassion, who saw himself as an instrument to entertain and encourage others. When he died on Jan. 4, a few days short of his 80th birthday, the personal legacy he left was as impressive as his place in jazz history.

"Dick was such a youthful spirit, and we just had a heck of a lot of fun, which is really what music is all about -- or can be, if given a chance," said Tom Tracy, a Cape Cod-based musician who was Wetmore's performing partner during much of the 1980s and '90s.

"I have seen him get up and play and other musicians would just quit playing, their jaws hanging open," remembered Mary Lu Wetmore, who is married to the late violinist's nephew, French.

Wetmore was born and raised in Glens Falls, the youngest child of Louis, an architect, and Laura (Bemis), the daughter of a prominent local doctor. His mother, an amateur musician, had high hopes that one of her children would become a professional classical performer, and Wetmore seemed to be on his way for awhile. He started playing music at 6 -- on a toy violin from the local Woolworth's -- and studied with regionally renowned violinist Virginia DeBlasiis throughout his childhood.

He was drafted into the Army in 1945, at age 17, marking the end of his time in Glens Falls and the beginning of his jazz career. Since the Army band had no violins, he taught himself to play the cornet (a type of horn), and got a part in the Hattiesburg, Miss.-based 391 ASF Band.

"That's really where he learned to improvise; learned jazz and Dixieland and bebop," said his great-nephew, Jameson Wetmore, who has studied his uncle's career and collected all his recordings. "From there, it just took off."

His mother wasn't thrilled, but the public was, according to family members. The violin was an unusual vehicle for jazz at the time, and Wetmore's knack for improvisation and unique style of playing -- he sometimes plucked the strings like a guitar -- quickly earned him a measure of fame.

After his year of service, Wetmore started playing in the Boston area, where his parents had moved during his absence. He played back-up gigs for the likes of Peggy Lee, Mel Torme and Rosemary Clooney, formed his own quartet, and eventually enrolled at the New England Conservatory of Music. At the conservatory, he met composer Bob Zieff, who wrote the music for Wetmore's self-titled album released in 1955.

Wetmore's career continued to blossom over the next few years. He became a frequent guest on radio and television programs, including The Tonight Show. He was featured on several more recordings as part of a string jazz quartet led by Vinnie Burke, and played gigs all over New York City with jazz legends like Billie Holliday, Sarah Vaughn, Charlie Parker and Dizzy Gillespie.

But as Wetmore's professional successes piled up, so did his personal problems. He drank so much that he did not even remember some of the gigs he played, and later told his family that "the only reason he was alive was because he was scared of needles" at a time when heroin use was common among jazz musicians, his great-nephew said.

"He was lucky in a number of ways, but the alcohol certainly did stunt his career. He couldn't quite jump up to the next big level, although he did put out some very great albums," Jameson said.

Wetmore's life changed when a friend convinced him to join an Alcoholics Anonymous support group. He stopped drinking in 1972 and stayed sober for the rest of his life, using his experience to mentor others through addiction problems.

Joyce Getty of Salem, Wetmore's niece, said her uncle seemed to have "found himself" in his later years.

"He told me that he was an instrument -- that he had a purpose, and that was to make music, guided by a higher power," she said.

He moved to Cape Cod and stayed away from the music scene for several years because it was so connected to the bar scene. One summer night in 1978, he went to a Brewster bar called The Woodshed to hear the popular local jazz duo of Tom Tracy and Pete Buscemi.

Tracy was skeptical when Wetmore, who was 20 years his senior, approached the duo after the show and suggested playing together. But when they gave him a chance, both men were "blown away" by Wetmore's skill and creativity.

"He was the real deal," Tracy said. "My only relationship with the violin before that was hearing it played classically, so that was a real eye-opener." The next night, Wetmore joined the duo at the Wood Shed, and "he just knocked the socks off the crowd," Tracy said.

By 1980, Tracy and Wetmore had forged a musical partnership called "Where's Harry," playing off their first names -- Tom and Dick. They played all over the Cape for most of the next 14 years.

Wetmore moved to Florida in 1996, but their friendship remained strong, Tracy said. "One of the things he used to say was, 'Just keep showing up.' That was his motto in the world -- just be there, 100 percent," Tracy remembered. "He always did that as a player, and as a human being, and brought a lot of love to people. I'm going to miss him a great deal."

In the early 1990s, Wetmore joined his nephew French's family in Indiana for Thanksgiving. Marjorie Bach, French's mother-in-law, impulsively switched the placecards at the table so she could sit next to Wetmore, "since we were the only two single people there," she said. They hit it off, sparking a long-distance romance, and married a few years later.

"I just thought Dick was a pretty neat guy to spend the rest of my life with," Marjorie said. "I feel very privileged, especially now that so many people are showing how much they adored this man. I had one over them -- I adored him, and I had him."

Some of her favorite moments were simple day-to-day routines, like drinking coffee together in bed each morning. In recent years, as Dick's emphysema sapped his strength, that ritual could last several hours before he felt able to get up, she said. They passed the time with jokes and songs, competing to see who could remember the most words to old tunes.

"I tried my darndest not to let him get sad," Marjorie said. "We found that we could entertain ourselves, and survive the trauma that we were going through."

The couple moved from Florida to Indiana last May to be closer to family members.

"It was going to be an adventure," Marjorie said. "Of course, we didn't know it would be such a short one."

The hardest part of everything, she said, was the day she realized her husband would never again play the violin.

"He could make that violin talk. I don't really think there's anyone else that has been that versatile and marvelous," she said.

And if Wetmore's mother had lived to see it, she might have been proud that her son did eventually perform with a professional orchestra. In 1996, the Cape Cod Symphony Orchestra featured Wetmore as a jazz violin soloist, improvising on the tunes of George Gershwin and Jerome Kern.

--

Monday, January 08, 2007

The spirit of Shabat

Published on 1/7/2007 in THE POST-STAR

GLENS FALLS -- Peter Shabat doesn't look like a rich and powerful businessman. He looks more like the Maytag repairman, with a Jewish twist -- blue work pants and sneakers, a Carhartt vest embroidered with the words "Northway Service," and a faded black yarmulke that nearly blends into his dark hair.

His office is in a former feed store on South Street, near several bars and a tattoo parlor. Grimy fingerprints cover the cash register and photocopier, and a trickle of chicken feed occasionally lands on his desk from the ceiling.

He doesn't need to be there. He has enough money to retire. But while the Maytag man is known for having nothing to do, Shabat works at least 60 hours a week. He spends his days darting among his office, his pickup truck, and businesses around the region, checking up on malfunctioning bagel ovens and malfeasant tenants.

In his office, he is nearly always on the phone, though most of his conversations go like this: "Seeyouattwothankyoubye."

The only day he takes off is Saturday, the Jewish Sabbath -- "Shabbat" in Hebrew.

This is what Shabat, 55, calls "slowing down" after open-heart surgery several years ago.

He grew up in Israel, as his accent still reveals after 35 years here. He had little money when he arrived, but a wealth of motivation. He started an appliance repair business, which eventually grew to include restaurant equipment sales and service from three locations in Albany, Schenectady and Glens Falls.

By the 1990s, Shabat owned three hotels in Lake George and what he estimates was 80 percent of South Street's commercial real estate. He has sold many of his properties and downsized his repair business in recent years, but still owns four South Street buildings and handles most repair calls personally.

"When you're poor, you work hard and save...Now that I have the money, I can't stop working," he said. "What am I going to do, sit home? I have to use my hands; my mind."

His most notorious investment is the Madden Hotel, a boarding house with a reputation that matches its battered exterior. The tenants are mostly people with troubled histories, struggling with things like mental illness, substance abuse, debt and disability. As a result, Shabat admits, the Madden has a troubled history of its own.

"There's a lot of people coming in there who are just coming out of jail, having nothing...some have problems with drugs. I can't say there is no drugs there now, but it is a lot better than what it used to be," Shabat said.

Long-term tenants say they do their best to improve conditions by reporting those who damage the property or commit crimes. Those who end up on Shabat's list of "troublemakers" are banned.

"A place like that, it's what you make it," said Brian Black, who has lived at the Madden since 2001. "A lot of transients come through and say, 'It looks like he (Shabat) doesn't care about it, why should we?' But there are those of us who do...we used to have fights in there constantly, and drugs in and out of the place, but we've pretty much cleared that out now."

Black stepped into the lobby of the Madden a few minutes later, taking a reporter on a brief tour.

"Ah, shoot. Someone stole that lightbulb again," he said, glancing up.

Shabat said he keeps the building up to code, but it can be a challenge. When he first bought the Madden about 20 years ago, he renovated the place "from the ground up," he said.

"We made it nicer to begin with, but it didn't do any good. They break it, we fix it. They break it, we fix it. It gets expensive," he said. "Some people keep their rooms nice, but others are like animals, punching holes in the sheetrock and breaking doors."

The property is for sale, but Shabat said he won't sell it unless the buyer agrees to provide housing for the current Madden tenants. He hopes to work out a deal with the city.

"I could close that hotel, and it's never going to affect me financially, believe me. But there's a lot of people who, either mentally or physically, have no place to go," he said. "What would happen to them?"

Black, who is disabled by vision loss, said he, for one, doesn't know what he would do.

"If the Madden closed, I haven't a clue where I'd go. It would be a serious inconvenience, because right now I've got everything a stone's throw away," he said.

Shabat said he's "not desperate to sell," although there are days when the property is more trouble than its worth. Evicted tenants have retaliated with everything from swastikas to baseball bats, and the tires of his truck have been slashed several times.

"I don't think anybody else is going to take as much abuse as me," he said with a wry smile. "But you can't throw out the whole bunch because of a few bad apples. You can't give up."

He also insists that any potential buyer agree to keep renting space to the adjacent soup kitchen, called The Open Door.

Last year, a portion of the Madden's brick facade crumbled and fell through the roof of The Open Door, nearly landing on Rev. Bruce Hersey, the Open Door's director. But the falling wall didn't damage Hersey's opinion of Shabat.

"I've watched him over the years, and quietly, he has been very generous and kind," Hersey said, explaining that Shabat was the only South Street landlord to welcome the soup kitchen when Hersey started it from the back of a van about 15 years ago.

"He has come by numerous times to fix equipment for free," Hersey said. "And on Christmas day, he and his Jewish friends took care of feeding people so we could have a day off."

Shabat is an Orthodox Jew, the youngest of nine children born to North African immigrants in the Israeli village of Beit Shemesh, near Jerusalem. "I started working when I was 9 years old in a little market, and picked vegetables in the summer," he said. "I paid for my own bar mitzvah. My parents were very poor."

Shabat joined the Israeli Air Force at 15, and was still a teenager when he fought in the Six-Day War of 1967. When the Air Force sent him to Pensacola, Fla. for a training exercise a few years later, he fell in love with a girl named Lynne who vacationing there from Glens Falls with her family.

"I thought when I came here, it was only going to be for a year or so, but things change," he said.

He moved to Glens Falls, married Lynne and had two sons, but they divorced a few years later. He remarried and had a daughter, then lost his second wife to cancer. His children are grown now, have jobs in law and health care, and live in other states.

"I don't really want to talk about all of that," Shabat said, a weary look in his eyes.

Light returns to his eyes at the mention of another woman -- Ornit Reindorp, his longtime girlfriend. She also grew up in Israel, and served a year in the Army there before moving to her mother's hometown of Glens Falls about 15 years ago.

Shabat heard of her arrival from other members of the local Jewish community, and welcomed her to the neighborhood with what Reindorp considered a precious gift.

"He came over with an Israeli newspaper!" she remembered, her hazel eyes glowing.

When Reindorp stopped by the soup kitchen during a recent weekday lunch, many of the regulars greeted her affectionately. She said many of them have asked Shabat for help in the past, and they usually receive it, under certain conditions.

"If you come up to him and ask him for five bucks, he'll give it to you...but you have to show that you are willing to work for it. I mean, when he came to Glens Falls, he had holes in his shoes, he was so poor. But he was willing to work," she said.

Elvis Whorf, 25, said Shabat has "always been a motivator" for him to get his life on the right track.

"I can remember many times when I've been without a place to stay, and Peter's said, 'Hey, I've got a room.' He worked with me on rent when I couldn't pay it all at once," said Whorf. "I think he's got a heart of gold."

Reindorp looked thoughtful. "He has a unique personality," she said. "I never met a person with so much patience."

That patience does have its limits, however, as Shabat noted.

"I really don't have any conflicts with people, unless they don't pay their rent or bills," he said. "Then, I take them to court."

---

Tuesday, January 02, 2007

What local officials want from Spitzer

Published on 1/1/2007 in THE POST-STAR (Local News)

Santa's not the only one who's been swamped with wish lists lately.

In the weeks between Gov. Eliot Spitzer's election and his inauguration, legislators and local political leaders have written, called and met with his transition team to express their various wishes for the incoming administration's priorities -- and they're eager to unwrap his first speech for hints of good things to come.

"You always get a flavor in the State of the State for what the budget is going to be like, so I'm hoping I hear about government reform, about a balance between environmental and economic issues, and a commitment to many things that include the North Country's economy," said state Assemblywoman Teresa Sayward, R-Willsboro. "And certainly, property tax relief is my top priority."

Like the fabled guy in the red suit, Spitzer has so far managed to gain the public's affection without revealing many details. He campaigned on vague, widely appealing principles like government reform and accountablity, and has promised "change on day one."

While no one knows exactly what form that change will take, one things seems clear -- no one is eager to land on the "naughty" list of such a powerful and popular figure. Local Republican legislators all spoke positively about Spitzer and said they wish him well, despite the differences in their political parties.

"Certainly, whenever there's change, there's hope. So I look forward to this coming year. I'm sure it will be interesting, to say the least," Sayward said.

Sayward said she has written two letters to Spitzer so far, each with a budgetary suggestion. She would like the new budget to include more municipal aid for revenue-starved communities, as well as funds to help counties cope with a recent 26 percent hike in fees charged by the Office of Child and Family Services.

State Sen. Elizabeth Little, R-Queensbury, said she is "encouraged and optimistic" about the new administration, and hopes Spitzer will use bipartisanship to follow through on his campaign promises.

"I've already written to the governor-elect and talked to him about reducing property taxes," Little said. "I said I would like to be involved, and I'm happy to see that's a priority of his as well."

State Assemblyman Roy McDonald, R-Saratoga, wants the Spitzer administration to pay attention to rural upstate communities, which he believes are often the victim of "geographic discrimination" by Albany's power brokers.

"I think it was unintentional, but New York state government has become urbanized, and programs and services are geared to urban areas," McDonald said. "I think it's a concern of his, and I look forward to working with him to turn that around."

Even brighter visions dance in the heads of leaders from Spitzer's own party.

"We're hoping to see that he has some grand plans for fixing the economy, especially upstate ... for creating jobs, and actually accomplishing some of things Pataki's been talking about for the last 12 years," said Larry Bulman, chairman of the Saratoga County Democratic Committee. "He (Spitzer) wants to take us to the next level. ... I'm very excited about it."

Bulman said he's already had two meetings with members of Spitzer's transition team, and plans to continue pressing for change in areas like health care, economic development, property tax relief and renewable energy.

Glens Falls Mayor Roy Akins, whom Spitzer endorsed in person during the 2006 mayoral campaign, said he doesn't have any specific requests for the governor at this point, but "wherever the state can help the city, I'll certainly reach out and ask for it."

Queensbury Town Supervisor Dan Stec said if he wrote a wish list to the Spitzer administration, his top request would be to stop "unfunded mandates" from the state to counties and municipalities, and to reform the Medicaid system. He said he also hopes the state will pass laws requiring the civil confinement of sex offenders and restricting where child sex offenders may live.

"If they want to start making some changes, these are just a few of the most achievable ones," he said. "But I'm not going to hold my breath. I don't have a lot of faith in Albany."
---

Saturday, December 23, 2006

A war wound and a wedding

Published on 12/23/2006 in THE POST-STAR

GLENS FALLS -- Army Spc. Taylor Stewart was on his way out of Baghdad when he got one final, unwelcome souvenir -- a bullet in his leg.

Stewart, who grew up in Glens Falls and is home on leave, said he didn't even realize he had been shot at first. After all, his unit -- the 72nd Signal Battalion, based in Mannheim, Germany -- specializes in communications, not combat. They had come under fire several times during their one-year deployment but were in no apparent danger at that moment. They were simply relaxing inside a tent surrounded by a wall of sandbags at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad, waiting for a next-day flight out of Iraq.

"I figured it was probably the safest place I could be," Stewart recalled. "Next thing I know ... I felt something hot across my leg."

He initially thought a friend had played a prank on him with a slingshot. "I got up to yell at my buddy, and I hear, 'Stewart, sit down! You're bleeding.' "

Fortunately, the bullet missed the leg bone as it went through his flesh and came to a stop in the cot's metal frame. Stewart went to the hospital and "let them clean me up," then signed himself out so he could leave with his company the next day.

He called his parents, Anni Stewart of Glens Falls and William Stewart of Hudson Falls, who were alarmed to hear of his wound but relieved that it wasn't worse. Although his mother initially told a Post-Star editor that her son thought the shot came from a rooftop sniper, Taylor now says that was just a miscommunication.

"Nah, it was just some guy with an AK-47 who was firing into the base," he said. "The Apaches (Army attack helicopters) took care of him pretty quick."

About a month later, 21-year-old Stewart is healed and home for the holidays. On the surface, he seems to blend in with his peers. He wears jeans, a hooded sweat shirt and a ball cap and slips slang like "dude" and "whatever, clever" into conversation.

But his year in Iraq has marked him in other ways. He pulls the bullet from his jeans pocket, where it's carried close to the 3-inch-long scar it created. Traces of his blood are still visible in the grooves of the 7.62-mm slug.

Another newly acquired piece of metal, with a much happier origin, rests around his ring finger. Stewart got married on Dec. 7, just five days after coming home and introducing his girlfriend -- Laura Asher, a National Guard medic from Indiana -- to his parents.

The couple met in Iraq when Stewart went to the clinic for treatment of a minor back injury earlier this year, and their relationship quickly deepened. They dated for about six months before the wedding.


"Some people say that's short, but it's different over there," he said. "You don't have your Abercrombie and Fitch clothes, gel in your hair and a couple drinks to loosen you up. All you have is yourself, so you really get to know people quick ... and we just really connected."

His perspective on relationships isn't the only thing altered by his service in Iraq. He's learned to be grateful for simple things, like safety.

"People take so much for granted here," he said. "Like walking down the street, not having a care in the world besides the essay they have to do for school tomorrow."

Stewart still has the deep sense of patriotism that motivated him to join the Army, but he said he's also gained "mad respect" for Iraqi culture after his time there.

"When I went over there, I figured I'd see some camels walking by and some people in turbans, but they're actually really modernized," he said. "They are some of the hardest-working people I've ever met, and they do it all with a smile on their face. ... No matter what we may think of them, they have really strong values. They're very family oriented."

Stewart said that even though his four-year term of service will be complete by this time next year, he could end up back in action due to the Army's "stop loss" policy. That means that if the 72nd is re-deployed within 90 days of the time Stewart's enlistment is due to end -- something he said leaders have already hinted is likely -- he would be required to serve an additional year.

Beyond that, Stewart said he's not sure what he would like to do next. "I've been contemplating re-enlistment," he said. "But I come home every time, and my nieces and nephews have grown a foot. I don't know ... I'm just enjoying having very little responsibility right now."

He doesn't mind recounting his story for friends and family when they ask -- and they have, dozens of times -- but winces when people assign him too much praise.

"I'm not a hero; the heroes are the guys who didn't come home," he said.

His childhood friend, Kyle Nelson, has a different opinion. "I think they're all heroes over there,"

Nelson said. "He should be proud of what he did."
---

Monday, December 18, 2006

This Bud's for no one

Published on 12/17/2006 in THE POST-STAR (Local news)

QUEENSBURY -- Sheriff's officers are used to seeing accidents where alcohol is involved, but in the case of a tractor-trailer that overturned on Route 149 near Bay Road early Saturday morning, alcohol was a victim rather than a suspect.

An International tractor-trailer carrying a full load of bottled Budweiser beer slid off the road and overturned around 6 a.m., spilling its cargo all over the road and into the surrounding woods, according to the Warren County Sheriff's Office.

The truck was operated by 61-year-old Thomas J. Waltos of North Syracuse, who was extricated from the truck cab by Bay Ridge Volunteer Fire Company and Bay Ridge EMS. Waltos was treated at the scene but refused further medical attention, officers said.

The accident was apparently caused by black ice and a possible load shift as the truck slid around a curve, heading eastbound down a hill toward Bay Road.

"There was a lot of alcohol involved, but was the operator drinking? I'd have to say no, that's been ruled out," said Warren County Sheriff Sgt. Pasquale Girard.

The tractor-trailer, a 2005 model owned by Gypsum Express Ltd., was en route from Baldwinsville, near Syracuse, to South Burlington, Vt., for a delivery. Its cargo of beer was "a total loss," according to the Sheriff's Office.

No assistance was needed from the Department of Environmental Conservation's spills response team, because the spill did not affect any waterways or residences, Girard said. A crew from Thomson's Garage in Lake George was called to the scene for towing and waste removal, a process that took at least eight hours and required closing Route 149 between Oxbow Hill Road and Walkup Cutoff. Sheriff's officers diverted traffic along Moon Kill Road. The accident was investigated by Warren County Sheriff's Officer Adam Spinelli.

By 10:30 a.m., the air was still thick with the yeasty smell of a brewery as a reporter reached the scene. The road's shoulder was a slick black paste of beer and dirt beneath a waist-high pile of crushed cardboard boxes and broken bottles. The work would take several more hours, but the cleanup crew was in a cheerful mood.

"I can't complain! It's a beautiful day, and it's not snowing," Fred Thomson said, after removing the trailer's remaining metal siding with a blowtorch.

Harry Saum stopped digging his front-end loader into the pile of bottles long enough to answer a question about his job title.

"What's it look like? I'm a beer cleaner-upper," he replied with a grin.

Gypsum Express or its insurance carrier will be billed for the cleanup, Girard said.

--

Friday, December 15, 2006

Glens Falls one of the worst places to live in U.S.?

Published on 12/14/2006 in THE POST-STAR's Go

Dave Gilmartin, 30, works as an advertising copywriter in Manhattan and makes fun of other cities in his spare time. His first book, "The Absolutely Worst Places to Live in America," was published by St. Martin's Press in October 2006.

The book is based on responses he received from using Craigslist and other Web forums to ask people about the worst place they had ever lived or visited. There are two New York cities included among the top 50 "worst places" -- Syracuse and Glens Falls.

At press time, the book's sales rank on Amazon.com was 36,020.

Q: So, what's your beef with Glens Falls? How did it make it into the top 50 worst places?

A: I guess the main theme I went with is just how it is all about neighboring towns. You know, I'm from New Jersey and we do that all the time, we pretend we're cool because New York City is right next door. With Glens Falls, it's all about Lake George and Saratoga. Like if the guy next door has a nice lawn, but I don't -- well, I'm close to the nice lawn! I don't want the speed of escape to be the best thing about where I'm living.

The other theme I heard from a lot of people is that the teenagers are all bored and can't wait to escape. But Glens Falls is pretty tame compared to some of the others, actually. It's certainly no Detroit!

Q: Ever been to Glens Falls?

A: Well, I've been through it. I just kind of drove around. I basically had what I was going to write at that point. I mean, the book is largely testimonials and quotes...I'm a humor writer, and I don't have any journalistic sensibilities! (laughs) Syracuse is the one (of two New York cities included in the book) I know much better, personally. Glens Falls is one I sort of uncovered. It just kept popping up. And I was doing so many large cities that I wanted a small, boring town, too.

Q: What are some of the worst things people said about Glens Falls?

A: That it's a big, boring ghetto..."home to the high school basketball hall of fame, as well as lost dreams and failed aspirations." That's a quote from a local.

Q: How did you write the book?

A: I did polling online, survey-taking...went to every Craigslist in the country and asked people, "What's the worst place you've ever been?" Then, once I had votes, I would start corresponding with people. It was cool, I actually got to meet a lot of interesting people who really hated their towns. People were really willing to unload.

It took about a year and a half. I did some traveling, too. There wasn't really any great method to it. I tried not to pick all 50 from Jersey, which was a challenge. Then there's some, like Baltimore, that's a shoo-in regardless of any research...

Q: Where did you get the idea?

A: I work in advertising and do some magazine junk, and I was talking to an editor one day, trying to think of something satirical to write. It was around the time the "Best Places to Live" articles come out every year, so I just thought of the opposite. It was totally random. I just like to make fun of stuff, I don't know what that says about me! (laughs)

I'm from Jersey, so I think that's where my expertise came from. My whole life, I've been made fun of for being from Jersey, so it's fun to spread it around a little bit. Not that we aren't bad, but other places are too... The whole point is just to be funny. I'm just trying to be funny, and I think about half the people get it, and half are very angry.

Q: Oh, yeah? So you've gotten complaints from some of the places you wrote about?

A: Big cities don't care. Like, I haven't heard from Detroit, they've got bigger fish to fry. But Mitchell, South Dakota -- they covered my book like it was the presidential debate. I debated the mayor on the radio for like 45 minutes!

Q: So, I noticed from a Google search that Dave Gilmartin is apparently a pseudonym. Why not use your real name?

A: Yeah, I wish I hadn't let that slip...it's a long, boring story, but the easy answer is that I didn't want anyone from Detroit to find me and kill me. They've killed people for less than this!

Q: Any plans for a second book?

A: I feel like I need to write something really positive next, to realign my karma. A book about puppies or something...although a book about the worst colleges would be really funny.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Local woman opens a window of aid to Africa

Published on 12/3/2006 in THE POST-STAR

What started as a Saratoga County couple's vacation splurge -- a bike race in South Africa, and a visit to Victoria Falls -- became a humanitarian surge that is powering the transformation of an entire African village.

World's Window, a new nonprofit organization based in Ballston Lake, is working to replace poverty with self-sustainability and empowerment, starting with the small, rural village of Chikandakubi in western Zimbabwe.

Seven professionals from the Capital District just returned from a three-week voluntary mission to Chikandakubi through World's Window. They brought 26 suitcases full of supplies, helped the villagers construct a workshop, and offered their expertise in the areas of medicine, animal breeding, engineering and education.

"We're a small number of people who feel strongly about making a difference. You have to leave your ego and agenda at the door, and say, 'What can I do to help?' " said Denise Stasik, a health care worker from Ballston Spa who worked in the medical clinic and women's empowerment projects.

When the group arrived, at least 50 women and children met them beside the road, extending their hands and chanting in welcome.

"It was the warmest, most emotional greeting I have ever had in my entire life," said Cindy Schmehl, the founder and president of World's Window. "They are so appreciative of the help we are trying to give them to help them earn a living for themselves."

Her husband, Tim, was among the volunteers. He used his skills as an engineer to install solar electricity panels and improve wells.

"It was really a lot of work, but the rewards were so much better than going and taking a cruise or something," he said. "It was very useful to a large number of people. It helped change their lives."

'I can't just leave them'

Cindy and Tim Schmehl didn't expect to change anyone's life when they first traveled to Africa together in 2003. Friends had invited Tim to join a bike race in South Africa, and Cindy was thrilled at the rare chance to travel internationally.

On a side trip to the neighboring country of Zimbabwe to see one of the Seven Wonders of the World, Victoria Falls, the couple started chatting with a local man after repeatedly running into him. His name was Godfrey Dube.

Cindy asked Dube if he knew how they could visit one of the surrounding villages. "He responded in the style we've heard a lot since then: 'Sure, that can be done,' " Tim remembered. After a bumpy ride in Dube's battered car, the Schmehls got their first glimpse of Chikandakubi, home to about 1,500 members of the minority Ndbelle tribe.

The Schmehls were struck by both the extreme poverty they saw, and the friendly openness of the villagers. "I realized how much I have as an American -- how lucky I am," Cindy said.

Donkey carts, or bare feet, were the only forms of transportation; malaria was rampant, and food was scarce. Gardens were often trampled by elephants. The village school had broken windows, no desks and a chalkboard too chipped to write on. Teachers and students sat together on a pockmarked cement floor, lacking simple tools like pencils, paper or books.

Cindy's eyes filled with tears as they got on the plane to go home. "She said, 'I can't just leave them,' " Tim remembered.

He had no idea how much she meant that.

She started out collecting pens and pencils to send to the school, but decided that wasn't enough. By 2004, she had returned to Chikandakubi, bringing supplies and volunteers from the Rotary Club. The need was much larger than one short-term project could meet, however.

Thinking big

In June 2005, Cindy registered World's Window Inc. as a nonprofit dedicated to "providing humanitarian aid in the form of education, services, supplies and materials to areas of the world in desperate need."

Dube, the man who introduced the Schmehls to Chikandakubi, is now the project manager for World's Window -- and the group has a lot of projects there. So far, World's Window has built a medical clinic, library, orphanage and men's woodworking shop in Chikandakubi. They have also launched an array of other projects that include planting drought-resistant trees with edible leaves; preventing and researching malaria; empowering women; training teachers; providing transportation; breeding farm animals; and distributing basic essentials like toiletries and clothing.

If that seems like a lot to juggle for a fledgling organization that's still based in the Schmehls' home, consider Cindy's background. She ran her own event-planning business for five years, and managed the Latham Circle Mall before that. She's always enjoyed taking on projects that would daunt other people, her husband said.

"She's always done things big," he said. "The holidays are always pretty big productions in our home."

True to form, Cindy brought her own version of a big holiday production to Chikandakubi on the November trip. She brought along costumes -- the village school headmaster dressed as Santa Claus while she played Mrs. Claus -- and hundreds of "goody bags" for the children, each one containing a toy and some basic necessities.

"We were prepared for 350 children, and when we arrived, there were 500, so we had to scramble to come up with extra bags, but we did it," Cindy said.

So much need

Cindy explained that the village population -- particularly in terms of school-age children -- is growing rapidly in recent months for a troubling reason. Unemployment is over 80 percent in Zimbabwe, and the few jobs that exist are mostly in cities, which is why several thousand families have moved away from Chikandakubi in the past decade or so.

But as in many African countries, the HIV infection rate is also extraordinarily high, affecting about 20 percent of Zimbabwe's population.

"Many of those people who left to seek employment elsewhere have now developed AIDS and are returning to their villages to find family. Our medical clinic is going to be hit hard," Cindy predicted. "The other thing is, many of them are bringing back children who will be left on their own. Right now, it's not unusual for a 9- or 10-year-old to be head of household."

Chikandakubi's small primary school already has 89 orphans, she said. Drought and political upheaval have crippled the country once known as "the breadbasket of Africa" so much that when World's Window volunteers interviewed 160 orphans from the Chikandakubi schools about what they needed to stay in school, most said, "Food."

After seeing such great need, going to an American grocery store is "an emotional experience," Cindy said.

Denise Stasik said she was especially struck by the response of one 16-year-old girl, whose diet consisted of one cup of porridge every other day.

"She said, 'I only need food. With food, I can think. And if I can think, I can do anything.' "

Working together

By speaking and showing pictures of Chikandakubi in churches, schools and civic groups whenever she can, Cindy has already attracted a broad base of support for World's Window. The eight-member board of directors includes professionals from the health care community, educators and business owners. Several school districts in the Capital District region have signed up to participate in a cross-cultural exchange with the Chikandakubi schools, and a program is in the works that could add Coxsackie Correctional Facility inmates to World's Window's base of volunteers. The New York State Department of Health, through the Wadsworth Center at SUNY Albany, is helping with the malaria research project.

"The projects just keep multiplying, because the need is so great," said Cindy.

World's Window will always be committed to Chikandakubi, she said, but eventually she hopes the organization will be large enough to make a difference in other communities throughout the world.

"Our vision is to make the entire village self-sustaining as a whole," she said. "And as we grow, I hope to reach out to other places. It could be in another African country, or it could even be in an impoverished part of the U.S."

Although her husband said he's "a little bit in awe of what she's been able to accomplish," Cindy shrugs off the praise. "I'm just an ordinary woman. I love children, and I love people," she said. "I'm not an expert in anything, but I work very, very hard and surround myself with people who do have the expertise to help all the projects along."

Besides, she said, none of this has happened by coincidence.

"I just believe that I'm being led down a certain path," she said. "And I don't think God would ever give me something I couldn't handle."

---

WHAT YOU CAN DO Volunteers are invited to join a World's Window trip to Chikandakubi at their own cost. The next trip, scheduled for February 2007, is currently full, but space is available on the November 2007 trip. The organization also needs volunteers to help with general office tasks and grant applications, and is seeking members for a medical advisory committee, women's empowerment committee, and golf tournament committee. Donations of money and office supplies are also needed. To learn more, visit http://www.worlds-window.org/, e-mail cindy@worlds-window.org or call 877-0382.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Local gamer's Wii web site takes off

ublished on 11/25/2006 in THE POST-STAR

GLENS FALLS -- This spring, when Nintendo changed the name of its soon-to-be-released video gaming system from the "Revolution" to the "Wii," high school senior Ian Mikutel had a problem.

It was about two weeks before the staff of his year-old Web site and podcast about the Nintendo system planned to attend the Electronic Entertainment Expo in Los Angeles, and they had already ordered business cards and T-shirts featuring their site's name: Revolution Report.

The 10-person staff, scattered across the country, brainstormed via conference call until 4 a.m. and finally came up with a new name for their site: The Wiire.

"We've always been a very news-focused site, so it's like a play on 'news wire,'" Mikutel explained. Nintendo's explanation for the odd-sounding name, he said, was simple. "It's like the word 'we,' and the two 'i's represent two people playing together," he said. "So basically, it's all about inclusion."

Mikutel, now a freshman at Rochester Institute of Technology, said the redesigned site's traffic is growing by about 10,000 unique visits a month, pushing it toward 100,000 visits this month. Apple recently featured The Wiire Podcast on the home page of the iTunes music store. "At this rate, we could get two million hits a year," he said. "It's crazy to think about."

Besides a new name and color scheme -- coincidentally, the same combination of white and sky blue that Nintendo picked for the Wii packaging -- the biggest change to Mikutel's site is the addition of game reviews.

"Video game reviews are notoriously something that most people don't want to read, they just want to skip to the rating," he said. "So we decided to split our reviews up into three stages, to cater to all types of people."

Readers who want only a general synopsis of a game can check out stage one, "impressions," which explains in less than a page how the game is played and what is looks, feels and sounds like. More detailed information is available in the second stage, "analysis," written after the reviewer has taken a day off and then tried the game again. After the final stage -- "evaluation," written for what Mikutel calls "hard-core gaming enthusiasts" -- each game is rated on a 100-point scale.

Only a few complete reviews are on the site right now, he said, because Nintendo prereleased the Wii to the media just one week before it hit the consumer market on Nov. 19. That wasn't enough lead time to check out the 30 games launched with the console, some of which, like "Zelda," take 70 hours to complete.

"It was too late for most of the gaming magazines to get reviews done in time for their holiday issues, so it could push more people online, which I guess is a nice thing for us," he said. "But I'd rather see more press for the Wii."

Mikutel explained that his enthusiasm for the Wii is not simply because his Web site depends on its success. He loves the new system because it "levels the playing field" between new and experienced video game players. Some of the games are short and simple, and many of them provide a workout.

Instead of jostling joysticks, players can use remote controls to mimic the movements of real-life activities like tennis and boxing. Even his 80-year-old grandmother, Dorothy Smith, tried the Wii out when she came for a visit.

"She's never played a video game before, and she beat me at bowling!" Mikutel said.

Smith smiled modestly. "I can be a little competitive," she confided. Then she noticed the words "The Wiire" on her grandson's T-shirt.

"Do you have something to do with this?" she asked, looking puzzled. "Why is it spelled wrong?"

LOGGING ON http://www.thewiire.com/