Mary McTamaney

I have reached age eighty this month. How did that happen when I wasn’t looking?! Although I can reflect on hundreds of incidents in our Newburgh story, it is just now dawning on me why. I’ve listened and learned and especially read about our local history for a very long time. I liked the subject of history best in school. I majored in it in college. I trained in library science and archives so I could make a long career out of researching for more stories that connect me to people who walked here before me.

The many past moments I have shared in this column for twenty-three years come from such research. I understand how precious it is to find valid connections in the documents and pictures left behind by others.

I have opened an old scrapbook that has been hidden away in a closet and seen a photo of teens swimming in the Hudson down at the coal docks in 1920. I have unfolded an old deed from the 1880’s and found the face of the property owner staring back at me from the tiny photo pasted in the bottom corner as an official seal. I have held a small diary and read the entry written by a Newburgh man fighting through the horrific Battle of the Hindenburg Line in World War One. I have listened to old audio tapes and heard the words of those who worked in the Home for the Friendless orphanage. While searching for a fact in old newspapers, I have found something else even more startling like a headline for “Race Riots” in the 1930’s that turns out to be a fight among three South William Street neighbors – immigrants from different central European countries. Likewise, in newspapers, I discovered that Newburgh was the scene of an early school shooting in 1891 when an angry neighbor opened fire with a shotgun on children playing outside Saint Mary’s School on Gidney Avenue.

I have spent many hours in distant archives. In the New York State Museum, I saw the incredibly giant and detailed diorama of Newburgh Bay at the end of the ice age with a mastodon and her calf standing at the base of Storm King Mountain. Also at the Albany Museum, I discovered a 19th century painting by Newburgh artist Charles Tice of a woman named Effie. Her serene face masks many stories including her early life as a slave in our village. In the state library, I have read some of the military dispatches of John Wool, a man who was born on Broad Street at the end of the 18th century and went on to serve in the army from the War of 1812 into the Civil War. He travelled the Trail of Tears as a young soldier, disobeying orders all along the way as he stopped the march of his company and their forced hostages and supplied food and shelter and clothing for the Cherokee in his care on that desperate journey. In a Newburgh attic, I found a collection of memorabilia about a Civil War hero including his cap, photograph, sword and wooden grave marker. Whatever I find in other locations, I copy and document for local archives too.

The Newburgh Historical Society is my best source for archival information. Founded in 1884, its upstairs library rooms hold so much that can be explored for decades to come. My eighty years are just a speck within its timeline. So, in honor of all those whose stories inspire us, help me secure additional resources for the historical society to continue gathering and indexing and storing our extraordinary documents and images. Contribute $80 in celebration of my years of history exploration. Our descendants will thank you when their turns come to ask “What happened here?”

Send a check to the Historical Society of Newburgh Bay and the Highlands (initials HSNBH are OK) at 189 Montgomery Street, Newburgh, NY 12550. Or log onto their website, newburghhistoricalsociety.org and click on the “Support” button on the top menu.