Clinton craze grips quiet, little N.Y. vacation spot
Skaneateles prepares for first couple
USA Today, Friday, August 27, 1999; Kathy Kiely
Abstract:
About 30 miles southwest of Syracuse in the middle of New York's rolling green dairy country, the village of Skaneateles boasts 2,754 inhabitants, 300 public parking
places, an all-volunteer fire department and 11 police officers -- five full-time and six part-time.
Nonetheless, Mayor Donald Price is confident Skaneateles will be able to handle the political and media onslaught that will accompany what just about everyone here
agrees is the first-ever visit by a sitting president.
Rick Kraetz has offered his Little Havana cigar store as a forum for Clinton to announce the end of the Cuban trade embargo.
Pink-cheeked, white-bearded Doug Clark, who made national headlines for announcing he wouldn't serve the Clintons at his fish fry restaurant, insists he was just
trying to stand up for his principles and never intended to become a cause celebre. "I have absolute love and respect for the Constitution," Clark says. On summer
Fridays, Clark ferries senior citizens from their homes to the town's free lakeside concerts in his "Dougie Buggy," a converted 1929 Ford truck covered with ads for
his restaurant.
Full Text:
Copyright USA Today Information Network Aug 27, 1999
SKANEATELES, N.Y. -- The storefronts are being washed and repainted. The signs and the bunting are starting to appear in the windows. The Chamber of
Commerce and a few concerned residents have put out the word to scrape off the gum and hose down the sidewalks.
With a few vocal exceptions, this mostly Republican lakeside hamlet is rolling out a red-white-and-blue carpet greeting for President Clinton and his
potential-senator-wife, Hillary Rodham Clinton, who arrive Monday.
"We haven't had this much excitement in town since Banjo Greenfield's son, 'Dozer, towed his double-wide through town, and all the street lights had to be
raised," town recreation director Matt Major says with a grin. "That puts it right up there, doesn't it?"
About 30 miles southwest of Syracuse in the middle of New York's rolling green dairy country, the village of Skaneateles boasts 2,754 inhabitants, 300 public
parking places, an all-volunteer fire department and 11 police officers -- five full-time and six part-time.
Nonetheless, Mayor Donald Price is confident Skaneateles will be able to handle the political and media onslaught that will accompany what just about
everyone here agrees is the first-ever visit by a sitting president.
"We're ready," he declared in his office, which has a calming view of Skaneateles Lake. "We're delighted he's coming."
The serene, aquamarine lake is what brings most visitors here, but for the Clintons, there are other attractions.
As soon as Air Force One touches down at Syracuse-Hancock International Airport, Hillary Clinton, an unofficial Senate candidate here, will make a beeline for
the state fair, a 12-day extravaganza held at Syracuse's Empire Expo Center. The first lady, possibly accompanied by her husband, is expected at the annual
luncheon held by state Comptroller Carl McCall, the state's senior Democratic official.
Later in the week, the Clintons will be the featured attraction at two fund-raisers for Hillary Clinton's expected campaign, one in downtown Syracuse, the other in
nearby Cazenovia. In between, the president has scheduled two rounds of golf with some area political and financial powerhouses.
All of which has left some Skaneateles residents worried that the Clintons won't have enough time to savor the ambience of their stubbornly small, proudly
behind-the-times town.
"It's a piece of American apple pie as far as I'm concerned," real estate agent Linda Roche says. "I know they're here for political reasons, but I wish they could
come and enjoy it for what it is."
Even the town's most vocal Clinton critics seem good-natured.
Pink-cheeked, white-bearded Doug Clark, who made national headlines for announcing he wouldn't serve the Clintons at his fish fry restaurant, insists he was
just trying to stand up for his principles and never intended to become a cause celebre. "I have absolute love and respect for the Constitution," Clark says. On
summer Fridays, Clark ferries senior citizens from their homes to the town's free lakeside concerts in his "Dougie Buggy," a converted 1929 Ford truck covered
with ads for his restaurant.
Just up the street, former Republican town supervisor and retired state trooper JohnAngyal helps kids at the soft ice cream dispenser at Johnny Angel's
Heavenly Hamburgers. "Didya finish your lunch?" he asks. "You get sprinkles if you finish your lunch."
Angyal, who's gotten so much publicity for his "Hillary special" -- a sandwich featuring "lots of baloney" -- fully expects the first lady "to prove she can take a
joke" by stopping by to sample one.
Though Clark and Angyal are among the most popular businessmen in town, where Republicans outnumber Democrats by about 3 to 1, other community
leaders are exasperated that their antics have gotten so much press. Many residents here say they'll be thrilled to have the Clintons as neighbors for a week.
"I'd like to have them come in and sit down and talk to me," town supervisor Bill Pavlus, a Republican, says. "We're all good people here -- regardless of what
party we come from."
Rick Kraetz has offered his Little Havana cigar store as a forum for Clinton to announce the end of the Cuban trade embargo. Seventh-graders Pete Elliott and
Justin Furnia have a lemonade stand offering "Clinton specials" up the road from where the first family is staying. The Skaneateles Community Band has even
scheduled an extra concert and invited the president to bring his sax.
Judi West of the Patchwork Plus quilting supply shop says: "If Mrs. Clinton comes in, I'll be glad to teach her to quilt."
Skaneateles is likely to present a decided change of pace for the Clintons, whose past vacations have featured such glamorous outings as sailboat rides with
Jacqueline Onassis and Walter Cronkite, parties with actors Ted Danson and Sly Stallone, and dinners with business moguls Bill Gates and Warren Buffett.
"This is a little bit different from living in the Hamptons," Price says. The closest thing to a local celebrity here is former Atlanta Falcon defensive back Tim
Green, who grew up in nearby Liverpool, N.Y., and was a star on the Syracuse University football team. He works as a TV broadcaster.
One planned big night out for the Clintons will feature a trip to Syracuse. The first lady will meet contributors to her Senate campaign at a classically dark sports
bar, decorated with big screens, old New York Giants and Buffalo Bills helmets and the discarded rowing scull of a local high school crew.
There are some tony country clubs in the area, including two that have hosted the PGA Senior Tour. But the golf facility closest to where the president will be
staying is Divot Hill, the actual name of a driving range.
A sign in the often-unmanned shed invites duffers to abide by the "honor system" and stuff $2, $3 or $5 into the metal lockbox depending on the size of the
bucket of balls they select.
The back fence is the 250-yard mark. A drive longer than that carries into a neighboring corn field.
None of which is to say that Skaneateles is a hick town.
Since the days when the St. Lawrence Seaway was being built, just a 90-minute drive north of here, tycoons have been plunking down fortunes to build
imposing homes on the shores of Skaneateles' almost impossibly clear, blue lake. The town is home to Welch Allyn, a leading manufacturer of sophisticated
medical equipment, which employs about 800 locally, and to T.C. Timber, the U.S. branch of an international toy maker, Habermaass.
All of which means that Skaneateles is a prosperous, well-manicured town with more than its share of top-flight restaurants and specialty shops. But for most
residents, they are not the draw.
Whether it's Clark, who gave up his life as a "shot-and-beer" tavern owner in Syracuse to open his fish fry here, or Doug Allis, a 77-year-old North Carolina
retiree who returns every summer to the lakeside cabin his family has owned since 1914, this town's boosters say it's the intangibles that attracted them.
"We're making half of what we did in Boston," says Sue Dove, a Skaneateles native who moved back to help run the Chamber of Commerce with her husband. "I
can think of a whole bunch of my high school friends who moved elsewhere and have now come back. It's the quality of life."
Skaneateles is a place where you can still get married under a gazebo and where the marrying judge, if he happens to be John Angyal, will offer a 30-day
money-back guarantee (he says he only had to pay once). It's a place where summer residents wait on the docks at noon every day to cheer as an antique little
boat chugs by with its long-handled fishing nets extended to pick up their mail.
It's a place where regulars at the bakery don't even have to order when they sit down at the Formica counter because waitress Debbie Buehler already knows
what they want. It's a place where the rich and famous are willing to pay big bucks to buy into the simple life.
Some new lakeside buyers are like local developer Thomas McDonald, who tore down the house he bought to build the 8,000-square-foot compound where the
Clintons will be staying. But Roche says a New York City client of hers recently paid $350,000 for a five-bedroom lakeside cabin with exposed beams, no
insulation and metal furniture and doesn't intend to change a thing. He told her it was perfect because it reminded him of the camp where he went as a kid.
Though there's some trepidation that the pending media spotlight might spoil the tranquility, many Skaneateles residents are looking forward to next week's visit
as a chance to show the nation what makes their town special.
"It's an honor," says Bob Coffin of T.C. Timber. "And this is a community that deserves it."
TEXT OF INFO BOX BEGINS HERE:
The skinny on Skaneateles
How to say it: Most natives seem to pronounce it as they would a slim book of maps: skinny-ATLAS. Another school insists it's skay-NEE-atlas.
What it means: It's Iroquois for "long lake."
Dimensions: Skaneateles Lake is 16 miles long, 1 1/2 miles across at its widest point. It reaches 378 feet in depth at its southern end. Summer water temperatures
range from 70 degrees in shallow coves to 55 degrees in the middle of the lake.
Most important product: The teasel, an odd plant with spikes that is featured on the town shield. From the mid-1800s to the mid-1900s, it was cultivated here and
assembled for woolen mills, where it was used to raise the nap of fine fabrics. Today, metal manufactured devices do the job of the teasel.
"Don't let anyone tell you a teasel is a thistle," says town historian Helen Ionta. "It makes my hair stand on end."
Oldest building: A 1796 wood frame building on Genesee Street now occupied by the shop Pomodoro.
Most expensive building: The Ruston lakeside estate. Asking price: $4.9 million with the boathouse; $2.2 million without.
