The VanNostrand Homestead – Dalton, New York
Approximate Years 1946-1952
Ages 10-16
This is a continuation of the previous post of my grandfather VanNostrand’s autobiography.
The autobiography is transcribed exactly as it is presented in the original document, which was handwritten and did not have the benefit of spellcheck.
Page 11
Fred and I had many friends here in Livonia. And we traveled allover the township to play with our friends. My mother let us go all day long even though she did worry some. But we manged to be home in time for supper. I used to get home from school in the springtime grab my fishing pole, bait and a peck basket and hitch hike two miles to Lakeville walk to Pebble beach and fish in the creek were thousands of fish came to spawn. Catch a peck and hurry back out to the road, hitch hike home and clean all of the fish mostly perch and mom would cook them for supper. We must have eatin fish for a solid month.
We went to church every sunday after we moved to Livonia and we attended all of the church functions. There I really enjoyed very much. I had the mourning paper route and later got the afternoon paper route. I could earn money and buy things and started a savings account at Bowens State Bank. I mowed lawns in the summer and shoveled snow in the winter and sold candy in the winter also.
Fred and I collected papers and sold them at the junkyard for a penny a pound. We were busy boys.
Page 12
Then my dad sold the house in 1951 [my grandfather would have been 15 years old] and moved us back to Dalton. We moved into an apartment over Rolf Eisman’s warehouse.
Mom was pregnant for my brother Mike. Dad gave mom enough money to take car of things and he took a bus to Las Vegas to play the horses all summer. Came back with just $800.00 left. He got a job in Rochester. Bought a Henry J car and drove the 55 miles every day six days a week for a year. Fred and I enjoyed living in Dalton. This was home ground for our family. My Uncle Quinten lived there and my grandfather Fred owned and ran the Dalton Garage with my uncle Quinten.
My aunt Mary worked at the Post Office. And there were lots of Dad’s old friends that were glad to see us return to Dalton. I worked with Archie Maker in his bee yards. Fred and I spent all of our spare time making new friends and exploring the surrounding township that summer. My Uncle Quinten was the school supervisor and the VanNostrand name meant something here.
Quentin and Fred VanNostrand
We were glad and proud to be home. I started trapping that winter and Dad let me have a .22 rifle that I wanted. One morning I was checking my traps before school and
Page 13
I had caught a skunk under a pile of old lumber, behind Mr. Bakers farm. I went to Mr. Baker’s house before he went to work and asked if he had a .22 that I might borrow to shoot it with. He gave me his little Stevens Jr and nine cartridges. I shot the shunk. He told me I could use it until I used the rest of the shells. I took it home and showed my Dad the rifle when he got home. I told him Mr. Baker said I could use it for awhile. I told Dad that I wish I could have a .22. He said to ask Mr. Baker if he would sell it and I did. Mr. Baker said he wanted $4.00 for it. Dad said Ok and gave me me the $4.00 and I had my first of many guns. I took my NRA test over at Hunts and Dad bought my first hunting license.
I hunted every day for the rest of the winter for rabbits. And I should my first cock pheasant on the wing that winter. But was afraid to take it home it was out of season. So I built a fire and cooked it and ate most of it. I left the rest in the woods for the birds and the foxes.
School was great, I was in the 9th grade. I was learning the basics of competition wrestling. I was doing great
Page 14
in gymnastics and all sports.
There was a girl who was the younger sister of a good friend in my class. Here name was Donna Calburn. Dale, her brother and I spent a lot of time together on their farm. I was in love. When I was that the farm she would go to fetch eggs in the hay barn and I would go along, we would steal a kiss or two. Oh how my heart would pound.
There was a square dance at the High School every Friday night. The whole Colburn family would come and Donna and I were partners all night long.
Albert Nash from Hunts was my best friend. I spent a lot of time at his home thru that winter of 51-52. We hunted and I would help him with his chores. They lived on a dairy farm on the road to Short Tract. I would stay at his home some week nights and ride the bus to school with him and his sister Elaine.
I had my first trap line that winter. My Uncle Quinton gave me about 30 traps and I was in business. The next August, Dad moved us to Trumbull St. in Mt Morris.
Page 15
The year in Dalton was the beginning of a long love affair with hunting and fishing and trapping. I would go on until I was 26 before I stopped trapping and until I was 53 before I stopped hunting. God only knows till I stop fishing.
There was one day in that year that stands out. It was a very hot day, when Dad and I went fishing for trout at Barkertown creek and I caught my first large brown trout. It was a 16” dandy.
Dad took me down to the Barkertown Rd just a short way off of 408. He told me to bait up my line and throw it under the bridge and just let it lie there and let the trout find it. I was in the middle of the afternoon and it was very hot. Dad drank and beer and we waited. Finally Dad said, the hell with it, let’s get out here, it’s just too hot to sit here any longer. So I picked up my pole and started to reel in the line when the fish just exploded out from under the bridge. It was actually flying
Of the North Shore 