IF THOSE WALLS COULD TALK...MAYBE I CAN TALK A BIT FOR THEM

In grammar school, we learned about butter being churned. The history books came to life in Livingston Manor, New York, in the late 1950s as I watched “with my own eyes” as old Mrs. Tuttle sat on a stool near her kitchen table churning butter.

The scene of sitting in the farmer’s kitchen as a young child and watching his wife, whom I envision today as a calm version of Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies, magically making that fresh butter, jumped into my mind last May when my husband and I spent a quick overnight, “up the mountains.” Whenever we get the chance, we take the two-hour drive to the Sullivan County Catskills and revisit the summers of my youth.

On every venture, we ride along DeBruce Road with a turn at Tuttle Hill Road and a spin up the mountain road that I recall seeing Theodore (Ted) Tuttle trudging up daily with his lunch pail after his day’s work in the 1950s. Being in the area helps me envision those days of yonder when we played and hung out with the year-round mountain folks who lived next to the bungalow colony where we perched.

Do her descendants know that Mrs. Tuttle churned butter in her kitchen or that those summertime mountain dwellers watched as she worked? Do they remember Martin, her pleasant, wiry farmer husband?

Sending off a round of pictures of the special places in the area to our children, who got a yearly visit of the quiet scene, no longer bustling as it was in my childhood, was at once met with my daughter’s questioning about the for sale sign spotted at the Tuttle homestead, “Are you gonna buy it?” My response was, “That would be going full circle. It needs to be torn down. Total disrepair.”

What would Mrs. Tuttle and her husband Martin say about the house where they raised their ten sons? My cousin Irv told me that “the mailman, Mr. Smith, lived in the house in the 1950s. The Tuttles,” he added, “also bought a rich guys estate across the river with a footbridge.”

And, I certainly cannot forget the two summers after our cousins sold the bungalow colony on DeBruce Road when our family lodged in a Tuttle family member’s log cabin by the creek. With merely shuttered windows, we awoke shivering under our blankets, waiting impatiently for our mother to warm our socks with an electric heater before inching them onto our cold feet so we could run outside and play all day.

The Prentice family property once occupied by Elizabeth (Betty) and Elmer, Sr., and their 15 children stood between the main house of the bungalows and the house owned by the Tuttle family. Now, the former Prentice property is the scene of nursing cattle.

The house where I watched the older children, Elmer Jr., Rosie, and Donny standing on the front stoop, washing up the many younger siblings for lunch and handing them their sandwiches. Where, before and after, we played all day.

While the bungalows and the Tuttle homestead fell into disrepair over the declining years of the Catskills, and the log cabin and the Prentice’s house are long gone, for me, those grounds hold precious memories. The way I chose to remember them is filled with the warmth of family and friends.

“OBITUARY

Theodore Tuttle, of Livingston Manor, NY, passed away on February 16, 2021. He was 90 years old.

Theodore was born in the Tuttle home located on Tuttle Hill Road in Livingston Manor, NY on April 8, 1930 to Martin Tuttle and Mary Katherine Agnes Dunn Tuttle. Theodore graduated from Livingston Manor Central School and was employed as a custodian. He was his own handyman who loved to fix things and kept his tools handy at all times. He enjoyed keeping a small garden where he grew fresh vegetables for himself and to share with friends and loved ones.

Theodore had many brothers, and although he never married, he was a loyal family member. He loved his mother dearly and took care of his parents until they passed away. He is predeceased by his parents, Martin and Mary Tuttle; his brothers, David, Clifford, Kenneth, Albert, Roy, Philip, James, George, and Paul, and by his friends who knew and loved him.

Theodore desired to remain independent and enjoy his home and the company of his friends. He lived on the family homestead his entire life until his death. To be able to stay in his beloved home until his passing was his strongest desire; with the help of his home health aids, he was able to stay in his own home as he wished. We thank Tanya and her daughter Gail for always being there for him and watching over him daily. Theodore loved to walk to Tanya’s for a nice hot evening meal and to enjoy her company.

Visitation will be held on Saturday, April 24, 2021 from 11 am-1 pm at Colonial Bryant Funeral Home, Livingston Manor, followed by a graveside service at 1:30 pm at the Orchard Street Cemetery with Pastor Walter Haff officiating.

social distancing protocols will be in place; masks must be worn at all times.

Arrangements are under the care of Colonial Bryant Funeral Home, 29 Pearl Street, Livingston Manor, NY. For additional information, please contact the funeral home at 845-439-4333 or visit www.colonialfamilyfuneralhomes.com.”

Found under “Condolences” was:

“LINDA FLYNN

My condolences to the Tuttle family. My name is Linda Tuttle Flynn & I am the daughter of Arthur Tuttle. I had the pleasure of meeting Theodore on October 17, 2020 when he was outside & I was coming down Tuttle Hill Rd with my daughter & son in law after looking for the property that my brother David, who passed away November 4, 2019, had bought from Aunt Nellie years ago & built a cabin on it. It was back in the woods on the right side of the bend in the road. My brother sold it many years ago. We would go up each year to check it out. We would see Theodore sometimes outside but never stopped to talk to him. He didn’t remember anything about David or his cabin. Dave used to spend his summers with Thelma & Leland on their farm. I remember when I was little going to the reunions at the bottom of the hill. I would think of Theodore after meeting him & wondered how he was doing & then read his obituary in my paper & now I know he is resting peacefully with his family. I attached a photo that my daughter took on the day we met.”

On our jaunts with our children over the years, we would stop and speak with Ted when we saw him outside. The last time was in his dwindling years when he broke an unproclaimed Golden Rule by bringing up politics and religious bias.

My memories of seeing a young unembittered Ted walking home from work and his pleasant parents discussing innocuous things such as daily living on the farm will soften the memories. Watching Ted’s mother churning butter in their kitchen and recalling his friendly father dressed in flannel shirts, suspenders, and a straw hat are the memories I choose to hold dear.