Rural New York Museum Has Feel of Farm Life

It was shaping up to be a hot day in Upstate New York’s Genesee Valley. Haze pressed down on the rolling farmland with an invisible force, while roadside trees stirred with great arboreal sighs, suggesting a merciful breeze in the air.

This atmosphere, dense and daintily resistant to passage, seemed right for a journey into the past. My 8-year-old daughter, Pauline, and I were going to the Genesee Country Museum, an open-air re-creation of 19th-Century life in the area that the Iroquois called Gen-nis-he-y , or beautiful valley.

Located in Mumford, 20 miles southwest of Rochester, the museum opened in 1976 on farmland that had been allowed to grow wild. More than 50 buildings (with 50,000 artifacts), set among gardens, fields and winding footpaths, seek to capture the feel and flavor of daily life in the region, from the time shortly after the Revolutionary War through the 1870s.

The faithful restoration of structures gathered from 11 historically rich counties in the surrounding area (using a variety of means, including barter and salvage) stands as a piece of modern pioneering.

Costumed interpreters “put clothes” on history, busying themselves with everyday 19th-Century routines, including cooking, farming, blacksmithing, broom-making--all with commentary and demonstrations that bring history to life, especially for children.

Indeed, some museum guides seemed to have suffered the misfortune of having been born in the wrong century, if their historical spirit is an indication of their heart’s desire.

Happily, for us anyway, there are modern consolations. Mowing the grass keeps the bugs down, and as we strolled to the village on the other side of The Great Meadow, we weren’t nostalgic about contracting a case of “Genesee fever,” a form of malaria that had plagued the pioneers.

“You really can’t go back,” I pointed out to Pauline, in my worst “Father Knows Best” manner, but she would have none of it. She was eager to see the past. Now.

At the end of the Great Meadow, we slipped past a tollhouse from one of the earliest plank roads in the region--serving as a kind of gateway to the 1800s--and set off, so to speak, down the quiet path of history.

A row of storefronts lined the village green, with representational signs that identified their trade to the high number of illiterates (then and now), while adding an appealing decorative touch for all. Spruced-up offices for the growing class of professionals sat a comfortable distance from the boardwalk.

The town hall, festooned in bunting for an upcoming Fourth of July celebration, managed to retain its formal dignity, like a judge itching for a holiday recess.

Across the square, a neat row of prosperous homes seemed to proclaim “We made it” to passersby, while their short fences perhaps as well insinuated, “And you didn’t.”

A bell sounded, rich and sonorous, from the immaculate three-tiered tower of the Brooks Grove Methodist Church. Overshadowed by the great height of the church, the modest parsonage resides in a snug corner of the churchyard, as befits the parson’s station as servant of a higher good.

Transfixed for a moment by the idealized plan of the square, with bonneted and brimmed town folk criss-crossing the green, our heartbeats slowed to the rhythm of an earlier, more peaceful time.

This picture of tranquillity drew us in so convincingly that we spent the rest of the day under the spell of a bygone era and returned again for another backward glance at “the way we were.”

The museum imparted a substantial amount of history without resorting to theme park nostalgia. Indeed, one could spend a couple of sunny days marveling at exterior details of structures such as the 1870 Octagon House (an idea so far ahead of its time that we have yet to see its day), the Greek Revival splendors of George Eastman’s boyhood home, and the rococo richness of the Italianate Hamilton House.

And the same number of rainy days appreciating their fine interiors.

“The furnishings you see are authentic, with the exception of the reproductions in the Shaker House,” said Jo Betz, public relations director for the museum. “Shaker originals are expensive and hard to come by.

“We are an educational institution and we pride ourselves on our careful research. Interior decoration is either faithful to the period or we use no decoration at all.”

Nearby, the reposeful bellowing of an ox was heard over the mindless bleating of lambs. Faint, wispy smoke rose from the clay-lined, wooden chimney of a pioneer’s cabin. A farmer chased a gaggle of geese into a pen, swiping at them with his straw hat while his wife came up from the barn, a basket of eggs swinging on her arm.

These images of country life, striking and vivid as they are, “put a deceptively attractive face on what was in fact an awfully hard life,” acknowledged museum director Stuart Bolger.

Later, we were reminded of this when the farmer’s wife, standing in the doorway to catch the faint breeze, told us that her homespun dress was all the clothing she owns.

A steady tap-tap came from inside a cobblestone blacksmith shop. Nails were being made. The blacksmith was working with all irons in the fire, to improve his efficiency, pounding out nails for the village.

The smith held up one so that we could admire his work. “Nails held their value then,” he told us. “Pioneers would sift through the ashes of burned down buildings to salvage the nails. A tenpenny saved was a penny earned.”

At the tinsmith’s, we heard a different story. “Tin was cheap, the plastic of its day,” said the tinsmith. “The tin peddler, the original ‘Yankee peddler,’ would make the rounds, selling replacement items or making simple repairs for people. The expression ‘Tinker’s dam’ is a comment on the cheap patch repair a peddler might provide.”

“Now a tin chair, that’s no throwaway,” the tinsmith added, pointing overhead to where a chair was hanging among cups, pots and barn lanterns. “One of two remaining--the other’s in the Smithsonian.”

“A tin chair,” he repeated, as if responding out of a special need to speak once for each chair.

At the Jones farmhouse, a sweet aroma was carried through the breezy kitchen to the outdoors. We let our noses guide us inside, where, after pausing to admire the stenciling in the parlor, we moved to the kitchen. Interpreter Marsha Swingle was baking bishop’s bread.

“A visit from the bishop was special, and ingredients--bits of chocolate or an extra egg--reflected the importance of the occasion,” she said.

We must have looked hungry, for she was quick to add that anything cooked by the interpreters could not be served to visitors. Authentic 1830s farm cooking did not satisfy health department requirements for public food service, she explained. “Try the Victorian Pavilion, though, you’ll like it.

“The cookie of the day is peanut butter chip,” she added.

Cookie of the day? Pauline’s spirits soared, with mine in tow.

The pavilion, with its blooming garden, soothing fountain and shade, was a perfect complement to our plate of cookies and gooseberryade. Rested time-travelers, we discussed our plans for a return visit.

When we did return, I stood at the edge of the Great Meadow and asked, “Who says that you can’t go back?”

But Pauline, ahead of me now, had learned her history well. She was checking the chalkboard for the cookie of the day.

GUIDEBOOK

Genesee Country Museum

Getting there: The museum is a little more than an hour’s drive east of Buffalo/Niagara Falls and approximately the same driving time west of New York’s Finger Lakes. Eastbound on Interstate 90, take Exit 46; westbound, Exit 47. Northbound on Interstate 390, take Avon Exit 10.

When to go: The museum is open mid-May to mid-October. In July and August it’s open daily from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Closed Mondays the other months, with reduced hours: 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Admission: Adults, $9; seniors (Monday-Friday only), $8; youths 13-17, $6; children 6-12, $4.50; children under 6, free. Free parking.

Special events: There’s something every weekend: an old-fashioned Fourth of July celebration, agricultural fair, quilt show and fiddler’s fair. Write the museum for the schedule.

The museum has two restaurants, an ice cream parlor and a tavern. Outdoor tables are available for picnics.

Where to stay: Genesee Country Inn, 948 George St., Mumford, N.Y. 14511, (716) 538-2500. A mile west of the museum is the Genesee Country Campground, 40 Flint Hill Road, P.O. Box 100, Caledonia, N.Y. 14423, (716) 538-4200. RV hookup, rental cabins.

For more information: The Genesee Country Museum, P.O. Box 310, Flint Hill Road, Mumford, N.Y. 14511. (716) 538-6822.