history

The Holland Land Office Museum hosted a Civil War Tea and Fashion Show this afternoon. Dona LaValle (gray dress) lectured in detail about Civil War fashion, mostly in the South; a model did show off a typical dress from the North during the era.

Participants included Melissa Landers, Kaitlyn Landers, Candice, Rachel and Elien Bachorski, Mary Joe Eddy, Rita Reichle and Anne Marie Starowitz.

Vocalist Amy Savino, accompanied by Jeffrey M. Fischer, performed (bottom photo).

Batavia officially became a city on January 1, 1915, after having been an incorporated village since 1823. The transition involved a progression through several steps during 1914. During 2014, I will be acknowledging each of these events 100 years after their occurrence.

Earlier this week, I reported on a hearing that took place in Albany where competing charter proposals were presented before a joint committee of Senators and Assemblymen. One proposal, offered by a Charter Revision Commission appointed several years earlier by village leaders, was notable in that it proposed a city in which the government would consist of a city manager and five nonpartisan councilmen elected at large. The other proposal, offered by the existing Board of Aldermen who currently governed the village, proposed a city in which the government would consist of a mayor and six councilmen, all with political affiliations. The relative merits of these competing proposals can be judged by what occurred 100 years ago this week.

Under the Village of Batavia charter that existed in 1914, village elections took place in March rather than in the fall as they do now. Going into the election 100 years ago, Republicans were in control of village affairs. However, after the election, a Democrat was the new mayor and the majority of the aldermen were also Democrats. Following the election, a headline in The Daily News read, “Democrats will sweep the deck: Little prospect of Republicans being left in Village positions.”

This was not a surprise to anyone. It was the tradition of patronage politics in Batavia and elsewhere. Because there were political parties involved in our community’s government, whenever the political majority changed, people like the village clerk, treasurer, police justice, village engineer, and even the fire chief traditionally lost their jobs because they belonged to the “wrong” party. The Charter Revision Commission sought to end this practice by establishing a nonpartisan city government.

In two weeks, I’ll let you know how the State Senate and Assembly responded to the competing proposals for Batavia’s future, one continuing the practice of partisan political affiliations and the other designed to establish a city government free of party politics.

Batavia officially became a city on Jan. 1, 1915, after having been an incorporated village since 1823. The transition involved a progression through several steps during 1914. I will be acknowledging each of these events 100 years after their occurrence in 1914.

Last month, I reported on how the Village of Batavia Aldermen, the equivalent of today’s City Council, had become unhappy with the work of a Charter Revision Commission appointed several years earlier. As a result, the Aldermen wrote a competing proposal and presented it to the community on Feb. 4, 1914. Then the Aldermen announced that their proposal would be submitted to a straw vote in order to gauge community support. The ballot simply read, “Shall the charter as prepared by the Aldermen be sent to Albany?” When voters cast 488 “yes” votes versus 451 “no” votes, the Aldermen chose to see the results as a ringing endorsement of their proposal and sent it off to the State Senate and Assembly.

It was 100 years ago, March 10, 1914, that a joint committee from the Assembly and Senate met to hear the competing charter proposals. Edward Russell, chair of the Charter Revision Commission, spoke to the gathering. He asserted that: the straw vote on the Aldermen’s proposal had not been taken in a proper or legal manner; that ballots were pre-marked and passed out on the street to any who might wish to go in and vote; that the total vote was a small proportion of the eligible voters; and that persons had voted who were not eligible to do so. Furthermore, Russell said, the Aldermen had used misrepresentation and deceit to persuade “liquor interests” to pay for lobbyists to speak against the proposal of the Charter Revision Commission.

At this point, Batavia’s mayor, Louis Wiard, rose to speak against these charges. But before he could do so, Senator Thomas Cullen, who was chairing the hearing, expressed disbelief that a community like Batavia would conduct an irregular vote and gaveled the session to a close.

In two weeks, I’ll let you know what happened when the Senators and Assemblymen eventually voted on the two charter proposals.

Dave Armitage

An Army field hospital during the Civil War must have been a horrid place to be. The stench of curdled blood. Limbs piled under the surgeon's table. The moans of the injured and dying. The acrid aura of death hanging in the air like a fog. The distant sounds of cannons turning more boys into fodder.

Hades holds more joy.

Warfare will always be a horror show, but it will never be like that again. The primitive conditions of a Civil War field hospital are just part of history now.

It's a history that can be found in museums, but not often quite in the way it's on display now at the Holland Land Office Museum.

Through April, visitors to HLOM can glimpse a time long ago in color and in 3-D, and in 1/32nd scale, when there was never enough morphine, scalpels were blunt and gangrene left a generation of young men crippled beyond repair.

In a display of dioramas and models created by local artist Dave Armitage, the Civil War comes to life in a way that mere photographs and historians' voluminous accounts can never capture.

We call Armitage an artist because like an artist, he creates, he imagines, he takes the formless and fills a void with a world that we all can share. He's more than just a model maker, though he might be too humble to call himself anything else.

The field hospital, part of a exhibit of dozens of models and dioramas at HLOM, all meticulously pieced together by Armitage, is such a work. It's creative and emotionally charged.

Armitage is originally from Williamsville but has lived in Batavia for a number of years. Since childhood, he's built more models than he can count. "Thousand and thousands," he said.

"People say, 'you've got too much time on your hands,' " Armitage said. "I say, 'no, I haven't got enough.' I've got (a) room in my house filled with unbuilt model kits that filled up two SUVs when I moved. Several thousand dollars worth of unbuilt kits. Some go back to the 1950s, the 1940s and some are made out of wood, not plastic. I figure someday, if I live long enough, I'll build them."

The only models that interest Armitage are those that depict something old, and old means before his lifetime, before the end of World War II.

"Anything after that is in my lifetime," Armitage said. "I mean, I saw it and I've been there. I'm interested in old things. When I was a little kid I was interested in old cars. I always used to draw pictures of old cars."

When he was a kid, his father's friends and relatives would come over to their house and the group would work on old cars. The boy was given model kits to work on -- the Revell Pioneer Series of the 1950s.

By the time Armitage was 17 he had worked enough and saved enough to buy his own Ford Model T, which he restored and still owns, along with three other vintage cars (a 1919 Model T Touring car, a 1925 Model T Depot Hack and a 1926 Star Station Wagon).

The 64-year-old Armitage is also a musician and Civil War reenactor, as is his wife, Donna. He's retired and he spends his time with this hobbies.

"I don't go out for sports. I never did," Armitage said. "I don't watch television very much. I spend all my time building models or playing music or working on old cars."

The Civil War isn't the only war that interests Armitage. He's built models and dioramas for battles scenes from the Crimean War, the American Revolution, the Russian Revolution, World War I and World War II.

"I don't like painting figures from the Napoleonic Era and back because they're too complex," Armitage said. "Their uniforms are too difficult with all the straps and buttons. The Civil War is bad enough."

And war isn't Armitage's only subject. There's old cars, of course, but Armitage also remains fascinated with the horror films of his youth - "Frankenstein" and "Dracula," and even "The Munsters."

In fact, Jeff Donahue, the director HLOM, is talking about displaying Armitage's monster collection around Halloween.

Donahue has been aware for some time that Armitage built models of history and had seen a couple, but never considered a display until Armitage approached him after one of his Civil War music performances at the museum.

"He asked me over to his house and I walked in and I was in shock," Donahue said.

What's on display at HLOM is only a portion of the Civil War collection.

"I had them stacked three or four high at home," Armitage said, "and Donna said, 'you're not building more stuff are you?' and I said, 'yeah.' 'Where you gonna put it?' 'I don't know.' "

The collection has rarely left his home. He's displayed some models at the train museum in Medina and he's taken a few to the Civil War reenactment camps, but they don't draw much attention there.

"I think most of the time people are more interested in watching the battles and the things going on outside," said the soft-spoken Armitage, whose gray mustache is as much a throwback to the 19th Century as some of the models he builds.

The Civil War collection at HLOM covers the panoply of the Battle Between the States. There are miniatures of historical figures from Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis to Ulysses S. Grant and Abe Lincoln; there are scenes depicting historic events; scenes depicting behind-the-lines life; and models of the machinery of war, from cannons to submarines.

"Dave has reproduced this to the finest minute detail," Donahue said. "It's shocking in a way, but of course war is shocking and the Civil War was a very horrible time. The man is a very gifted artist and this is artistry."

For many of the models, Armitage has typed up captions in the hopes that people will read and learn a little more about the Civil War.

"If they read half of what I typed up, they might learn something," said Armitage, a man of few words who gets right to the point on any question asked.

It's fascinating to see the old ships of the era, but what's interesting is the variety and number of ironclads and submarines on display.

We grow up learning about the Monitor and Merrimack, but have you ever seen the USS Alligator or the CSS Hunley?

Some of what Armitage builds comes from kits -- the ships and ironclads, for example, but what is often most fascinating and amazing are the scenes he depicts using a combination of kits and scratch-built pieces

The field hospital scene, for example, began with a model kit for a Union ambulance -- a wagon that could carry four wounded men and two medics.

Armitage didn't want to build just an ambulance. He wanted to put it in context.

A good portion of the scene springs from his own imagination and ingenuity, such as the tent, the scalpels and medicine bottles, the light by General Grant, or repurposed pieces, such as the surgeon that was originally a 1930s-era gangster, but Armitage shaved off his overcoat and put a blood-stained smock on him.

The black man sitting all bandaged up was created by Armitage from modeling clay.

On another model, the oars of a rowboat are shaped from soldering iron.

"You've got to think outside of the box," Armitage said. "You see something and think, 'I can make something out of that,' like I save the little brass rings from the ends of guitar strings and all kinds of junk."

Armitage said he has boxes and boxes of junk -- what model makers often call a boneyard -- waiting to be made into something.

When it came time to depict The Andrews Raid (the basis for the Disney movie, "The Great Locomotive Chase"), Armitage used toner from a copier cartridge to get the charred, burned out look on the blown-to-smithereens train station and littered the scene with repurposed former toy trains.

"I couldn't find any suitable Civil War soldiers in fatigues so I used Russian soldiers and shaved off their pockets," Armitage said.

Some of the scenes created by Armitage are inspired by photographs, such as the Matthew Brady picture of skulls and body parts being exhumed from the battlefield at Cold Harbor, Va.

"A lot of the soldiers pinned their names into their coats because they knew they weren't going to survive," Armitage said. These were the days before dog tags. When they dug them up, if they could identify the remains they notified somebody back home and if the family could afford it, they shipped the remains back home and buried him. If not, they reburied him there."

The scene might be shocking to some, but then war is shocking.

"As we've often said, history is not Hallmark," Donahue said. "History is not pretty. The Civil War was perhaps the ugliest times in our country's history.

"(The scene) brings a realization to people of what it was all about. What this country went through at that time. Families were literailly torn apart. The old saying brother fighting brother, well, happened. You didn't know if you would ever see your family members again or what kind of condition they would be in. The amputations, the horrific wounds of the war, due to the type of weaponry being used. Unfortunately, when a person was shot in the arm, many times it exploded the bone and there was nothing left to do but amputation. People died of shock from their injuries.

"It certainly brings home the cruelty of war. Very often people think, it's romanticized. They see the banners and the soldiers all dressed up and they think of maybe 'Gone with the Wind', but even later on in that movie, they showed the cruelty of war, how people were torn up, their lives were disrupted and never the same."

Armitage's work so masterfully captures a time and a place that is part of the fabric of our history that it's easy to get lost in the exhibit.

"I've had visitors come in, and you know, they normally spend five minutes or so to walk through," Donahue said. "With this, they come in and and you get busy working and you realize I haven't seen these people in a while and you go up and you look and they're in here an hour later, just examining every minute detail."

Armitage is grateful HLOM is providing a place for people to come and see his work.

"I'm glad to have stuff on display here because most of the time it just sits around my house and nobody sees it," Armitage said.

Batavia officially became a city on January 1,1915, after having been an incorporated village since 1823. The transition involved a progression through several steps during 1914. During 2014, I will be acknowledging each of these events 100 years after their occurrence.

Early in 1914, Village of Batavia Aldermen, the equivalent of today's City Council, had become unhappy with the work of the Charter Revision Commission appointed several years earlier. The Commission had developed a proposal for Batavia becoming a city that eliminated wards, eliminated political parties, and established a government run by a manager and five councilmen elected at large. As a result, the Aldermen wrote a competing proposal and presented it to the community on February 4, 1914. Then the Aldermen announced that their proposal would be submitted to a straw vote in order to gauge community support. That vote took place 100 years ago, today.

Voters might have anticipated that the ballot would provide an opportunity to indicate which proposal they preferred, the Commission's as described above, or the Aldermen's proposal which retained wards, retained partisan politics, and featured a mayor rather than a city manager. Instead, the ballot simply read, "Shall the charter as prepared by the Aldermen be sent to Albany?"

Since the Commission's proposal was already in Albany, a "yes" vote could only indicate a voter's desire to have both proposals presented before the State legislature. The wording on the ballot did not allow for a clear understanding of how voters assessed the relative merits of the two proposals. However, when voters cast 488 "yes" votes versus 451 "no" votes, the Aldermen chose to see the results as a ringing endorsement of their proposal over that of the Commission.

A month from now, I will provide another news release, this time reporting on what happened when the two competing proposals were presented to a joint committee of Senators and Assemblymen.

Batavia officially became a city on January 1, 1915 after having been an incorporated village since 1823. The transition involved a progression through several steps during 1914. During 2014, I will be recalling each of these events 100 years after their occurrence.

In the early 1900s, village leaders appointed a Charter Review Commission for the purpose of drawing up a city charter proposal. Despite several submissions to the State, the Commission’s proposal consistently failed to gain the necessary State approval. The matter came to a head early in 1914. On this day, 100 years ago, the Village of Batavia aldermen, the equivalent of today’s City Council, unhappy with the Commission’s work, offered a competing proposal.

One reason for the failure of the Commission’s proposal to receive State approval had been lobbying by certain Village aldermen against specific parts of the proposal that caused them displeasure. Those parts included the elimination of wards, the elimination of political parties, the election of councilmen solely at large, and the creation of a city manager position. Political pundits predicted that the Board of Aldermen’s proposal would have none of these features.

The pundits were right. The aldermen’s charter proposal, made public 100 years ago today, not only retained wards, but increased them from five to six. It retained political affiliations, featured a strong mayor, and doubled Batavia’s representation on the County’s Board of Supervisors. It also had a particularly novel feature. Under the aldermen’s proposal, if at least 25 percent of the voters petitioned for enactment of a particular ordinance, the Common Council had to either adopt the ordinance or submit it to a vote by city residents.

In a move surprising some, the aldermen promised to put their proposal to a straw vote of residents just six days hence. Next week, I will provide another news release, this time revealing the outcome of that vote.

When the Tonawanda Creek crested at 11.94 feet at 6:30 p.m. yesterday, it wasn't anywhere near its historical high.

In March, 1942, the river overflowed at 14.5, making the resulting flood the worst in Batavia history.

It caused an estimated $500,000 damage and put many people out of their homes for days.

Greg Brockway, of Pembroke, brought in these two pictures this morning from the 1942 flood.  They were taken on the Southside in the area of the Jackson School showing Hutchings, Otis and Swan.

The last time the Tonawanda crested over 12 feet (considered the major flood level) was 1998 when it hit 12.44. It hit 11.71 in December 2008, and twice in 2009 it exceeded 10.5 feet, once in February and again in March.

The creek has crested at more than 10 feet on 24 ocassions in the more than 60 years the National Weather Service has been measuring creek levels.

The Holland Land Office Museum welcomed three new board members at its annual meeting dinner meeting tonight and honored longtime museum supporter Helen Batchellor.

Batchellor, on the right, became involved with HLOM 50 years ago and stepped down from her board seat this year after 30 years on the board.

New board members are, Robert Ettinger, left, Aaron Blake and Donna Mruczek.

The dinner was held at GO ART!

This is a copy of a photo, like the one below, that I acquired last night at auction through Bontrager's.

It was shot Dec. 4, 1940.

The photographer was William Seaver. He resided for a time at 21 Ellicott Ave., Batavia. His office was at 90 Main St., Batavia.

We can assume, I think, that this picture was taken from his office window. The exquisite sharpness and detail of the photo suggests he was using a quality, large format camera (the single sheet of film was likely 8x10, much larger than 35mm film). 

The block you see is the south side of Main Street from Court Street (where the Hotel Richmond stood) to perhaps Jackson Street or just west of Jackson Street.

Seaver's office would have been approximately where Hillside Children's Center is now, on the west end of the mall.

Comparing it to the photo below, Seaver used a wider angle lens for the 1940 shot than he did for the 1927 shot. In 1927, he used some sort of telephoto lens. I don't know 8x10 format lenses all that well. It appears he used a wider angle lens in 1940 than he did in 1927 based on the crop and compression of space.

When I stopped by the County History office today, Larry Barnes, the city's historian was there. He had seen the 1927 shot before. It's in his book "Batavia Revisited." He had never seen the 1940 shot before.

I'm not sure if there are any descendants of William Seaver still in Batavia, but it would be something if his negatives still existed. These are high-quality photographs and it would be a shame if his negatives (and who knows what else he shot) were lost.

This geneology page says "William Seaver registered for the World War I draft on 12 September 1918 in Batavia, Genesee County, New York. He was age 45, born 18 May 1873. 

In 1910, he lived at 35 Center St., Batavia. In 1920, he lived at 21 Ellicott Ave., Batavia, and 1930, he was a lodger residing at 102 West Main St. In each census he was single, even at age 56, so perhaps he has no descendants.

There was also a William Seaver who lived in Batavia before the photographer. He was the first captain of the first fire department and a president of the Village of Batavia in 1838. That Seaver appears to have published a book in 1849 called "A Historical Sketch of the Village of Batavia."

The older William Seaver, judging by the genealogy site, was the uncle of the photographer William Seaver. The photographer's father was David Seaver, the son of a William Seaver born in 1789 in Peru, Mass., and died in Batavia in 1871.

To aid in seeing the pictures at a higher resolution, I've put them into a slideshow below. I recommend viewing them in full-screen mode.

Local historians from throughout Genesee County were in County Building #2 today for the official ribbon cutting on the History Department's new home. Cutting the ribbon above are Legislator Esther Leadley and Legislature Chairwoman Mary Pat Hancock while County Historian Sue Conklin looks on.

Previously: Big task complete, history department settles into new digs at County Building #2

I couldn't make it to the marker dedication for the East Boundary of the Holland Land Purchase at Four Corners in Stafford on Friday. Sue Conklin sent along this photo and the press release below.

On Friday, November 8th 2013 a historical marker commemorating the Eastern Boundary of the Holland Land Purchase was dedicated in Stafford at the intersection of routes 5 and 237. More than 20 people attended the dedication ceremony, which included a brief reading of the history of the survey and a gun salute provided by the War of 1812 militia. 

Following the dedication the Stafford Historical Society served cider and donuts and several people toured their award-winning museum.

Prior to the dedication a survey using original links and transit was conducted by:

• Rochelle Stein, Genesee County legislator for District No. 5
• Lynne Belluscio, Le Roy House director and LeRoy Village historian
• Susan Conklin, Genesee County historian
• Phyllis Darling, Stafford Historical representative
• Jeffery Donahue, Holland Land Office Museum director

This survey revealed the location of the marker and the actual boundary line is over by 83 links. Had the marker been installed in the actual location, it would be in the center of the intersection of Route 237, something the Department of Transportation would have forbidden. The Town of Stafford graciously provided the Genesee County History Department with an alternative spot.

Welcoming Remarks / Mary Pat Hancock Genesee County Legislator:

"Genesee County included not only the Holland Land Purchase, but many other smaller land tracts. The County had six land companies with the Holland Land Purchase being the largest. It included two-thirds of the county lands and was located west of the Transit Line.  The other smaller companies were located east of the Transit Line and include one third of the county lands. The other land tract companies were the Connecticut, Triangle, Phelps & Gorham, Craigie and the 40,000 Acre.  

"When the Holland Purchase was made, the land was in Ontario County, with the county seat in Canandaigua. On March 30, 1802, Genesee County was formed with the county seat in Batavia. As populations grew, eight other Western New York counties were carved from the original Genesee County.

"The eastern boundary of the 3.3-million acre Holland Land Purchase bisects the old State Road, now known as Route 5, in the Town of Stafford. This boundary runs from the State of Pennsylvania north to Lake Ontario. The Holland Land Purchase extends west from this line to Lake Erie and the Niagara River.

"Today we honor the Holland Land Purchase and commemorate their Eastern Boundary."

For generations, the Richmond name dominated civic life in Batavia.

Dean Richmond was one of the most successful businessmen of his generation -- from the time he inherited his father's salt works company when he was 15 until his death in 1866. Mary Richmond continued and grew her husband's business empire and served on numerous local boards and committees. Their daughter carried on the tradition of local involvement and leadership.

But by the mid-part of the 20th Century, the Richmond family had dispersed to other parts of the country, but still, the Richmond name looms large in Batavia.

There is, of course, the Richmond Memorial Library, and the Richmond Mausoleum in the Batavia Cemetery.

But sadly, the once grand Richmond Mansion -- actually built in 1839 by Col. William Davis -- was torn down by a short-sighted City Schools board in 1970. All that's left is a wrought iron fence surrounding a parking lot owned by St. Joseph's.

Now, at least, there is a historical marker on the site to commemorate the location of the mansion.

The unveiling ceremony was attended by two generations of Richmonds, Harold Richmond, above, with his sons Kyle and Alex with his wife Cheryl.

Harold Richmond said it's quite an honor to see his great-great-grandfather remembered and honored in Batavia.

"It's great that the family gets recognized," said Richmond, a resident of New Jersey. "The Richmonds aren't really any different from anybody else today. We don't have anybody of note in the family that I know of, but the fact that the city has maintained the history and recognized the contributions of Dean Richmond and his wife and his daughter is just amazing."

As for the destruction of the Richmond Mansion -- which local preservationists tend to think of a huge loss to the community -- Richmond was forgiving.

"Maintaining that mansion in the 1970s, with that orphanage going away, that's a huge financial burden on a community," Richmond said. "It doesn't shock or surprise me that they had to make that choice. It was probably a good financial choice at that time. It's sad that it couldn't have been sustained as a museum or Masonic lodge or something like that, but it's understandable."

Harold Richmond pointing to the crypt of his great-grandfather with his son Alex inside the Richmond Mausoleum.

The Richmonds, Harold, Kyle, Cheryl and Alex, with Sharon Burkel inside the Richmond Mausoleum.

Press release:

On Friday, Nov. 8th at 11 a.m. a dedication of an historic marker for the former Richmond Mansion will be held at the Richmond Memorial Library. The Mansion, built in the 1830s by Col. William Davis and enlarged by Dean and Mary Richmond in the 1850s, stood in the parking lot that now serves St. Joseph’s Church and the Richmond Memorial Library. For many years after the death of the Richmonds, it housed the Children’s Home. The structure was torn down in 1970.

Dean Richmond amassed a fortune in Great Lakes shipping. He was instrumental in the creation of the New York Central Railroad and served as the railroad’s second president.  Dean Richmond was also instrumental in bringing the State School for the Blind to Batavia, which is why the street running in the front of the School is named Richmond Avenue. The Richmond Memorial Library was a gift to the community from Mary Richmond in memory of a son who died in early adulthood.

The historic marker is being placed at the foot of the walkway between the parking lot and the Library. It has been funded by a $1,050 grant to the City by the William G. Pomeroy Foundation of Syracuse.

Attending the dedication ceremony will be Harold Richmond III of New Jersey, the great-great-grandson of Dean and Mary Richmond. Also in attendance will be a representative of the William G. Pomeroy Foundation. City Historian Larry D. Barnes will lead the dedication.

Later in the day, historic markers funded by the William G. Pomeroy Foundation will also be dedicated in Stafford and at the former county home in Bethany.

To the untrained eye, the 11 objects found in Darien last week look just like a handful of rocks, but archeologists have determined they are prehistoric artifacts. They're also a wrinkle in the county's plan to build a 21st Century emergency communications system.

The artifacts were found at the site of a planned communications tower near the Darien Fire Hall.

The county's contractor hired an Atlanta-based archeological firm to do a test dig on the site, which uncovered the artifacts.

The artifacts have not been dated nor their origin determined. They're just obviously very, very old.

Contrary to rumor, Undersheriff William Sheron said, the site is not an "Indian burial ground."

A report has been sent to the state's Office of Archeology and the county expects to receive instructions on what to do next.

Sheron noted that when Tops built a new distribution center off Genesee Street, an Indian burial ground was found and the project was delayed six months so the remains and artifacts could be properly secured.

In other words, Sheron said, the artifacts found in Darien do not necessarily mean the site can't be used for a communications tower.

The county is building three new towers as part of the $10.8 million communications upgrade project. While the county must complete phase one of the project -- under a federal mandate -- by February, the towers are all planned for phase two of the project, which isn't scheduled for completion until next summer. 

While the Sheriff's Office would like to stay on schedule, Sheron said officials recognize the find in Darien could delay construction of that tower.

"We hope it doesn't get delayed, but if there are issues that need to be addressed, we'll address them and meet whatever requirements we need to meet," Sheron said. "If it becomes cost prohibitive, we'll look for another site."

Previously:

• Sheriff's Office receives $5.4 million grant for radio system upgrade
• Grants and bond will pay for $10.8 million upgrade to emergency communications system
• It turns out, nobody currently makes scanners for the county's new emergency radio system

Photographer John Spaulding stopped by the antique truck show at the Stafford Fire Hall this weekend and then sent us a few of his pictures.

One of Genesee County's grandest of the old barns collapsed today.

A good portion of the yellow barn next to the Stafford Fire Hall on Main Road, Stafford, simply gave way about 1:45 p.m.

Stafford Fire Chief Bill Plaisted said residents heard a lot of creaking coming from the old barn -- probably built in the 1830s -- all this morning.

Firefighters used a thermal-imaging camera to ensure nobody was trapped in the structure.

Plaisted said the barn was likely headed for demolition soon anyway. The owner wanted to donate it to the department for a controlled burn for firefighting practice, but Plaisted said before that could happen, workers would have been required to remove the shingles from the roof.

"Looking at it now, that wouldn't have been safe," Plaisted said.

He also recalled a local resident telling him how years ago there was a basketball court on the second floor. From the second floor to the ceiling, it was so high, he said, that nobody could throw a ball from the floor up into the rafters. That's how big the barn was.

In April 2010, I took a photo of the barn (bottom photo in this post) that proved pretty popular. UMMC purchased a large canvas print of the photograph to hang in its new surgical wing (the print has since been moved to another part of the hospital). To view a larger online version (or to purchase a print of the picture, click here).