There are many reasons to love the Adirondacks. The breathtaking scenery. The changing seasons. The endless opportunities for area sportsmen.
If I had to narrow it to one, though, it would without question be the people that call it home.
After I was near mortally wounded in the throat by a wayward bullet in 1993, the cards, flowers and mementos that flooded my hospital room were a stark reminder of the character of the people here.
People Id never met took the time to write words of encouragement. Letters and cards poured in. They filled two large cardboard boxes when I was finally healthy enough to leave for home.
Id sit and peruse them on days when I thought like giving up. When the pain seemed endless and my future uncertain. That is the power of a simple act of kindness.
I see it all the time.
Just a few weeks ago I wrote a column about my affection for venison. I talked about being out (I got my fair share last season, but Ill eat a pound or two a night when I have it). Once again, my fellow Adirondackers came to my rescue.
A received half a dozen kind offers from friends, from family ... from folks Id had never even met.
Yesterday Vicki Porter of Elizabethtown stopped by my office and dropped off a bag full of venison compliments of her husband Scott. Ill now have plenty to take me through bow season and will eat well tonight.
The power of kindness. Thanks guys.
Monsters of the depths
I received an e-mail from Pat Fiust of Willsboro who shared a photo taken by her husband 25 years ago. She asked if I could identify the fish in the photograph - which I am nearly certain are lake sturgeon.