Todd Atteberry: Portrait and event photography in southern Illinois and Evansville, Indiana

Let me say upfront, that I've attended very few of the special events at Old Bethpage Village Restoration, never been to the Long Island Fair, never seen an old time baseball game there, and have no real desire too. I go to Old Bethpage several times a year, and try my best to avoid these events.

For to me, the best times to visit Bethpage Restoration are the quiet days - rainy days, cold days, the last couple of hours before they close for the night.

There's a somewhat cheesy movie starring Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour - Somewhere In Time, where Reeve goes back in time to meet his love. Which he accomplishes quite effectively, until in his pocket he finds a modern-day penny, remembers himself and where he comes from and instantly finds himself back in the twentieth century.

Bethpage Restoration Village is a lot like that. When the tourists are gone for the day, or unwilling to brave the elements, it's just you and the past. You're surrounded by the sights, the sounds and the smells of early America. Old Bethpage differs from reenactment circles and many other living history events, by being a permanent settlement. It's hard to get the look, the feel and the all important smells of history right in just a couple weeks or a couple of weekends.

Old Bethpage Village Restoration also differs from places like Colonial Williamsburg, in that it lacks the Disneyesque qualities of that restoration. They don't focus on moments in time, but instead focus on time itself, or more appropriately, the peeling back of the layers until you're left with day to day life. You'll see the boredom, the drudgery, the hard work, as well as the joy, the celebrations and the stages of life. What you won't see is General Washington riding up on a horse to the cheers of the gathered crowd.

How Old Bethpage Village Restoration came to be

In 1963, Nassau County on Long Island, New York purchased the historic Powell farm, 165 acres on the Nassau/Suffolk border. The Powells had been one of the earliest settlers in the area, and as many historic structures on Long Island were being lost to development, the idea was to move endangered buildings to this site. The concept was to build a village which reflected the early Dutch and English roots of the island, from its settlement around 1640 onwards. Originally called town spots, many of today's town's and villages across the island once consisted of what Bethpage village aspires to be now - a small gathering of houses and businesses, which would service the area. Each townsman received a lot for building and had access to the outlying area for farming, grazing of livestock and harvesting of wood.

The first building moved to the park was Manetto Hill Methodist Church, which is appropriate considering the Powell's connection to the Manetto Hill area. Over time, over 50 structures have been brought to the property, with 20 open to the public, on the ground which have expanded to over 200 acres. Each building is chosen for architectural or historic relevance, and its history studied to determine the best period to restore it to.

Reflecting the areas original Dutch character, one of the most important structures at Old Bethpage Village Restoration is the Schenck house, which dates from about 1730. Among the oldest surviving Dutch farm houses in the country, it's an opportunity to see a method of house construction long ago lost when the English took over the colony. The gabled roof with flared eaves, round shingles, huge firehouse and built-in bed stands as a testament to a chapter in our history which is too often forgotten. The Schenck house originally stood in what is now Manhasset, and was occupied by Minne Schenck, his three daughters and son.

The people of the restoration village

One of the wisest things the administrators of Old Bethpage Village Restoration has done, is that they've tried to keep some of the same people in the same places over time. As such not only do they have a chance to learn and absorb the history and skills of the places they inhabit, but you start to associate the two together. The weaver's face belongs in her spot in the Powell farmhouse, the dressmaker in the William's house and the hatmaker in his hat shop. Of course in those cases and many others, it's the skills they possess that tie them to those particular places. In others, particularly with the young people who work at Old Bethpage, these skills are learned on the job. Many start as volunteers at an early age, and as they learn their trade, come back year after year, honing their skills and their knowledge, which they are eager to share with you.

I had been going to the village restoration for several years before the people there started recognizing my face, which is understandable as tens of thousands of people tour the restoration every year. Which is another advantage of going often, and when there are few people. You can let the people drop their prepared speeches and tours of the buildings, and talk to them about the life. When it stops being a tour, and becomes an interactive experience, it begins to feel like visiting people in their homes. And how many places can you step into a 19th century schoolhouse and have a conversation with the teacher? Or visit a 19th century farmhouse to see what's cooking over the hearth today, ask about the recipe and the ingredients?

I'm constantly amazed, coming from the rural midwest, by the novelty Long Islanders have over seeing farm animals. And that's one time when the other visitors don't distract from the experience quite so much. There's nothing much more fun that to watch children who are seeing their first cow, pig or sheep. All the emotions that these little people go through, from awe, to fear when the animals get frisky or too close, to the look of horror when they hear that the cow they are looking at is the source of their cheeseburgers or the chickens their chicken strips. And it's not just the children. I admit to having seen adults mistake cows for horses from time to time. It's at times like these, that one can truly see the value of Old Bethpage as a place of learning.

They get the details right

Once you've been in the houses at Old Bethpage Village Restoration a number of times, you get to noticing the details. The wash basins, soap, wicker brushes for washing dishes. Early American padlocks. Door hinges. The brooms. A wooden flute on the parlor table. Someone's clothes laid out on the bed. The seamstress' shears hanging on a nail on the wall with a bit of cloth.

In most cases, the furniture for the houses and buildings aren't original to the location. But great care has been taken to find replacements from the years that the buildings are restored to. Nothing is jarring or out of place. The village fits together, the buildings, the furnishings, the people and the landscape like the weave of a basket. This despite the fact that the structures cover roughly a 200 year period, centered on the mid 19th century, and come from all over Long Island.

Like any village, Old Bethpage has its shares of elegant ruins. One could imagine living here as a child, and the stories that would grow up around these dilapidated structures - which in reality are buildings awaiting reconstruction. The tales of witches who lived in them, ghosts that haunt them - all the stories that make childhood mysterious and rich are awaiting invention.

The ghosts of Old Bethpage Village

And of course the restoration village has plenty of ghost stories of its own. A family spending the night in Lewis Ritch's 19th century farmhouse reported hearing heavy boots walking about the porch during the night, which they presumed to be the former master of the house, who died in 1835 coming back to his home, which he once shared on Middle Island with his wife Charity and their six children.

In the Conklin house, a fisherman's cottage which once stood in Village of the Branch and now lives again at Old Bethpage, a woman has been reportedly seen upstairs in period dress, and who was decidedly not a 20th century interpreter. Another interpreter who has worked at the village for over 20 years refuses to set foot in the house. Still another I spoke to talked of being alone in the house reading, when over the top of his book saw a dark shape rushing towards him, only to look up and see nothing there. On another occasion he heard a loud bang, as though a shelf had fallen in the other room, only to find nothing amiss.

The Conklin house once set next to the inn owned by Thomas Hallock, and is one of the newer structures on the site. Walt Whitman is rumored to be one of the earliest tenants, and the house is typical of an English derivative style, with Greek Revival touches. Joseph H. Conklin, married to Thankful Hallock, Thomas' niece bought the place in 1853. According to Long Island Oddities, the place is reputed to also be haunted by a small boy, afflicted by disability or deformity, who showed up in a census for one year and never again, and was supposed to have been shut away in the house.

The Hewlett House, now restored to 1840, was built during the 1890s in Woodbury, an example of Federal Period architecture. The house displays a gambrel roof, a milk room and large, beehive oven with an inscription of 1796. It also appears to be haunted.

The House was inhabited by the Hewlett Family, including a descendent of the original owners, Lewis Hewlett, who presumably carved his initials into the ceiling above the fireplace. What makes this unusual, is that for some time no one noticed the carving. Then one afternoon, a worker was leaning over the fireplace when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Upon turning around, she found nobody there. This was the first day that the initials were noticed.

There is a tapestry on one of the walls of the house, done by a child learning to embroider, which refers to being buried, rotting bones and their desire not to be forgotten. And appropriately enough, in the parlor one finds a coffin, lain out for a wake, which presents a unique opportunity to see how a family remembered and sent off their dead in the 19th century.

Another visitor reported feeling pulled towards the staircase every time she entered the Hewlett House, which she described as a strong desire to go upstairs, which she finally did, only to report seeing a noose hanging from the top of the stairwell. Another woman felt as if she was being pushed down the stairs, and reportedly the two women decided to hold a seance, at which they contacted Lewis Hewlett who stated that it was he who was hanging from the stairwell.

Security guards tell of one of their own, who heard the voices of men in the basement, and thinking they were intruders made for the door. Unfortunately, the door to the place locks from the outside, and the door had closed and the hapless man found himself locked in. So frightened was he that he went out the window rather than wait for help to arrive.

The Noon Inn is one of the most popular stops, if Old Bethpage photos found on the internet are any indication. It was originally purpose built in East Meadow to be an inn and bar, before being closed down, when it was used for storage. Kids would break into the place and vagrants reportedly used to sleep in there. One such vagrant, according to popular legend which has been discredited by a fellow whose family formerly owned the home, was surprised by three teenagers whom he stabbed to death. The bodies lay undetected for some time, until a security guard found them, and a short time later, according to the story, the vagrant was arrested with some of their possessions, and confessed to the crime. As such with all urban legends, the place took on the reputation of being haunted, and the same night that the vagrant was supposed to have hung himself in his cell, a girl walking down the street outside the Noon Inn saw the three boys' faces in the windows. It's stories like this which as I said, appears to have no basis in fact, that add to the richness of a place. And Old Bethpage is fortunate to have brought along the legends, along with the structures which now line the streets of Old Bethpage Village.

The Williams House, restored to 1860, was once home to a certain Henry Williams, farmer and carpenter, and stood in New Hyde Park. A seamstress named Esther once lived there as well. Reports of poltergeist activity abounds in the Williams House. Trunks have been heard moving about upstairs, and upon investigation are found with their contents strewn about.

One hot afternoon, two interpreters were working the Williams House, and opened a window to let in the breeze, which is often quite nice there. They went back to their sewing, which is their charge at Old Bethpage, when they heard the window slam shut. One opened it again, this time propping it up with a stick, which is typically used to lock the windows, by jamming it into the top of the window. They left the room, only to hear the window shut again. Coming back into the room, they found the stick lain on the sewing table. A third time they opened the window, once again propped it open and once again left the room. The window slammed closed again, and this time the stick was found far from the house in the garden, by a child visiting the park. In the Williams house, the workers are on a first name basis with Esther.

On another occasion, two workers were cleaning up in the house. One picked up a small teacup, used originally as part of a toy tea set, when she head a small voice telling her to "Put my teacup down."

Thanksgiving is a wonderful time at the Williams House. Turkey is roasted in the hearth, and the sights, sounds and smells of a Thanksgiving feast brings the house to life. During the preparations one year, the door to the place kept closing. Even on a November Day on Long Island, so much cooking and activity can quickly overheat a house, so one of the women there propped the door open with a fireplace tool, only to be hit in the head by the same tool when she went back to her work.

The spirits it seems at Old Bethpage Village Restoration don't mind visitors, but they are very fussy about their homes, even to this day.

Photography at Old Bethpage Village Restoration

Of course one of the reasons I started visiting was to take Old Bethpage village photos. After all, how often do you get a chance to take photos of the past? But Bethpage Restoration village photos don't tell the whole story. They don't show the heat of an August without air-conditioning, or the cold of November. They don't capture the sounds of cooking over the hearth, the smells or the heat of a small room with a blazing fire and heated metal. Old Bethpage photos capture the surface, and it's always been my goal to get beneath that.

The workers obligingly pose for photos, but I've always found the best photos of Old Bethpage Village Restoration are those where they don't know you're there. The blacksmith is best captured at his forge without the pressure of lenses upon him, the spinner best seen at her wheel not anticipating the click of the camera. Some pose easily, some pose for photos through gritted teeth, some turn their heads away when they see you raise the camera. But when you're careful and quiet, sometimes magic can happen.

Back in time to the future

What will the future have in store for Old Bethpage Village Restoration? Rumors were swirling in the winter and spring of 2009 that the village restoration would get the axe due to budget shortfalls, a situation which isn't likely to change soon. Will a trust spring up to fund and oversee the village? Many oppose this solution and with good reason. It's unlikely that it could be privately run, and that too isn't a good option. Private living history parks, as well as those run by trusts tend to fall into the Disney trap over time, where history and accuracy gets pushed aside in favor of commercial aspects.

I'm sure there are many who could see the commercial appeal of being able to spend the night in one of the houses there, in a historically accurate manner, if arrangements could be made to open them to the public. But one also worries that this would be something only available to the elite, who would quite likely be the last class of people wishing to spend the night in the 19th century. A restaurant would also be a nice touch, with authentic Long Island cooking of the period. Or a tavern which operated as a real tavern.

What Bethpage Restoration Village could use most is more life. More people in period dress, horses, carriages, wagons, noise. As it is now, it's a village that appears, because of lack of funding, to be dying away. Not in the sense that its closure is imminent, but a village has more diversity of activity. More hustle and bustle, aside from the tourists strolling up and down the streets.

But then again, perhaps it's best left the way it is. The beauty of the Old Bethpage Village Restoration is its ability to spark the imagination. And to time travel, perhaps one needs quiet. Maybe the holes in the fabric of time there are necessary to allow our imaginations space enough to fill them in.