Tag Archives: Living History
Jonathan Kruk, The Sleepy Hollow Storyteller
Sleepy Hollow, Tarrytown, Westchester County, New York
To view more photos or order prints from Philipsburg Manor, Sleepy Hollow and Tarrytown, click here
About a year or so ago I get a message on my voice mail by a guy calling himself “The Sleepy Hollow Storyteller,” who says in essence he’s doing a book on how the Headless Horseman lost his head, and would I let him use some of my photos in his book? “The Sleepy Hollow Storyteller” I muttered to myself. “Sure he is, and I’m the Easter Bunny.”
I looked the fellow, Jonathan Kruk up online, and sure enough, he is the Sleepy Hollow Storyteller. And every so often for the next few months, we’d wander around the Hudson Valley, looking for sites associated with legends, him recounting the tale, me scrambling up cliffs, down into the Bronx River and other locations, trying to get the shots.
The first time I got a hint of his storytelling prowess was when I brought my little boy, Teelin along with us. Like most eight year olds, he’s hard to shut up. But he sat spellbound, listening to Jonathan. And ever since, I’ve been doomed to try to repeat Jonathan’s feats, never measuring up.
Then last October, Jonathan got me into Legends Weekend at Philipsburg Manor to take photos. It was a bit of a moist night as I wandered in before the crowd, and by the time people started trickling in, it was pouring. I figured that was it, but when they say “rain or shine” in Sleepy Hollow, they mean it. Surprisingly, people did show up, and Jonathan gathered them around and launched into the tale of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Within a few minutes there were a hundred people or so, standing in the pouring rain, watching him perform the tale with unbridled energy. And they stood there till the end.
After they left, he took a drink of water, gathered another crowd and began the routine again. I lost count of how many times he performed the tale that evening, which eventually ended in a deluge so fierce they did have to shut it down. But I learned two things that night.
First, is the power of storytelling hasn’t been diminished over time. And second, Jonathan truly is The Sleepy Hollow Storyteller.
How do you put a price on a story well-told? How do you compensate a person for the smiles he puts on children’s faces, on the faces of adults, for stimulating the imagination in a way which is all but lost today? It takes strength to continue to live this tradition, day in and day out. It’s a sacrifice, and everyone who gets the chance to be in the audience is all the better for it.
Those interested in Jonathan’s work could do no better than to visit his website, www.jonathankruk.net , where you can see his schedule and buy the cds (plenty of fun and a much better babysitter than the tv). He also performs as part of the Hudson River Ramblers, who can be found here.
The Guest Bedroom at Washington Irving’s Sunnyside
Guest Bedroom, Sunnyside, Irvington, Tarrytown, Westchester County, New York
It’s long been a dream of mine to photograph the inside of Washington Irving’s home on the banks of the Hudson River, Sunnyside. I had the opportunity last week, and have to give many thanks to Historic Hudson Valley for giving me the chance, and to Anthony Pellegrino for showing me around.
Now Sunnyside has a reputation of being haunted, particularly by the spirit of Irving himself, who has been known to pinch female visitors on the bottom. I also knew that at various times his nieces, who lived there with him have been spotted. And Anthony and I discussed this as we did our initial walk-through in the house.
I was taking this shot in the guest bedroom, and Anthony had gone off to another room to check on something, and as I was peering through the viewfinder I heard the shuffling of feet and a soft giggle. I thought this must have been Anthony, though I almost instantly heard him moving around downstairs, and was sure that the laughter was more feminine.
But the imagination plays tricks on us, and I chalked it down to that. Or to be more precise, many things happen which cannot be explained, and happen so quickly that we’re never sure if they really happened, or if we saw or heard what we thought we did.
A few weeks back I was shooting in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, just down the road a few miles from Sunnyside, once again peering through the lens. In the instant I lowered the camera, I was sure I saw someone in what appeared to be brightly colored clothing of an earlier time rushing towards me. The effect was so realistic that I literally jumped back, only to find nothing there.
Was something truly there? Who can say, certainly not me. Did I hear something in that bedroom at Sunnyside? Can’t say. I never even saw fit to tell Anthony, because what proof was there?
Later that afternoon, I met storyteller Jonathan Kruk at a diner, and we were discussing the various ghost stories associated with Sunnyside. I mentioned Irving and his pinching, and he mentioned the sightings of his nieces, as well as those who have heard them laughing throughout the house.
Well at least it was a friendly sounding laugh, as befits the tales of happiness associated with Sunnyside.
Sunset over the Hudson at Peekskill
Hudson River Sunset, Riverfront Green Park, Peekskill, Westchester County, New York
To view more photos or order prints from the historic Hudson Valley, click here
Henry Hudson, the explorer who brought Europeans the Hudson River, called it the river of mountains. And a trip through the Hudson highlands can be a magical experience. Perhaps it’s from exposure to Washington Irving as children that we equate this area with the supernatural, but this doesn’t explain the presence of such mysteries and myths from before Irving’s time. Perhaps it’s the mountains themselves which holds the mood in, and keeps it from escaping as it flows along with the river through the land.
Sunset over the Hudson River
The Hudson Highlands from Scarborough Park, Westchester County, New York
To view more photos or order prints from The Hudson River Valley, click here
There are few places as evocative as the Hudson River Valley. The Hudson is a mighty river, a rival to the Mississippi in width and power, with amazing highlands that stretch along its banks. I found myself late one afternoon atop the hill in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, noticing the sun was almost gone, and remembered that I wanted a shot of the sunset over the river. My original plan was to drive up to the overlook on Bear Mountain, but it seems I’m forever tarrying in Sleepy Hollow. So as I raced up Route 9, I remembered the tiny park along the river in the village of Scarborough, and found myself wending my way to it. The wind was fierce that day, and the waves were nearly crashing against the stones of the shore, but I managed to snap a few shots before racing back to the car to warm my freezing fingers. I was fiddling with my phone, probably trying to set the GPS, without which I could never find my way through New York City to my home on Long Island, when I happened to glance up and notice the sky appeared to be on fire. Grabbing my camera, I dashed from the car, scrambled up the bank and managed to grab a half dozen shots before the fire in the sky burned away as quickly as it had come, leaving the night rising to meet the fading light.
