Discovering the Strand

In which we hear the tale of the hidden theater

When Ringo and Bella grow bored with the TV, I get forced out of my recliner and out onto the local roads and sidewalks.

The Australian Open has been on, and I could happily spend a day watching two or three matches, trotting up and down the stairs for snacks and checking my phone every half an hour in hopes that Donald Trump has decided to flee to Cuba.

But Ringo stands up on the bed after a couple of hours and shakes himself, jumps down to the floor and stretches, while Bella grows quiet and seems to be staring somewhere to the side of the TV.

“Should we go out?” I say.

“Sure,” Bella says, and Ringo struts around, wagging.

We put on our jackets, mittens and hats, and I zip Bella’s phone into her jacket pocket. She doesn’t use it, but it serves as a tracker.

We walk outside to the gate on the fence.

“You can open it,” I say.

“I don’t want him to get out,” Bella says.

“He’s fine. He’ll go right to the car,” I say.

I lift the hatchback on our Honda Fit.

“Go ahead and get in the front, Sweetie,” I say.

“Get in Ringo, come on Ringo,” she says.

“He’s waiting for you,” I say. “When you get in, he’ll get in.”

She doesn’t move.

“Come on, Ringo,” she says.

He looks up at her. She walks to the passenger-side door and opens it. I walk to the driver-side door, and he jumps in. I walk back and close the hatchback while watching his tail.

Often, we drive downtown, park on South Street or in the Elm Street lot and walk a couple of blocks to Kru coffee shop. After the coffee and a plain croissant split three ways, we stroll up Ridge Street, around the library and back to the car.

On Monday, I wanted something different.

“Let’s go to Hudson Falls,” I said.

“Is that what you want to do?” Bella said.

“Yes,” I said.

Hudson Falls is three and a half miles away, and I’ve driven through it scores of times but stopped only now and then. The time I’ve spent in the village over the past 30 years adds up to just a few hours. 

Like Glens Falls, Hudson Falls has a park in its center, surrounded by old stone and brick buildings. A couple of store signs look as if they’ve been in place since the middle of the last century — like the McCann Rexall neon sign (“DRUGS CARDS”) that stands on the sidewalk and the Saluto Lounge sign (“IN REAR”) that hangs from the second floor, with an arrow pointing toward the alleyways in back.

We walked to the Strand Theater, a 1920s-era performance space transmogrified in the 1960s into town offices with drop ceilings and walls that hid its past. The building’s secret was discovered in 2016 by Jonathan Newell, a musician and impresario who, along with a devoted band of community members, runs Hudson River Music Hall Productions, a nonprofit that puts on concerts and other shows.

The reimagining and restoration of the building as a theater and concert hall has been a labor of love for the village, as we were told by a man — Ed Mahan — who came to the front door and ushered us in.

Ed Mahan, a volunteer for Hudson River Music Hall Productions, which operates the Strand Theatre in Hudson Falls, stands near the theater’s entrance.

“Is the dog OK?” I said.

“He’s very friendly,” Bella said. “He’s very good.”

“Yes,” said Ed.

He showed us around the lobby and brought us into the hall, which, with its broad, curving balcony, can seat 340 people.

He rattled off performers who have played at the Strand, how much they loved it and how many people came to watch.

“We’re getting to be north of Albany the place to be,” he said.

We took a schedule and said goodbye and walked back through the slush to our car. I opened the back for Ringo.

“You get in the front, and he’ll jump in,” I said to Bella.

“Come on Ringo, come on my sweetie,” she said.

Lovely trees

I am often struck, walking around Glens Falls, by the variety and loveliness of the trees. I can’t identify them — even when I learn the names of trees and flowers and birds, I quickly forget them. But I do appreciate them. 

This tree with red fruit stands along the edge of the Elm Street parking lot, near the back entrance to the Bullpen Tavern.

This tree stands at the corner of Ridge and Maple streets, on the lawn next to Morgan & Co. restaurant.

Cold sledding

We took Ringo for a walk in Crandall Park on a recent afternoon during the cold snap, when the temperature was in the single digits. A crowd was out for sledding anyway.

It was cold, but that’s when the sledding is best.