Clermont State Historic Site

Thursday October 17, 1968

Rex McVitty

Here at Sylvan Cottage by the Hudson River in New York, in the fall of the year my thought turn to self-protection. There are two enourmous black walnut trees, one on each side of the path from our porch to the drive and at this time of the year, the nuts are falling.

My wife goes around with a cardboard carton on her head, kept in place by a ribbon around her chin. Me? I often forget and although I haven’t been stunned yet, I have had many near misses.

I had thought of procuring an Army surplus steel helmet to wear when getting from the car to the house but not have yet done so.

Down at Clermont, on the south side, there is even a larger black walnut tree. This one towers over 170 feet and a nut from that one would have the velocity of a bullet. I warn guests who have been taken through the house on a tour to avoid going around the south side of the house since concussion surely would spoil their trip to Livingston Manor.

All this makes me reflect, “What a really dangerous place our modern world is.” Look how many people are hurt right in their own houses, slipping in bath tubs, skidding on the lineoleum. Why, all the people I know who are at this moment who are going around with some limb in a paster [sic] cast broke their bones in their own homes, all except one and she broke a leg outside her church.

Just think of all the dreadful things that can happen before you even leave what you consider the safety of your home. It could be struck by lightning, burn to the ground or the homeowner could sustain a severe electric shock fooling around with appliances. Why a few years ago, I lost the top of my index finger and I didn’t have to go any farther than the electric water pump to do that particular disservice to myself.

Get in your car for either business or pleasure and, by Jove, you really are taking a chance. Besides the possibility of being ushered violently into the next world, the signs along the highway should give you a chance to do some thinking. “Slow down-DANGER.” “Watch out for falling rocks?” “Steep hill aahead, go in thrid gear.” “Slippery when wet.” “Bridge unsafe.” “Detour.” I tell you, there are possibilities for disaster no matter where you go.

The wild mushroom season has just ended and my family and I have feasted on them right royally but to the uninitiated… “beware!” The deadly aminita or destroying angel may be lurking among the meadow mushrooms.

If the flora does not get you, the fauna will. I read in a magazine, “Never feed bears that come over to your car for a handout. They may continue feeding right up to your elbow.” I remember now feeding a squirrel a few winters ago right in Myakka State Park and the little bleeder was either terribly hungry or it couldn’t distinguish between the morsel of food and my finger. Bit me right proper, it did.

The same article commenting on spiders as menace, casually mentions tarantulas and black widows which pack considerable poison. It says that you can always recognize a black widow spider by picking one up in your fingers and turning it over to see whether or not it has an hour glass mark on its body. Whew!

I was well on with my own tale when I read this article and so as it is well to profit by other people’s wisdom. I learned that if you live in the country, you should familiarize yourself with such lethal plants as poison ivy, poison sumac and poison oak. In case there is doubt, rub some of the leaves on your wrist and see if it raises a blister.

Poison toadstools can be readily identified by serving other members of your camping party… first?

These are just a few of the perils that kindly Mother Nature has in store for her unlearned ones. Wouldn’t it be better to say [sic] in bed, or if it thundering, stay under the bed?