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159 without her. Friday March 23. 1880 Came down with the early train yesterday and went immediately to the Academy. The Robins and blue birds were singing on the hill when I left although it was very cold. [[newspaper clipping]] MR. JAMES S. McENTEE. THE 80TH ANNIVERSARY OF HIS BIRTH. The Man Who Named Rondout and the Oldest Housekeeper and Longest Time R sident of the Same-His Connection With Various Public Works. Mr. James S. McEntee will reach the eightieth anniversary of his birth to-morrow, having been born in Western, Oneida county, on March 21, 1800. He is the last of a family of five sons and one daughter whose parents died in August, 1808, at Salina, in this state, within eleven days of each other. In 1819 Mr. McEntee joined a party of engineers, then laying out the line of the Erie Canal, as an axman and in November of that year joined Judge Bates' party of engineers to explore the country between Syracuse and Oswego in reference to the Oswego canal, as chainman, and in three days after joining the party he was rod-man. In 1820 he joined Mr. John B. Jervis' party of Erie Canal engineers as Rodman and was engaged on the middle section of that work, extending from Utica to Montezuma. In July, 1823 Mr. McEntee joined a party of engineers under Canvass White, the man who first discovered cement in this state, on the Union canal in Pennsylvania, where he remained about eight months, rejoining Mr. Jervis' party on the Erie, where he remained until June, 1825, when he joined Mr. Jervis on the Delaware & Hudson canal survey, the last-named gentleman having commenced work on the Delaware & Hudson in March of that year. Mr. McEntee commenced work on the Summit, arranging the line of the canal and staking it out as it was placed under contract toward tide-water, after which he was appointed resident engineer of the work from tide-water. In 1827 he was made resident engineer of the work from tide-water to Port Jervis and also bad charge of the construction of the docks for the company at Rondout, remaining in such a position until 1830 when he resigned and took a contract for mining coal for the company at Carbondale,and he mined the first coal ever mined in Lackawanna Valley, the coal previous to that time having been obtained by simply uncovering it. While engaged in mining at Carbondale Mr. McEntee continued his residence at Rondout and when the meeting was held to change the name of the village from Bolton (after the first president of the Delaware & Hudson Canal Company) he was the one who proposed the name of Rondout. In 1837 Mr. McEntee constructed for the United States government the first lighthouse on the dock on which it stood at the mouth of the Rondout creek. In 1839 a freshet caused the ice to undermine the dock and the lighthouse settled, so it was taken down, when Mr. McEntee rebuilt the dock and a new lighthouse was placed on it. In 1838 Mr. McEntee constructed the docks for the Saugerties Creek and Esopus Meadows lighthouses. In 1845 the Island dock was commenced for the Delaware & Hudson Canal Company, Mr. McEntee being the contractor, and the work was completed in 1846. In 1847 Mr. McEntee, with two other contractors, Messrs. Eggleston and McDonald of Albany, contracted with the Hudson River Railroad Company to construct the section of the work from the upper end of Peekskill docks to the tunnel below Cruger's station, and the section from Tarrytown to Irvington. The section from Fishkill two miles north was also contracted for by this firm, but owing to a change in the Chief Engineer's plans when the work was about half completed it was abandoned by the contractors according to the terms of the contract. In 1848 Mr. McEntee constructed the dock at Cold Spring for the West Point Foundry. In 1850-'51 the plank roads from Kingston to Rondout and Wilbur were constructed Mr. McEntee having charge of the work. in 1853 the officers in charge of the United States Military Academy at West Point sent for Mr. McEntee to examine the plans and specifications for a dock to be constructed on the government grounds for a steamboat wharf, a short distance north of the present one, and Mr. McEntee built the dock. For years during the administration of the affairs of the Delaware & Hudson Canal Company by John and Maurice Wurts, Mr. McEntee was a consulting engineer for the company and made a survey of the canal from Hawley to tide-water after the enlargement, and which survey had much to do with the decision of the great suit between the Delaware & Hudson Company and the Pennsylvania Company, and in which suit Mr. McEntee was a prominent witness. In the spring of 1865 Mr. McEntee made a survey for a railroad from Rondout to Ellenville, up the valley of the Rondout, and in the autumn of the same year he commenced a survey for a railroad form tide-water to Collyersville on the Susquehanna river, including the route via the valley of the Rondout to Pine Hill; via Stony Hollow, Pine Hill and Delhi; via Phoenicia and Prattsville and other routes, which surveys were preparatory to the construction of what is now called the Ulster & Delaware Railroad. Mr. McEntee is the oldest housekeeper in Rondout and the longest time resident with the exception of Mr. Jansen Hasbrouck, who was born here. Two years since Mr. and Mrs. McEntee celebrated their golden wedding and from present indications bid fair to live to celebrate their diamond wedding. Mr. McEntee's favorite pastime is a twelve or fourteen miles ride on about the hardest trotting horse to be found in Ulster county. Dreams and Retrospection When we were young, full many years ago, (How many, 'twere a thankless tale to tell,) When youth's impetuous blood was all aglow With impulse warm, how on our vision fell Bright pictures-drawn in lines of radiant light, With scarce a shadow o'er the glowing scene- Of golden years to come, whose harvests bright Should crown life's evening-time with joy serene The joy and crown of battles fought and won; Great ends attain'd; high purposes fulfill'd; Life's noblest task accomplish'd as begun, In all the ardor youth and hope instill'd Oh, how we dreamed, in wakeful rhapsody! Interpreting our dreams, with childish lore, To mean whatever we hoped or wish'd to be; Not doubting life held all in ample store. Ah, blessed dreams! nor false, nor true, In all the shining shapes their light display'd , Yet, sweetly false, in that they did imbue Our souls with hope to win what they portray'd; And largely true, in that their visions show'd, Not what the measure of our lives should be, But broader, greener fields, whose promise glow' With life's sublimest possibility. The witching dream is past; for us, no more Prophetic visions gild life's future way; While sober retrospections linger o'er The weary journey of the waning day. We trace our footsteps o'er the shining sands Of childish confidence and childlike trust, And mark the spot where each fond ruin stands Of hope's bright castles crumbling into dust. We pause, with sad reluctant hands, to rear A monument o'er dead ambition's grave; We heave a sigh, and drop, perchance, a tear O'er cherished wrecks, nor sigh, nor tear can save We catch the echoes of remember'd songs, Once sung by voices heard by us no more, And feel the sting of unforgotten wrongs Whose scars remain, tho' time hath heal'd the so But keener far than pang of wrongs endur'd, The sense of wrongs inflicted, like a chain Whose ceaseless rankling never can be cured, Abides within the soul-a constant pain. As mem'ry swiftly wings her backward flight, In eager quest of youth's receding scenes, How deep the shadows that obscure her sight ! How oft oblivious darkness intervenes ! Fair forms and faces, now but dimly seen, Like views dissolving on life's magic page, And gladsome voices, mirthful, or serene-- In youth's clear tones, or tremulous with age-- Once hail'd our presence in each hallow'd spot, And bade us welcome with such loving grace Their smiles and tones can ever be forgot While memory shall hold her wonted place. To-day, unheralded, the footstep falls Along the beaten track of distant years, And dying echoes in deserted halls The only welcome that salutes our ears. Here, lies a withered Rose, defaced and dead In all save that its beauty symbolized ; And there, a Lily hides its fated head In sacred dust, by its own tears baptized; And many a tree, whose loving arms were spread To shade and shield us from the sun and storm, To-day lies prostrate in its lowly bed, Or stands, the spectre of its once fair form. Beneath the shadows of our dearest graves, By dying embers of exhausted fires, We list the murmur of oblivion's waves And bid adieu to unfulfill'd desires. [[/newspaper clipping]]
