County’s pheasant bounty; voter registration record; teacher job action
From the archives: Nov. 7, 2024
From the archives: Nov. 7, 2024
The following excerpts from The Millerton News were compiled by Kathleen Spahn, Vivian Sukenik, Nancy Vialpando and Rhiannon Leo-Jameson of the North East-Millerton Library.
November 2, 1933
‘Pheasant Season Opens with Bang’; The pheasant season opened literally with a bang, followed by many more bangs at daybreak on Monday morning when scores of khaki clad hunters began their annual invasion of the area populated by the now much pursued feathered denizens. The fusillade is to continue for six days, ending at sunset Saturday night. The pheasants, on whom open warfare was declared without so much as a warning, were in a general retreat within a few minutes after the bombardment began Monday morning, many of the feathered gentry falling before well aimed hunters’ bullets.
With the opening of the season on pheasants Monday, the hunting season is now in full swing. Dutchess County is experiencing one of the best hunting seasons in many years with game more plentiful. Because of private breeders and game clubs, pheasants are more abundant throughout the county than ordinarily.
‘Registration in Dutchess Sets Record’; Exceeds Total Number of Eligible Voters for 1932, Previous High Mark
Dutchess County has established an all time registration record this year with 1,919 more persons eligible to vote Nov. 1 than in 1932, which was the greatest previous registration . The records of the commissioners of electron disclosed that 57,026 registered for the presidential election last year, while this year the total registration for the county is 58,965.
Although an “off;” or local year, the total registration this year exceeds by 4,453 the 1928 registration when the Smith-Hoover campaign stirred up considerable political activity in the county. In that year, the city of Poughkeepsie set an all-time record of 18,000 voters.
When personal and non-personal registration ended Oct. 21, a check-up disclosed that both Poughkeepsie and Beacon dropped a trifle below their 1932 registrations, with only seven out of twenty-four election districts exceeding last year’s mark, while only two districts in Beacon surpassed the 1932 registration. Forty-one of the remaining fifty-five election districts in the county, all of which are located in townships, have increased registration totals. SOme townships and districts reported several hundred new voters having been added to the enrollment…
The town of North East has a registration of 866 in the first district and 751 in the second this year, representing a total increase of 132 over 1932. The town of Amenia has a registration increase of 253 this year, and the town of Dover has an increase of 198 registered voters over last year for the election on Nov. 7…
‘Dutchess Celebrates Birthday’; Anniversary Observed by Historical Society Wednesday; Fitting Pragram [sic]
The 250th birthday of Dutchess County was observed yesterday with a fitting program arranged by the Dutchess County Historical Society. A meeting at the county court house in the morning and a luncheon at the Nelson House at noon comprised the formal observance.
Originally The Duchess’ County, the County continues to spell its name with a “t” at the age of 250, although the letter does not really belong in the name. The county was named after Mary Beatrice d’Este of Modena, and was one of the original counties of the Province of New York. It was almost exclusively settled by Indains, and there were not more than three or four white people dwelling within its boundaries by 1700.
The Duchess for whom the county was named was Italian by birth, daughter of the Duke of Modena and second wife of James Stuart of England from 1685 until her husband as from 1673 till 1685 and Queen of England from 1685 until her husband as James II, was deposed in 1688 and fled into exile. Mary Beatruce’s life was eventful and tragic. She was married at fifteen to a man thirty years older than herself, lived in an alien county and was involved in turbulent political and religious disturbances, finally fleeing into exile with her baby son.
November 7, 1974
‘Webutuck Teachers Cut Extracurricular Activities’; Webutuck teachers pressed their job action one step further this week calling for a stoppage of “all non paying extracurricular activities and all voluntary duties until a new contract is negotiated.”
The Webutuck Teachers Association also stated that effective Monday this week, high school teachers would leave the school building at 3:45 p.m. and primary school teachers would leave at 3:30 p.m.
In a letter sent to Webutuck school administrators from the teachers association, the association stated: “you are fully aware of the present situation of the Webutuck Teachers Association in regard to their lack of current contract.
“At this time we find that we are being forced to adhere to the existing binding contractual agreement. According to the agreement, the teachers shall leave school every day at 3:45 from the high school building, and 3:30 from the elementary and primary school.
“At this time we also are stopping all nonpaying [sic] extracurricular activities and all voluntary duties until a new contract is negotiated.”
Kiau Loi, chairman of the teachers association negotiation committee, stated that the boycott is on activities not in the old teachers’ contract, which expired this past June 30, 1973. These include such activities as teachers participating in dances,
‘Halloween No Longer Fun’; (Letter from the Editor)
Halloween is longer fun. The merry pranksters have disappeared and abusive, irresponsible vandals have taken over.
In Millerton well over $3000 [sic] damage [sic] was done to five different stores and a fire was set. B-B guns and wrist rockets with steel marbles were the weapons used by the brash infiltrators.
Although these metal pellets penetrated only one section of the large display windows at Delson’s, the Village Toggery, J.B. Reed’s and Barnard’s Florists, the entire window must be replaced. In freezing weather the relatively small hole and air pressure will force the whole window to crack.
Although the fire on John Street was minor, the fire company had to be on the scene and thus its attention was directed away from any other possible emergency.
In another incident a man guarding a store was forced to dodge B-B pellets. A friendly jest is one thing, but physical abuse is another. It was also reported that apples were thrown through windows of village residences.
Shaving cream, soap, and tissue paper are harmless tools that allow kids to break the rules innocently one night a year. But heavy artillery is not amusing and no one should be proud of committing crimes like vandalism, arson or assault.
Millerton thought it would do a favor for the revellers and set the curfew for 9 p.m. on Halloween, Armenia had a 7 p.m. curfew and no trouble. Next year Millerton will know better.
November 4, 1999
‘Wind Whammy’; High gusts of wind brought down this enormous tree branch into the front yard of Basil and Maha Gabriel on Highland Street Tuesday. Mr. Gabriel’s Chevy Blazer was seriously damaged, but no one was hurt. Mrs. Gabriel and her son Matthew were at home at the time. Neighbor Mary Ann Sullivan saw the huge limb come crashing down. It took out electrical, phone and cable service for the Gabriels. The family praised both the Millerton Fire Department for guarding the live wires and Central Hudson for its help.
Millerton News
Liane McGhee, a woman defined by her strength of will, generosity, and unwavering devotion to her family, passed away leaving a legacy of love and cherished memories.
Born Liane Victoria Conklin on May 27, 1957, in Sharon, CT, she grew up on Fish Street in Millerton, a place that remained close to her heart throughout her life. A proud graduate of the Webutuck High School Class of 1975, Liane soon began the most significant chapter of her life when she married Bill McGhee on August 7, 1976. Together, they built a life centered on family and shared values.
Liane was a woman of many passions. She found peace in the outdoors, whether she was taking scenic country rides, fishing, or walking her dog. An avid reader and a talented painter, she possessed a creative spirit and a caring heart that extended to all animals. Above all, Liane was most at home when surrounded by her family.
Liane is survived by her devoted husband of nearly 50 years, Bill McGhee. Her legacy continues through her three children: Joshua (Tanya) McGhee, Justin McGhee, and Jaclyn (Joe) Perusse. She was the proud grandmother of Connor, Calia, and Kennedy McGhee, as well as Lillian and Tillman Perusse. She is also survived by her siblings, Larry Conklin and Linda Holst-Grubbe. Liane was predeceased by her parents Martin and Lillian Conklin, and her brother, Robert “Bob” Conklin.
In keeping with Liane’s generous nature, the family requests that, in lieu of flowers, memorial donations be made to Hudson Valley Hospice (by mail to 374 Violet Ave, Poughkeepsie, NY 12601 or online at https://www.hvhospice.org/donate) or to the Millerton Fire Company at PO Box 733, Millerton, NY 12546.
A celebration of life will be held on Friday, May 8, from 4:00 to 7:00 p.m. at Conklin Funeral Home, 37 Park Avenue, Millerton, NY.
Her family will remember her as the strong-willed and caring matriarch who always put them first. She will be deeply missed.
Natalia Zukerman
Ten New Yorker cartoonists gather around a table in a scene from “Women Laughing.”
There is something deceptively simple about a New Yorker cartoon. A few lines, a handful of words — usually fewer than a dozen — and suddenly an entire worldview has been distilled into a single panel.
There is also something delightfully subversive about watching a room full of women sit around a table drawing them. Not necessarily because it seems unusual now — thankfully — but because “Women Laughing,” screening May 9 at The Moviehouse in Millerton, reminds us that for much of The New Yorker’s history, such a gathering would have been nearly impossible to imagine.
The documentary, directed by longtime New Yorker cartoonist Liza Donnelly and filmmaker Kathleen Hughes, traces the uneven history of women cartoonists at the magazine, from their presence in its earliest issues to their near disappearance by the 1950s. But the film does something more interesting still: it lets us watch these artists at work.
“The idea was talking to these women about their process and where their ideas come from,” Donnelly said. “You get to witness these women drawing in the film, and I draw with them.”
“Women Laughing” includes intimate conversations with some of the most celebrated and groundbreaking cartoonists at The New Yorker, including Roz Chast, Emily Flake, Sarah Akinterinwa, Liana Finck, Amy Hwang and Bishakh Som. Donnelly also speaks with Emma Allen, the magazine’s first female cartoon editor. During a dynamic roundtable discussion with 10 cartoonists, viewers also meet artists Emily Sanders Hopkins, Maggie Larson, Arenza Pena-Popo and Victoria Roberts.
“I will confess that it was what I was most worried about,” Hughes said of the technical challenges presented by filming 10 artists at work. “You have 10 people. That’s 10 microphones, six or seven cameras. We didn’t even have a budget for it, but our crew donated all the gear so that we could get it done.”
Hughes was relieved that not only did it work, but it became one of the most memorable parts of the film.
“Frankly, when you put people together and have them talk on screen, it can get tiresome quickly,” Hughes said. “So I’m glad that nobody listened to me when I said I didn’t think we should do this.”
For Donnelly, whose book “Very Funny Ladies” was the impetus for the film, the documentary offered dimensions the printed page could not. For Hughes, whose previous films have examined weightier subjects like economic inequality and gun violence, entering the world of cartoonists brought its own revelations.
“I really did think that the cartoonists were sort of in charge of what was in the magazine,” Hughes said, laughing. “That was probably the biggest revelation.”
What surprised her most was not just the structure of the magazine’s famously competitive submission process — cartoonists submit batches each week and face frequent rejection — but the sheer persistence required to sustain the work.
“It was inspiring to see the dedication everybody had to the craft,” Hughes said. “And how creative everybody is, not just in making the cartoons themselves, but in supporting themselves through it.”
An audience reaction that has surprised both Donnelly and Hughes is the laughter. By the time the filmmakers finished editing, they had seen each cartoon so many times that the humor had become technical material — questions of pacing, framing and sequence. The first public screening changed that.
“All the laughter really kind of blew us away,” Hughes said. “You forget.”
The audience response underscores something else the film makes clear: just how much skill lies behind the apparent simplicity of a single-panel cartoon. Donnelly noted that the form is “a lot harder than you think.” Like the cartoons it celebrates, the documentary values economy and precision. At just 37 minutes, its compact running time reflects that ethos.
“A lot of people have said it’s a great length,” Hughes said. “It’s almost like a cartoon version of a documentary.”
Donnelly appreciates the response she hears most often after screenings.
“You leave them wanting more,” she said.
Like the best New Yorker cartoons, “Women Laughing” says a great deal with remarkable economy, leaving audiences laughing and looking more closely at what appears, at first glance, deceptively simple.
“Women Laughing” will screen at the Moviehouse (48 Main St., Millerton) on May 9 at 7 p.m. followed by a conversation with Liza Donnelly, Kathleen Hughes and cartoonist Amy Hwang. Moderated by local filmmaker Pam Hogan. Tickets at themoviehouse.net

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Natalia Zukerman
In “Your Friends and Neighbors,” Lena Hall’s character is also a musician.
At a certain point you stop asking who people want you to be and start figuring out who you already are.
— Lena Hall
There is a moment in conversation with actress and musician Lena Hall when the question of identity lands with unusual force.
“Well,” she said, pausing to consider it, “who am I really?”
Born Celina Consuela Gabriella Carvajal into a San Francisco family steeped in performance — her father a choreographer, her mother a prima ballerina — Hall was, by her own account, “born to be onstage.”
“Like a show pony,” she joked.
She trained first as a ballet dancer, studying in France on scholarship before abandoning that path for musical theater after seeing her sister perform in “42nd Street.”
Even then, identity was something inherited before it was chosen.
The Tony Award-winning, Grammy-nominated performer has spent much of her career moving between worlds: Broadway and television, rock clubs and film sets, musical theater precision and raw, unvarnished songwriting. Her latest solo album, “Lullabies for the End of the World,” is an intimate, autobiographical work that explores co-dependency, heartbreak and self-reckoning.
But for Hall, whose career includes a Tony-winning turn in “Hedwig and the Angry Inch,” a starring role on Apple TV+’s “Your Friends and Neighbors,” and acclaimed performances in film and television, the search for artistic identity has been unfolding for decades.
The record’s central themes — identity, authenticity, reinvention — are the same ones Hall has been sorting through for much of her adult life.
“It wasn’t until later that I started asking those questions,” she said from New York City, which she splits her time between and West Cornwall, Connecticut. “What do I want to represent? Who do I want to be? I was trying to find the authentic self instead of just going with the flow.”
The search began, in part, with an unlikely catalyst: a tonsillectomy.
When Hall was 26, surgery altered her voice just as she had joined the rock band The Deafening. “They would just play really loud and never change the key,” she said, laughing.
At the same time, Hall found herself confronting larger questions about purpose and artistic direction.
“I was going through that moment of, what do I really want out of this industry?” she said. “If I’m going to keep doing this, I need to have a purpose.”
Until then, Hall said, she had largely been defined by external expectations.
“I was always who I was told to be,” she said.
The surgery became a kind of reset, both vocally and personally. It also coincided with another form of reinvention: the decision to change her professional name.
“My real name is a lot,” she said.
People stumbled over its pronunciation. It was harder to remember, harder to place. “Lena Hall” felt streamlined, memorable. “It also just sounds like a rock star,” she laughed.
Hall, who is one-quarter Filipino with Spanish and Swedish ancestry, later grappled with whether changing her name obscured an important part of who she is. At one point, she said, she was advised that reverting to her birth name might improve her casting prospects as representation standards shifted.
She declined.
“That didn’t feel authentic,” she said.
Instead, Hall came to see the name change as less a departure than a continuation.
After making the change, she discovered that Carvajal itself was a family alteration, adopted generations ago in the Philippines.
“I’m still honoring my family, even in the name change,” she said. “I’m continuing that tradition.”
Her Filipino heritage remains central to how she understands herself, even as some parts of that history remain difficult to trace.
“I’m very curious to keep searching,” Hall said. “That side of my family is where all the artistry came from.”
Hall’s refusal to flatten herself into a single story or cultural identity is mirrored in her journey as a multi-hyphenate artist. She is, depending on the moment, a Broadway belter, a screen actor, a rock frontwoman, a conceptual songwriter.
Her current side project, the all-female Radiohead tribute band Labiahead, gleefully complicates the picture further, reframing familiar songs through a new lens.
“When women perform something written and performed by men, it changes it completely,” she said. “Nothing even needs to be said. It just happens.”
The same could be said of Hall’s own work.
Across mediums, she is an artist interested less in performance as display than performance as revelation.
Onscreen, she said, that often means doing less.
“The camera is literally on your nose,” she said. “You just have to think, and it picks it up.”
Between Celina Carvajal and Lena Hall, between ballet and rock, Broadway and Cornwall, Hall is making peace with multiplicity.
“At a certain point,” she said, “you stop asking who people want you to be and start figuring out who you already are.”
Natalia Zukerman
“A Love Letter to Handsome John” screens at The Colonial Theatre on May 8.
Fans of the late singer-songwriter Todd Snider will have a rare opportunity to gather in celebration of his life and music when “A Love Letter to Handsome John,” a documentary by Otis Gibbs, screens for one night only at The Colonial Theatre in North Canaan on Friday, May 8.
Presented by Wilder House Berkshires and The Colonial Theatre, the 54-minute film began as a tribute to Snider’s friend and mentor, folk legend John Prine. Instead, following Snider’s death last November at age 59, it became something more intimate: a portrait of the alt-country pioneer during the final year of his life.
What began as a simple gesture of gratitude evolved into a poignant meditation on friendship, artistic influence and loss, offering viewers an unusually personal glimpse of Snider at home in his quietest moments.
For Brad Sanzenbacher of Wilder House Berkshires, bringing the film to the Northwest Corner has been deeply personal.
“I’ve been a huge fan of Todd Snider and John Prine for 20 years,” he said. “I lived in the Bay Area before I moved here, and I would see Todd live probably at least four times a year — sometimes back-to-back nights. I was that kind of super Dead Head-type fan that was on tour.”
Sanzenbacher said he had the chance to meet Snider several times and attended the musician’s Catskills retreats.
“He was just one of those people that I really connected with strongly,” he said. “Like a lot of people, when he passed away, I was really shocked and devastated.”
When he learned screenings of the film were beginning to pop up around the country, he wanted to bring that communal experience here.
“I know there are a lot of Todd Snider fans everywhere who want closure on his life and maybe a chance to feel like they’re in the room with him again,” he said. “I thought it would be a really cool experience to bring the film to the community.”
The screening is part of what Sanzenbacher calls the film’s organic, fan-driven momentum.
“I love the grassroots movement of the film,” he said. “They were going to do two screenings and that was going to be it, and now they’re showing it all over the country because fans have reached out to say, ‘How can I bring a screening to my town?’ I feel really lucky we’re able to show it.”
He hopes the evening captures some of the camaraderie that defined the Todd Snider fan experience.
“One of my favorite things about being a Todd Snider fan was when you’d go to two or three shows in a row, you’d turn into a little caravan and make friends with strangers and become this community,” he said. “That’s kind of something I’m hoping happens at the film.”
The screening begins at 7 p.m. Friday, May 8, at The Colonial Theatre, 27 Railroad St., North Canaan. Run time is 54 minutes, with time afterward for audience members to gather and connect.
Matthew Kreta
New Sharon Playhouse logo designed by Christina D’Angelo.
The Sharon Playhouse has unveiled a new brand identity for its 2026 season, reimagining its logo around the silhouette of the historic barn that has long defined the theater.
Sharon Playhouse leadership — Carl Andress, Megan Flanagan and Michael Baldwin — revealed the new logo and website ahead of the 2026 season. The change reflects leadership’s desire to embrace both the Playhouse’s history and future, capturing its nostalgia while reinventing its image.
After attending the closing performance of the Playhouse’s production of The Mousetrap last September, Christina D’Angelo told Playhouse leadership she was “completely changing her design direction” for the new logo after experiencing the work and atmosphere of the Sharon Playhouse firsthand. She incorporated the barn silhouette to capture the theater campus’s history and evoke the warmth and magic of the Playhouse.
“The barn gives a fixed image of how we all feel about the Playhouse,” said Megan Flanagan, managing director. “The new branding presents the story of the great history of Sharon Playhouse — who we were, who we are today, who we are becoming — and the barn is that unifying element.”
The design was one of several options presented and was selected unanimously by Playhouse leadership. D’Angelo also designed this season’s branding, creating a visual throughline for the 2026 season.
The Playhouse remains committed to its taglines and mission statements, “Create. Community. Together.” and “Your destination for the arts.” While those phrases are no longer reflected in the logo itself, Carl Andress, artistic director, said the organization is not moving away from them and that they will continue to appear in publications and on the updated website.
“The refreshed brand aims to shift the narrative in the community, reinforcing the Playhouse’s role not only as a theater but as a vibrant gathering place and artistic home,” Playhouse leadership said in a press release.
For more information, including a video about the updated logo and details on the upcoming 2026 season, visit sharonplayhouse.org

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