MILLERTON — Nearly a year and a half after opening The Dig in Millerton, Katja Schultz has decided to close the café and store for good on Friday, Dec. 31. The village resident poured her heart and energy into creating an accessible, comfortable community space at 3 Main St. Yet when 2022 arrives, the village will find that cheerful space of everyday enjoyment vacant, another casualty of the COVID pandemic and the economy that has fallen ill alongside it.
The Dig
Schultz and her husband James teamed up with their friend, Raquel Madar, to open The Dig in August 2020. Since then, it has become a place where people can purchase groceries sourced from local vendors and do so much more.
They can engage in community events, purchase artwork by local artists, treat themselves to fresh smoothies and crepes and pass time in its relaxing outdoor patio space.
Working alongside the owners are Webutuck High School students Kaitlyn Cope and Avery Wickwire, multiple volunteers and members of Schultz’s family, including her mother Natalie Pere.
Yet even with The Dig’s initial success, Schultz understood the all-consuming nature of running a small business, especially in Millerton. Over time, she said it became obvious that she and her mom couldn’t sustain The Dig wasn’t, between the time commitment and the challenge of hiring people in today’s climate.
Deciding it was a lot for her and her family, Schultz said. “We had met our goals and I felt like this was the right time to close. It felt like we had a good season one and we didn’t want to have a bad season two.”
Despite their loss, Schultz said she and her mother will be celebrating till the end of the month — in other words, they plan to go out with a bang.
The Dig will be open Fridays through Mondays from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m., with a blowout sale before Christmas and plenty of fun before closing on the 31st.
Considering her future beyond The Dig, Schultz said her first goal is to ski as much as possible with her children and enjoy her weekends with them. Though she’ll no longer be an active merchant in the village business community, she wants to shift her focus and time to learn how to help other local businesses thrive.
Boiling the community’s needs down to one word, Schultz said she believes the Millerton merchants need more connection. She consulted with Lynn Caponera, who owns the building at 3 Main St., about the community’s needs, along with other Millerton business owners about how to stimulate more commerce.
Shultz has also discussed how to offer incentives in town “that are different but are mostly needed” to draw people in. She also wants to highlight the community’s existing resources to attract more visitors and figure out how to translate the digital world of connections into actual experiences.
Going forward, Schultz, who remains open to learning new information, hopes to bridge people together with new ideas — almost as a community liaison. Recognizing the devotion local business owners pour into their enterprises and the challenge of making a profit these days, she wants to make a difference with what she learned from running The Dig and help other merchants prosper.
3 Main St.
Before The Dig, 3 Main St. was previously occupied by a small grocer, the Millerton Mercantile. Caponera explained she originally bought the building with the intention of having her nephew and nieces run it as a small farm grocery store for residents who couldn’t drive to a supermarket.
Opening in the summer of 2019, Caponera’s nephew, Stephen Murphy, managed the Millerton Mercantile for just more a year before it closed.
Based on her experience, Caponera said running a business in Millerton is a dream, given all the support fellow merchants give each other. However, there are challenges with limited parking in the village and the enormous time commitment.
“For the people who actually run it, you really have to have it be your only job because it really is a full-time job,” Caponera said. “What happened with us, we thought it would sort of seamlessly run itself, but there’s so much involved in running anything to do with food. It was really a labor-intensive operation.”
A shifting Main Street
From what she’s heard from other vendors who occupied 3 Main St., Thorunn Kristjansdottir, who heads up the Millerton Business Alliance (MBA), recognizes the parking challenge, especially at the top of Main Street,which has “nothing but office spaces around it.” With The Dig leaving that space, Kristjansdottir said there’s no major draw to that part of Main Street. Instead, the business community appears to taper off around the businesses located on Railroad Plaza, where the Harney Tea Room is with Golden Wok and Country Gardeners Florist.
There is the popular Moonwake Yoga, though, on the second floor at 5 Main St., run by owner Kate Shanley (formerly called Buddhi Tribe).
“Whenever there’s a new business that opens or someone moves to town, we’re always excited… to have a new offering to the mix of offerings available in Millerton,” Kristjansdottir said. “The business owner has to make the decision. No matter what that decision is [when a business closes], it’s always a loss for the community.”
Along with filling the vacant space on Main Street, Kristjansdottir said she hopes “something opens up that has a draw for itself and be another flavor to add to the mixture of Millerton.”
“I always get a little concerned when businesses close west on Main Street,” said Mayor Jenn Najdek, “but we’ve been pretty fortunate. Usually when something closes, it’s not too long before something else takes its place.”
Asked what she’d like to see as the space’s next prospective business, Caponera said it would be great to have a store similar to The Dig or the Millerton Mercantile — something that won’t create a lot of noise and perhaps offer a gathering spot and local groceries.
Caponera advised anyone interested in renting 3 Main St. to get in touch with agent Brad Rebillard at Dutchess County Realty in Millerton.
From left, workers at The Dig Avery Wickwire, Natalie Pere, Kaitlyn Cope, Zachary Pere and co-owner Katja Schultz greeted customers at the popular 3 Main St. site in Millerton. Photo by Aly Morrissey Photography
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Each piece makes a gift, a note or even a Christmas tree seem more personal, more considered, and more connected to humanity. Since then, demand for her personalized, hand-lettered tags, ornaments and cards has only grown, appearing in mailboxes across the region and at shops like the Cornwall Whale and Marton & Davis in Chatham, New York. Her precision is remarkable, and to watch her create these one-of-a-kind pieces is an art all unto itself.
In recent months, we’ve seen a deluge of stories on digital replacement. Data managers, bankers and even therapists are being replaced by computer programs in mass waves of layoffs. But what many still find surprising about the proliferation of nonhuman competitors in the job market is how it’s affecting the arts. Illustrators, animators, photographers, musicians and even on-screen actors are being supplanted by bots touted as “artificial intelligence agents.”
But calligraphy — and handwriting in general — has been in the crosshairs of mechanical progress for centuries. There was a time, if you can believe it, when writing anything required ink, paper and sometimes even a living, breathing human scribe. No typewriters, no word processors, no voice-to-text programs.
Then came Gutenberg’s printing press. Sure, it changed the world for the better, ensuring a greater distribution of ideas, and helping spark some of the most important political movements in history. But it also marked one of the first moments when technology replaced the artistic work of the human hand. Over the centuries, printers, designers and technologists have continued to innovate. Today, with Photoshop or Illustrator, an entire universe of alphabets exists, from ornate and embellished to precise and futuristic — all designed to replace the human hand.
Melissa Gamwell, crafting custom Valentine’s Day cards in her office in Cornwall. Kevin Greenberg
Yet, despite this centuries-long assault from technology, Gamwell has found her own way to thrive. Largely self-taught, she combines her drawing and industrial design background with an old-school New England childhood in Maine that involved “very tangible, hands-on, creative problem-solving using many materials.” Raised by “parents who loved antiquarian books, often filled with hand-written dedications,” hers was the kind of upbringing in which “traditional practices were cherished and flaunted” — a time and place with “hand-painted lettering on churches, street signage, the stones in beautiful churchyard cemeteries, and log books.”
Those early impressions have stayed with her, heightening her appreciation of sometimes overlooked details.
“There’s so much ephemera floating around with traces of beautiful handwriting to see everywhere, even now in Connecticut,” she said.
Even in a digital age, she keeps technology at a distance.
“You will not find ChatGPT on my phone, and you will usually not find my phone on me,” she said. Instead, she opts for a notebook, a scrap of paper or the back of a receipt. Sometimes, she goes even further, gathering black walnuts from trees on her property to make the specialized ink for her practice.
Gamwell’s approach to her craft is also philosophical. “There is no better feeling than working through something with your own brain and your own hands, even if you find it less exemplary than you would hope. And it only uses the water you’re already consuming. Do you need to convey an idea? Draw it, however horrific or childish. Write it, even if you never learned proper grammar — because you’ve always had programs do it,” she said.
“Sometimes I think that everything I like is ‘historic’ but it’s really that I just find more value in the traditional methods, which are still alive and well, and desperately in need of stewards for the future.”
After nearly 400 years of pressure, it’s encouraging to see handwriting — an art form that once seemed destined for obsolescence — still thriving, one careful stroke at a time. And thanks to Gamwell, perhaps there’s a new generation of observers, collectors and future calligraphers ready to carry it forward.
D.H. Callahan is a voice actor, creative director and trail steward. He lives with his wife, artist Lane Arthur, in West Cornwall, Connecticut.
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