![Millerton’s Eddie Collins: The Hall-of-Famer with academic distinction](https://millertonnews.com/media-library/jim-mackin-photo-submitted.jpg?id=48203404&width=980&quality=90)
Jim Mackin Photo submitted
Baseball is back. The delay from the contract talks between owners and players is another one for the books. Starting the season a few weeks late is like a “rain delay” in a game between the Yankees and Boston. No one is leaving the stadium; America’s pastime is intact. Before the crack of the bat is heard when the season begins in mid-April, some local baseball lore is offered here for the enjoyment of fans and readers.
The baseball great Eddie Collins was born in Millerton and lived in the house on Main Street that is now the Millerton Inn restaurant and hotel at 53 Main St.
Some baseball writers consider Eddie Collins the greatest second baseman of all time. He was inducted into the Baseball Hall-of-Fame in Cooperstown, N.Y., in only its fourth year of 1939. He was inducted that year along with George Sisler, Al Spaulding and Lou Gehrig.
Sisler and Spaulding along with Charlie Gehringer, Larry MacPhail and Barry Larkin all attended the University of Michigan.
Gehrig along with Collins, John Montgomery Ward, Walter O’Malley and Sandy Koufax all attended Columbia University. Thus, Columbia and the University of Michigan — until 2021 — are the institutions of higher learning that can claim association with the most players in the Baseball Hall of Fame, namely five each.
Collins graduated from Columbia’s traditional four-year undergraduate program. Gehrig and O’Malley attended Columbia but did not graduate. O’Malley (damn his eternal soul, say older Brooklynites, for sending the Dodgers to Los Angeles) attended Columbia Law School but switched to Fordham Law School.
Ward, a player-manager in the latter part of the 19th century, went to Penn State at age 13 but was kicked out for an infraction and later graduated from Columbia Law School.
Koufax took classes at Columbia in his rookie season of 1955 when he pitched for the Brooklyn Dodgers.
Jacob Ruppert Jr., who was the owner of the New York Yankees and acquired Babe Ruth from Boston, attended Columbia Grammar School and was accepted into Columbia, but went into the family brewery business instead.
Collins had very impressive statistics of 745 stolen bases, 3,315 hits, and a .333 lifetime batting average. He is the only non-Yankee to be part of the same team winning five or more World Series. He is the only player to play on two teams for at least 12 seasons each. He is the only player to steal six bases in two separate games. His 516 sacrifice bunts is still the major league record.
The tie between Columbia and University of Michigan for the most students in the Baseball Hall of Fame was usurped in 2021 when the New York Yankee’s Derek Jeter, who attended the University of Michigan but did not graduate, was inducted.
Michigan’s six baseball Hall-of-Famers now trumps the five of Columbia University.
Notwithstanding this fact, the records of Eddie Collins continue to honor him and his hometown of Millerton.
Author and historian Jim Mackin is president of the Friends of Taconic State Park, which operates the Copake Iron Works Historic Site, one of the most intact examples of 19th century industrial iron making in the Northeast. Jim is also a New York City historian, co-leader of the Bloomingdale Neighborhood History Group and author of 2020’s highly acclaimed “Notable New Yorkers of Manhattan’s Upper West Side: Bloomingdale — Morningside Heights” (Fordham University Press).
Jan. 27 marked the 80th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau. I traveled to Poland as part of a delegation for the commemoration and spent a few days before the event with my father and sister learning, remembering and gathering information.
My dad’s parents, Miriam and Yehuda, of blessed memory, were deported to Auschwitz -Birkenau from the Lódz Ghetto. They both had families that perished and met each other after the camp was liberated.
The gate at Auschwitz. Natalia Zukerman
I put my feet in the train tracks where they would have arrived, ran my hands across the walls of the horrible gas chambers, the broken wood of the crowded bunks, gathered dirt in my shoes where they would have walked, and made sure to touch the trunks of the trees along the path—innocent witnesses.
My father’s parents survived. How did they do it? Miriam was quickly sent to a work camp on the Czech border, and Yehuda played violin in the Auschwitz orchestra (aka the Death Orchestra). Music saved him. A million miracles saved them both.
Many members of our extended family did not survive.
Suitcases taken from prisoners at Auschwitz.Natalia Zukerman
Cuikerman was the original Polish spelling of our name. We poured over page after page of our name in the Book of Names. I can’t explain it, but as I read the names—aloud and quietly—I felt some of their spirits finally release.
Innocent witnesses.
I never wanted to come to Auschwitz-Birkenau. I grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust. It was part of our dark story. From the time I was very little, I saw all the images, watched the movies, read the books. I’ve had nightmares my whole life. I remember the tattoo on my grandmother’s forearm. This was enough.
But until you stand in the field the size of a city and look out at the expanse of crematoria, gas chambers, bunkers, the enormity and scale is just a story, words on a page. Now I have metabolized it in a different way. Now it is part of my DNA on a deeper level. Now I am changed.
A crematorium at Auschwitz.Natalia Zukerman
On Holocaust Remembrance Day, world leaders from fifty countries—including King Charles, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, Emmanuel Macron, Justin Trudeau and so many more— gathered with survivors and their families, musicians, friends and patrons of the organization in an enormous tent at the entrance to Birkenau. A freight train stood in front of the main gate. The car, from Germany, honors the 420,000 Hungarian Jews deported in 1944. Its conservation was funded by Frank Lowy, whose father, Hugo, was killed in the camp.
It radiated with horror in almost theatrical lighting, its now silenced whistle audible in the memories of all who gathered.
I listened to survivor after survivor speak. I watched as each world leader lit candles in remembrance. I said Kaddish (the Jewish prayer for the dead) with the several thousand people present.
But I only heard one person, 99-year-old Polish-born Swedish-Jewish doctor Leon Weintraub, utter any words that made sense to me, to my very fragile and shaken heart. He became a doctor after the war and told the group gathered the one absolute truth: there is only one race—the human race. He talked about the fact that under the skin, we are the same, words that were beyond powerful. In the very place where the most evil “experiments” were conducted to prove the supremacy of the Aryan race, this man stood there in all his beautiful bravery and told the truth. He was able, for a moment, to remove a hierarchy of care and replace it with an expansive, human appeal. He brought the memory of all the people killed, not just the Jews when he said, “be sensitive to all manifestations of intolerance and dislike of those who differ in terms of skin color, religion or sexual orientation.” He widened the conversation, lest we also forget the Romani, queer, disabled, dissidents and more that were also victims of the Nazis. Lest we forget the lesson of Gandhi when he said, “intolerance itself is a form of violence.”
Weintraub ended by saying, “allowing the memory of millions of innocent victims to fade would be equivalent to robbing them of their lives a second time.”
Shoes taken from prisoners.Natalia Zukerman
There are multiple genocides on planet earth right now. There are humans in actual concentration camps as I write this. There are whole populations being murdered.
After this experience, more than ever, I vow to speak the truth as loudly and as often as I can.
Speaking up, questioning and protesting is not only not antisemitism, it defines the core principles of what it means to be Jewish.
A beautiful Jewish human named Albert Einstein said, “Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty.”
This must and will be my task. Nothing else makes any sense.
Prisoners slept four to a bunk at Birkenau.Natalia Zukerman
Dina La Fonte
The “sober curious” movement has gained momentum in recent years, encouraging individuals to explore life without alcohol—whether for health reasons, personal growth, or simple curiosity. Dina La Fonte, a certified recovery coach, is the Senior Business Affairs Associate at Mountainside, an alcohol and drug addiction treatment center with a holistic approach to wellness that has several locations, including the one in Canaan, Connecticut. With nearly five years of sobriety, La Fonte blends professional expertise with lived experience, making her a powerful advocate for recovery.
Like many, La Fonte’s path to recovery was not just about removing alcohol; it was about rediscovering herself. “Once you get sober from a substance, whether it’s alcohol, drugs, gambling or what have you, emotional aspects of change come into place,” she explained. “It’s not a hard stop; it’s a continued process of integration and struggle.” Her own journey has led her to a career in recovery coaching, allowing her to help others find their own path.
“What I love about my work at Mountainside is that it allows me to be who I am without forcing me into a mold,” she said. “In recovery, we identify our authentic voice, establish boundaries, and clarify what we truly want.”
La Fonte explained that the rise of the “sober curious” movement may reflect a cultural shift in how we approach alcohol and self-care. La Fonte attributes this change to open conversations that break down stigma. “Even five or six years ago, admitting you had a problem came with embarrassment,” she said. “Now, the more we discuss it, the more people realize they’re not alone.” This newfound openness has perhaps made it easier for some individuals to explore sobriety and even do so without the pressure of a lifelong commitment.
Beyond emotional well-being, La Fonte also noted the physical benefits of sobriety. “It wasn’t immediate, but after a year, I noticed my skin clearing up, my energy improving, and my confidence growing,” she recalled. “Casual drinking dehydrates the skin, affects sleep, and contributes to inflammation. When people realize how much better they feel without alcohol, they want to hold onto that.”
In her role at Mountainside, La Fonte has expanded beyond coaching to influence organization-wide initiatives. “I still work directly with clients, but now I also help evolve how we support them,” she said. “Mountainside takes a holistic approach—integrating yoga, grief therapy, sound baths, and more. It’s not about pushing people through a system; it’s about meeting them where they are.”
La Fonte uses her social media platform as a “micro-influencer” to promote sober living and wellness. “I focus on positivity in sobriety—whether it’s skincare, self-care, or mental health. I test vegan and cruelty-free products, but I only promote what aligns with my values.”
For those exploring sobriety, La Fonte’s message is simple: “I’m not here to judge. I’m here to help.” She encourages open conversations and meeting people where they are. “If you’re curious about sobriety, let’s talk. I don’t need to know you to be proud of you. I don’t need to know you to love you. I already love you.Just reaching out is a huge step.”
With voices like La Fonte’s leading the conversation, perhaps the sober curious movement is more than a trend—it’s a cultural shift redefining what it means to live fully and authentically.
To contact Dina La Fonte, email her at dina.lafonte@mountainside.com, explore the Mountainside website at mountainside.com, or follow La Fonte on Instagram @dinalafonte