Stephen S. Myers


LAKEVILLE — Stephen S. Myers, 82, of Lakeville, (formerly of New York City, Almond, New York, Kane’ohe, Hawaii, and Fair Oaks, California) passed away peacefully at his home on Nov. 30, 2024. He is survived by his wife Elizabeth “Betsy” (Phelan), his two sons Matthew and Shepherd, two nephews and three nieces.
Stephen was born in Elmhurst, Illinois, on Oct. 29, 1942, the son of the late Elwood Mosman and Donnie Marguerite Myers. Growing up in Glen Ellyn, Illinois, Stephen struggled with dyslexia in multiple high schools, ultimately graduating from Avon Old Farms High School in Avon, Connecticut.
Before attending Pratt Institute, he lived in a beach shack Shelter Island for a year and remembered this as a time when “you could walk the beach and eat the fish.” At Pratt he met his wife, Betsy, and helped to establish photography as a major there with the assistance of his friend Robert Mapplethorpe. As one of the first wave of artists to move to the Cast Iron District in Lower Manhattan, he and Betsy renovated a 3,200 square-foot loft and became one of many artists illegally living in the Soho loft spaces. They ran a photo studio for commercial clients, as well as doing street photography, including a role as the club photographer for the Alien Nomads’ MC or Motorcycle Club (which later became the New York City Hells Angels Chapter). He was a major contributor to New Journalism in New York City with Milton Glaser and Clay Felker during the 1960’s and 1970’s. His investigative photojournalism was featured in major stories about media figures along with current events in New York City and upstate New York. He documented multiple artists, musicians and notable persons (including Jim Morrison and The Doors, Sly and The Family Stone, Eddie Egan, Russell Means, Dennis Banks, John Lee Hooker, and Count Basie) from the Sixties to the present.
In the late 1970’s Stephen and Betsy relocated to Western New York where he continued his photography work full time, including becoming a field tester for Eastman Kodak’s pre-production professional films and papers, as well as photos in the ad campaigns to introduce the product to the marketplace. His North Coast Native American mask photography for the American Museum of Natural History was used extensively across dozens of publications. He was a runner-up for the 1998 Ellie National Magazine Award for his LIFE Magazine article about his plant photography in which he was featured.
In 1988 Stephen and his wife led a grassroots resistance campaign, with the help of physicist Theodore “Ted” Taylor and the local community, against the New York State government over a proposed low-level radioactive dump. Rallying everyone from hardscrabble farmers, the sheriff, political leaders, academics, media, and even the members of the local Mennonite community, they were able to increase their ranks and bring many disparate groups together. At one point Stephen read the Declaration of Independence to an audience of over 5,000 at a county-wide meeting. He considered this day, and the fact that the entire campaign remained a form of nonviolent protest, to be among his greatest accomplishments. This activism led to a U.S. Supreme Court challenge, New York v. United States, 505 U.S. 144 (1992), which is the first enduring challenge of states’ rights under the 10th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution. They were able not only to stop construction of the dump, but also to change how the federal government would handle the disposal and containment of such waste for future generations.
His work was published in LIFE Magazine, New York Magazine, Esquire, Playboy, Fortune, A.D. Magazine, New Times Magazine, Harper’s Magazine, Natural History Magazine, VIVA Magazine, Seventeen, Audience Magazine, Working Woman, National Lampoon, The Saturday Review, and NOVA. Prints of his work can be found in the permanent collections of the Victoria and Albert Museum, Fenimore Art Museum, Albright-Knox Art Gallery, George Eastman House, the Robert L. Pfannebecker Collection, the Almond Historical Society Archives, American Museum of Natural History, Robert Sobieszek Collection, Center for Creative Photography at the University of Arizona, George Eastman House, the Sidney Clark Collection at Avon Old Farms, Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum, Atlantic Richfield Company (ARCO) Collection, and Kroch Library’s Rare Manuscript Collections at Cornell University.
After raising his children in Western New York State, he and Betsy lived in various places before returning to the Northeast. Stephen had a lifelong passion and love for woodworking, painting (oil & watercolor), restoring antiques, attending estate sales and flea markets, listening to music, and riding his bicycle with his sons.
Joe Brennan
The Edgewood Restaurant, a beloved Amenia roadside restaurant run by George and Anne Phillips, pictured during its peak years in the 1950s and ’60s.
With the recent death of George Phillips at 100, locals are remembering the Edgewood Restaurant, the Amenia supper club he and his wife, Anne Phillips, owned and operated together for more than two decades.
At the Edgewood, there were Delmonico steaks George carved in the basement, lobster tails from an infrared cooker, local trout from the stream outside the door, and a folded paper cup of butter, with heaping bowls of family-style potatoes and vegetables, plus a shot glass of crème de menthe to calm the stomach when the modest check arrived after dessert.
It began as a former gas station and tavern called The Narrows, on the road to Sharon, around a switchback east of Troutbeck. It became a roadhouse restaurant for weddings, bar mitzvahs, proms, graduations, birthdays and holidays with relatives. At Easter, New Year’s and Christmas, George and Anne served the food free — customers only paid for drinks as a thank-you for another good year.
It was a different time. Amenia was an isolated dairy farming community, and two large state psychiatric hospitals employed 4,000 potential diners. People needed a friendly neighborhood restaurant run by a local couple who knew everybody. They offered special-occasion favorites: fried chicken, meatloaf, sliced turkey with gravy, pork chops from nearby farms, and fresh white bread baked at 4 a.m. by George.
There was no maître d’. Waitresses, many still teenagers, greeted guests and helped them find a table. Cloth napkins and sturdy white plates sat in a knotty pine dining room that felt more like a family home than a formal restaurant. Large tables down the center accommodated families. George and Anne fed the staff before opening, and everyone ate the same meals served to customers. Everything was homemade classics of the 1950s and ’60s: cold shrimp and cocktail sauce, stuffed mushrooms, veal parmesan, King crab, clams and oysters on the half shell, chopped hamburger steak, French onion soup, fried chicken and pumpkin pie.
George was a tough but fair boss with a quirky sense of humor. Former employee Kevin Rooney, who worked there as a teenager, recalled being served a hot fudge sundae on a sweltering day — only to discover the “ice cream” was Crisco. Revenge came later in the form of a Coke spiked with Tabasco sauce.
George also kept a series of German shepherds — Rinny, Schultz and Dooley — named after a Jonathan Winters routine featuring talking beer steins. The dogs were locked inside at night for security. Tony Robert, another former employee, remembered coming in one day to find Schultz with the seat of someone’s pants in her jaws. When kids tried to sneak into a dance through the bathroom window after the fire marshal had closed the overcrowded place, George put Rinny in the restroom. Problem solved.
Anne also ran a no-nonsense operation. She marked liquor bottles at night so no one would sneak a drink, though the cleanup crew found ways around it, sipping the blackberry liquer instead. Along with cooking and baking everything from scratch, she raised their children in a life closely tied to the restaurant. The bus dropped their daughters off there after school, and one recalled doing homework while the family spent more time in the restaurant than in their nearby home.

After 23 years of long hours — often more than 100 a week — George began stepping back, at times closing the restaurant to recover. He later moved into real estate and Anne opened a successful craft store.
George sold the place in 1972. At one point, it became a lively beer joint and concert venue, featuring local bands, such as Random Concept, Little Village and Good Friend Coyote. When New York lowered its drinking age to 18 — while it remained 21 just across the state line — it drew crowds from Connecticut. Locals called them “Connecticut Rags,” kids with fancy cars who came to dance, drink and sometimes fight, rocking the floors so hard they bounced like a trampoline and shook dust from the rafters.
At closing time, they had to dodge police waiting across the state line. Sometimes Jack Rooney, Kevin’s father and the bartender, drove them home. One morning, Betty Rooney got a call from a worried mother asking if her son was there. “If he’s wearing red tennis shoes,” she said, “he’s asleep on my front lawn.”
The Edgewood also drew actors from the Sharon Playhouse and notable visitors, including Paul Newman, Cole Porter and even Supreme Court justices. George showed silent movies on a sheet in the dining room, and guests could dance to the Les Schulman Orchestra or to George and his brothers, who had their own band.
It served as a gathering place for groups such as the Eastern Artificial Insemination Cooperative and for events like the Knights of Columbus Communion breakfast. Families marked milestones there — including one that celebrated five birthdays at a Palm Sunday brunch in 1970.
Christmas dinner cost $3 and included stuffed olives, roast pig, prime rib, Virginia ham, deep-sea scallops, Long Island duck, creamed onions and, of course, crème de menthe parfait. On New Year’s Eve 1959, dinner was $15 a couple — $7.50 each for all the champagne you could drink.
The venue came to an end when the building burned to the ground in 1985.
The building is gone, but not the memories — the laughter, the music, the meals, and George carving steaks by hand. He lived a century, but the Edgewood, for those who knew it, was timeless.
Next time you’re driving to Sharon and pass the empty, weedy lot with a rusty electric meter, imagine calling George’s old number to make a reservation for a place that lives on in memory.

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Robin Roraback
Alissa DeGregorio, a New Milford -based artist and designer, has pieces on display at Mine Hill Distillery.
When I’m designing a book, I’m also the bridge between artist and author, the final step that pulls everything together.
— Alissa DeGregorio
A visit to Alissa DeGregorio Art, the website of the artist and designer, reveals the multiple talents she possesses.
Tabs for design, commissions, print club, and classes still reveal only part of her work.On the design page are examples of graphic and book design, including book covers illustrated by DeGregorio, along with samples of licensed products such as coloring pages and lunch boxes, and examples of prop design she has done for film.
The commissions tab includes samples of her pet and house portraits, as well as a new endeavor: wedding bouquet portraits.
“I love painting flowers and it’s a great way to forever preserve such an iconic part of a bride’s special day,” she said.
A shopping tab offers paintings, prints, and calendars for purchase.
Other tabs highlight the classes she teaches at the New Milford Public Library and another new venture:
“I’m starting a print club called ‘Root & Wing’. Each month, I’ll release an animal - or plant-themed – painting as a mailable 5-by-7 print with an accompanying information sheet, meditation and herbal recipe. People can purchase just one month or subscribe for the year,” DeGregorio explained.
DeGregorio considered a career in music.“My dad was a musician, always playing trumpet, piano, guitar or saxophone. As a teenager, I took quickly to the guitar and began writing my own songs, performing on my own and with a band. I thought music would be my path until my mid-twenties, when my focus switched to art.”
She recalls a childhood surrounded by art. “My mom was also an artist, creating detailed pen-and-ink drawings. Artist was the first thing I knew I wanted to be when I grew up and it was never discouraged. As a little kid, I would draw beside her, sculpt with homemade play doh, craft, crochet or paint.”
After graduating from high school in New Fairfield, Conn., and attending Naropa University in Colorado to pursue fine arts and Buddhism for a time, she returned to Connecticut to finish her degree at Western Connecticut State University. “When I was close to completing an illustration BA, a professor encouraged me to stay the extra year and double major in graphic design.”She said the extra time gave her “a strong foundation in design and storytelling. Experience in so many different creative fields has guided my practice and allowed me to pursue many avenues of art-making.”
Her mother, besides being an artist herself, runs Storybook Arts, an agency representing children’s book illustrators. DeGregorio has sometimes helped out. “I’ve always loved children’s illustration; there’s nothing better than a beautifully illustrated story. I had an insider’s eye to the nuts and bolts of the illustration business early on, and that taught me about pricing, contracts, the illustration process and also how to be business savvy but kind.”
DeGregorio likes working with authors who self-publish.She has done this both as a designer and an agent. “When I’m designing a book, I’m also the bridge between artist and author, the final step that pulls everything together. A good agent not only keeps track of timelines and contracts but is a supportive and encouraging ally to the artists they represent.”
An interesting aspect of her many talents is creating props. “I’ve done some prop work for TV and movies, such as handwritten lyric sheets for the upcoming Michael movie, or document and book props for Stranger Things. Those are fun for the wow factor!” she explained.
Of the classes she teaches, she said, “Teaching is enjoyable in that I’m helping to inspire people to have confidence in their own creativity. Watching students leave my classes feeling more joyful is its own reward.”
“I’ve been teaching adult painting classes at the New Milford Public Library for about four years now. I recently taught a series focusing on painting emotions. We talked about what the emotion meant to us, and how to represent that visually. For kids, I try to focus on process art and skill building through an activity, like designing a mythical map or board game, or Herve Tullet-style workshops.” DeGregorio has several classes ongoing through the summer.
DeGregorio’s paintings are on display at Mine Hill Distillery in Roxbury, with an artist reception on May 2 from 5 to 7 p.m. Her husband’s band, Gumbo, will play at the reception.
From May 15 to 17, DeGregorio will be at Goat Days in New Milford, where she will have art for sale.
To find out more about Alissa DeGregorio Art and all that she offers, go to alissadegregorio.com.A link to sign up for classes is also available on the site.
DeGregorio feels fortunate to have followed a path to being an artist. “I love it all and can’t believe some of the things I’ve gotten to do. I look forward to what the future may hold.”
D.H. Callahan
Minimalist works by Agnes Martin on display at Dia:Beacon.
At Dia:Beacon, simplicity commands attention.
On Saturday, April 4, the venerated modern art museum — located at 3 Beekman St. in Beacon, NY — opened an exhibition of works by the middle- to late-20th-century minimalist artist Agnes Martin.
Martin, the Canadian-born New York and New Mexico resident who died in 2004, made the kind of ambiguous abstract art that inspires countless imitators and interpreters.
At first glance, most of the pieces in the new show, “Painting Is Not the Act of Painting,” (on display until June 22) are variations on simple lines and grids painstakingly applied by the artist’s own hand using paint and pencil.
Despite their relative simplicity, it took Martin years of rejecting her own artwork to reach this level of pure abstraction. She would often take knives to paintings she didn’t like, literally slashing work that didn’t live up to her expectations. It wasn’t until she was in her 50s that she began making the work she would become known for.
That evolution is reflected in the exhibition’s 24 works.
Dia:Beacon seems like a perfect place for them. The museum is a monument to simplicity. Even the most complicated pieces are abstractions in their own ways. A straight, unpainted plywood wall with diagonal backing by Donald Judd suggests a room under construction. Michael Heizer’s singular ovoid boulder embedded into a gallery wall strikes unease into visitors.
Subtle grids and softly layered lines by Agnes Martin draw the eye at Dia:BeaconD.H. Callahan
Martin’s pieces feel at home here. In the context of such visual, if not conceptual, simplicity, her art seems louder than it might in almost any other setting. Faint blue and peach stripes gain vibrancy when compared with the all-white canvases of Robert Ryman or the large gray mirrors of Gerhard Richter, both a few rooms away. By comparison, the visibly human-drawn lines of pencil or etched-out paint seem almost complicated, and technically masterful.
It’s enough to make you ponder the name of the exhibition, “Painting Is Not the Act of Painting,” pulled from a quote by Martin: “Painting is not making paintings; it is a development of awareness. And with this awareness, your work changes, but very slowly.”
In a world where studio assistants and fabricators contribute to the output of many artists, Martin relished the act of painting. She painted nearly every day of her adult life. For her, the process was an integral part of the work, and it’s hard to look at these pieces without appreciating her hand.
This repetitive study is also demonstrated across the hall in a gallery dedicated to a single work by Andy Warhol. The piece, “Shadows,” is a study of variations on a single subject. Warhol took photos of shadows in his office and, using a silkscreen process, painted them 102 times on identically sized canvases.
Walking into the room, it may seem like the same image repeated. On closer inspection, the canvases vary widely in color and composition. The work suggests that repetition can produce unexpected forms.
Agnes Martin has become enshrined as one of the leaders of the minimalist movement of the 1960s and ’70s. Her work and artistic philosophies have inspired countless admirers. This exhibition displays a selection of important pieces from nearly 50 years of practice.
Robin Roraback
Hunt Library in Falls Village will present a commemorative show of paintings and etchings by the late Priscilla Belcher of Falls Village.
Priscilla Belcher, a Canaan resident who was known for her community involvement and willingness to speak out, will be featured in a posthumous exhibition at the ArtWall at the Hunt Library from April 25 through May 15.
An opening reception will be held from 5 to 7 p.m. on April 25. The show will commemorate her life and work and will include watercolors and etchings. Belcher died in November 2025 at the age of 95.
Christian Allyn, a close friend, said Belcher largely kept her creative work private. “Priscilla was a very private person. She kept her painting and writings to herself and only a few close family members,” he said, noting that she was self-taught.
After Belcher suffered a fall in 2024, Allyn and her neighbor, Gail Sinclair, prepared her home for her return. “During this process is when Gail and I began to uncover the volumes of art that Priscilla did throughout her life,” he said.
Belcher was born in 1930 in the Huntsville section of Canaan, the youngest of 10 children. Her family struggled during the Great Depression. “She could remember the entire family splitting one cabbage for dinner,” Allyn said. Her father died when she was nine.
She graduated from Lee H. Kellogg School, when it was still located at the Hunt Library building, and went on to graduate from Housatonic Valley Regional High School (HVRHS).She married John Belcher, foster son of local landowner Dorothy Haven, and moved in 1952 to a house in South Canaan that Haven gave them, near the South Canaan Meeting house, the “Little Red House.”
Years later, Belcher sold the home to help cover legal expenses for her neighbor, Peter Reilly, who was wrongly accused of killing his mother while a student at HVRHS in the 1970s.
Allyn described Belcher as part of a generation shaped by hardship. “Priscilla was one of the last living examples of the greatest generation,” he said. “Through that struggle, her tenacity and character were formed, which helped shape Canaan and the wider region into what it is today.”
He added that her advocacy ranged from pushing for pollution controls at the Falls Village landfill to calling for reforms in Region One schools. “Her willingness to put her house up to pay for Peter Reilly’s legal expenses, consistent advocacy of pollution controls … and reform to Region One in 2010 led this area into a far better place,” he said.
Belcher worked as a bookkeeper for the Lakeville Journal and Geer Nursing. After 1978, she devoted her time to gardening, documenting local history, refinishing furniture, attending town meetings, supporting people in recovery, and developing her painting and writing.
“She had a very hard life and often upset other people while she was intending to do good,” Allyn said. He recalled a conversation near the end of her life: “She said to me in her last days, ‘You know, I think I went a little too far with what I did in Falls Village,’” referring to her outspokenness. He added that after reflecting, “her entire outlook changed.”
The opening reception will be a celebration of Priscilla Belcher’s life, art, and legacy. All are welcome.
For more information visit www.huntlibrary.org/art-wall

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