The headline on the story is the headline on this column. It was my second year on the village board as trustee, and though I had covered village and town board meetings for years as an Enterprise reporter, I did not know sh– from Shinola about how complicated things could get when you had to participate in those decisions. (Shinola, a brown shoe polish, was made famous during World War II, when soldiers were actually issued the polish in a shoe shine kit.)

John Campion was mayor, Stan Savarie was village manager, the village attorney was Joe Stephen, who previously taught at Albany Law School, and the other trustees were Charles Lavery, Myron Skeels and George Stearns.

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It seemed like everyone had a piece of the hotel

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It was a very long story, the lead story on page 1, but with no byline … so here are excerpts:

“The Village of Saranac Lake is the owner of a hotel this afternoon.”

“Whether they own the basic workings or simply a brick shell is a question for the lawyers, but Mayor John Campion and members of the board were at the hotel this morning to make sure that the equipment was not moved without a battle. Then the Mayor and the Village Manager put a padlock on the door and make sure that personal property is removed only by the rightful owners. There is a question as to who owns some of the larger items.”

“The hotel, owned by Alpine-Saranac Inc., owed over $18,000 in back taxes, accumulated over a period of four years. As of next month, Franklin County will be a co-owner when they foreclose for their share of the taxes.”

“Village Attorney Joseph Stephen announced last night that besides the taxes and basic mortgages, there were two recent chattel mortgages.”

“The first chattel mortgage was recorded on March 16 and 17 of 1962 and is by the Farmer’s National Bank in Malone. It covers most of the furniture, a dishwasher, coffeemaker, water heater, oil burner and exhaust fan.”

“The second mortgage was recognized just last month on November 6 when Francis Casier took a chattel mortgage on the furnace, oil burner, elevator, aluminum windows and fire escape. At the same time, Mr. Casier bought these items for a consideration of $1. The amount of debt to be secured by Mr. Casier was $7,500.”

“After long discussions the board had decided to take immediate possession because if they allowed the hotel to stay open and someone had been hurt the village would be liable. The village will heat the building and keep it locked until the county joins them in seeking disposal of the property.”

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The Alpine Hotel in 1946

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My history with the Hotel Alpine goes back to 1946, when I worked there as a bellhop. The place was “jumping,” as the language of the time would describe it, because it was the dormitory for the very first class at Paul Smith’s College.

That class had 101 World War II veterans out of a class of about 200 going to school on the G.I. Bill. Here were combat veterans, most still only in their early 20s and partying until the wee hours. Do you think that maybe created some interesting times for a 16-year-old bellhop? The guys could not have been nicer, treating me like I was their pal, and outgoing to everyone. I was still in high school, so the weekends and evenings, my work made me witness to some of their best times.

Among my other duties as a bellhop was operating the manual controlled elevator. The trick was to stop it level with the floor so the guests exiting the elevator would not have to step up or down, and one always had to say, “Watch your step” because the elevator was almost never even with the floor. The operator had to sort of jerk the power handle that, in turn, jerked the elevator to try to get it even with the floor, and sometimes in that process it was comical watching the men and especially the women jiggling up and down.

Minnie was the African-American cook at the Alpine, although she would have laughed if I ever referred to her with that term. She was also my pal.

A couple of times she called me into the kitchen (I went to work at 7 a.m.) to run down to the Oxford Market to buy eggs while guests were sitting in the dining room waiting for their breakfast.

Mr. Effenbach owned the market, and even though I wore a jacket that said “Alpine Hotel Bellman” on the pocket, he would ask in a cool accent, “Are you from the Hotel St. Jesus?” The Hotel St. Regis was on the opposite corner from the Alpine, and of course he was just teasing me.

I would be a nervous wreck, knowing that the guests were in the dining room and the cook still didn’t have any eggs … and I would be explaining to Mr. Effenbach that I was from the Hotel Alpine … etc.

Only four floors of the Alpine were ever finished. The top three stories of the seven-story hotel were just framed out for rooms but all open. A short-lived weekly newspaper had offices up there, and there was also an artist’s studio, but I don’t remember much else about the place.