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Mr. D. F. O'Connell:
Dear Sir: There is one thing that I remember happened on Glen street thirty years ago or a little earlier. I was employed at R. W. Sherman's store directly opposite Park street and one of the things we did for amusement when not busy was to go out on the back porch of the store with our .22 calibre rifles and shoot at a target fixed on the back of the old Opera House, then on Warren street.
In the basement of the building next to the Sherman store was the Glens Falls village jail and on the second floor was Police headquarters. When we were shooting the prisoners were watching from the cellar windows and the police standing in the windows upstairs were betting which of us had the best aim. Do you suppose they would allow anything like that these days?
Mrs. D. L. Cowles
192 South street
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Betting being tabooed by Section 1376 of the Penal Law, the police would not wager any money on a rifle match these days, Mrs. Cowles, but they would probably join in the shooting unless Bill O'Neil, stage manager at the Rialto, was afraid he would be winged by a stray bullet.
The writer remembers the old jail with its two cells and there comes to mind an interesting yarn about it. After being "keyed" for fighting in a saloon on the "Row" a prisoner berated the policeman who arrested him and expressed the hope that he would meet the cop sometime when the latter had no uniform, no gun, no club, etc. He would break him to pieces and then grind him into mince meat.
Finally the officers' patience cracked. Removing his coat. he tossed it into a corner and his gun with it. Then he unlocked the cell and invited the bellicose prisoner to step out. The latter did so, but a few minutes later he was only too glad to crawl back into the shelter of the cage to nurse a sore jaw and other bruises.
Your letter also brought recollections of Mr. Sherman's store, and of visits there for school supplies and marbles. because of the ability of R. W. to keep his eyes on every pair of hands, no matter how many of us trooped into the store at once, it was the height of our ambition to steal an alley, not because of any criminal tendencies, but merely to have something to brag about. One boy finally succeeded in getting one without paying for it and for more than a year he was a greater hero than the boy who could wiggle his ears or the chap who could count up to ten in the Indian language - at least he said it was Indian.Back to The Corners Home Page
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