An afternoon in East Concord, NY
Inside the town of Concord, New York is the hamlet of East Concord. With a population of 1400, East Concord had a generic post office, a church, a volunteer fire station, and a rather pathetic “Professional Center.” The one restaurant in town had closed due to COVID, but there were a series of farm stands, one of which served BBQ chicken.
I sidled up to John, who was cooking massive racks of quartered chicken over four firepits. “The best part about Concord…. I don’t know, well there ain’t nothing here that I don’t like about it. The terrain is good; you got good water; you have all four seasons; it’s beautiful really.” It’s getting more developed. I don’t like it. A lot of the little farms around here are going out of business. The only way they can retire is to sell off their fields. So now a nice 200-acre farm is getting developed with so many houses. That’s really the only bad thing I see.”
I sidled up to John, who was cooking massive racks of quartered chicken over four firepits. “The best part about Concord…. I don’t know, well there ain’t nothing here that I don’t like about it. The terrain is good; you got good water; you have all four seasons; it’s beautiful really.” It’s getting more developed. I don’t like it. A lot of the little farms around here are going out of business. The only way they can retire is to sell off their fields. So now a nice 200-acre farm is getting developed with so many houses. That’s really the only bad thing I see.”
Looking for signs of life, I drove toward the edge of town. I had taken some pictures, and interviewed one guy. That counted as a visit to this Concord. I was resigned to the idea that East Concord would be one of those communities that just didn’t sing a song. So I hit the accelerator and headed back to our B&B. As I sped along, I passed a couple of metal buildings with a sign
TOWN HALL PARKING →
← POLICE PARKING
There was a truck and a car in the driveway and a couple of guys talking, so I had to turn around, park, and check it out. While one guy took one look at me and hopped into his truck, and took off, Chris greeted me like he had been expecting company. I sat down on his extra folding chair and tried to figure out if this unlikely character was he was the mayor or police chief of East Concord. It turns out he was neither. Chris shared his dilemma about whether to go to a local folk festival the next day. “I’m a drummer, and I buy and sell old drums, but it might rain, and I don’t have a tent.”
Chris made a living making road signs for local communities, but his passion was for buying, refinishing, and selling old drums. He was in the middle of an eBay auction for a vintage drum, and we examined the images of tension rods and butts and lugs and shells and batter heads. I also had a full introduction to the manufacturing history of drums. They used to be made locally in Buffalo and nationally, but now only Gretsch drums are made in the US. The rest are imported from Asia, mainly China.
It wasn’t how I planned to spend my afternoon, but I had never met anyone who made signs or brought and sold drums. This is the beauty of the randomness of this project.
It wasn’t how I planned to spend my afternoon, but I had never met anyone who made signs or brought and sold drums. This is the beauty of the randomness of this project.