Follensby Great Camp contents auctioned

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August 27, 2007

Anonymous The Press Republican Mon Aug 27, 2007, 12:00 AM EDT

Contents of White Birches lodge at Follensby Pond sold at public auction

By KIM SMITH DEDAM

TUPPER LAKE --The rapid-fire lilt of the auctioneer's voice raced through the tents. And piles of Adirondack history were cast to the four winds.

Private contents of the sprawling White Birches lodge at Follensby Pond -- amassed over a century by two wealthy owners -- took five hours to sell, down to the last rustic trinket.

Remnants of the Great Camp's antique telephone system (which still worked a few days earlier), ice-box amenities and stuffed game adornments were relieved of the great room, kitchen, boathouse and 23 lodge rooms that slept 27.

Spread out on tables, 100 years of mystery seemed solved. Ghosts of Adirondack glory days escaped from drawers that stilled smelled of wind-blown linen.

An ancient stillness clung to Navaho rugs used to cover the camp walls. Two perfect handmade Theodore Hanmer (father of legendary boatbuilder Willard) guide boats sold in a wild 10 minutes for $24,000 apiece.

The buyer quietly declined interviews.

A starred-and-striped six-foot wooden shield molded to fit the stern of an 1812 warship, literally a piece of American history, went for $18,000. And dozens of pieces of L&JG Stickley arts and crafts furniture fetched anywhere from $5,000 to $12,000.

An inkwell into that Calvin Coolidge likely once dipped a pen sold for $4,750.

The original leather mailbag, delivered daily by boat, created a frenzy.

"Hey Doug, check inside that thing," auctioneer Kip Blanchard quipped between bids that closed at $5,500.

A grizzly bear rug fetched just over $1,000.

And a lion pelt rug, its head attached and frozen in a 100-year-old roar sold for thousands more.

A 1956 ChrisCraft wooden motorboat wooed a buyer for $28,000.

It had never been registered, Blanchard said, because its owner John McKenzie had his own lake.

"We'll help you get it registered," he told eager bidders.

Nearly 400 people had signed up Saturday to vie for a bit of history. In the sticky August afternoon, some ate hot dogs as others collected exotic animal mounts, ogled a 10-pound stuffed perch or turned over teacups.

Everyone heard the oriental dinner gong.

Auction paddles flashed from shirt pockets at Druggett Rugs made by Gustave Stickley, Currier & Ives dinnerware, and summer green Depression glass dishes.

Despite prices that dazzled many, the entire cost of contents couldn't have bought the two hours' preview. For a while anyway, the long-hidden, unsold Adirondack treasures seemed to belong to everyone.

Sinking into weather-beaten Westport style chairs, wistful buyers imagined the famed Philosopher's Camp view at Follensby Pond.

"These were outside for a long time," said one guest, stroking the bleached gray arm.

The 1812 ship's shield was a center of attention. It had been a gift from Mrs. Lila Webb at Shelburne Farms to the Barbour family after they built White Birches in 1913.

The shield's bowsprit counterpart resides at Shelburne Museum, Blanchard said.

Still vibrant red, white and blue, the paint had been retouched decades ago by famed watercolorist Ogden Pleissner.

Eight miles and 45 minutes past the auction site, White Birches lodge presides over the five-mile length of Follensby Pond in a 14,500 acre private "park."

It is one of the most untouched places on earth.

When they first walked through the door, Blanchard said, it was like stepping back 80 years in time.

Nothing had ever been moved.

"It's been a mystery for years; hardly anyone has been in there. These are all original furnishings that the Barbour family bought new. Mr. McCormick just doesn't use them anymore."

Local caretakers have kept the place intact.

The contents were all sold by nods in numbered lots.

"If you don't pay attention, you don't get it," Kip's father, Kermit, said.

Patrick Holland, of North Bangor, left with a four-foot birch bark-covered, zinc-lined drink cooler he bought for $500.

"I'll bring it out for socializing," he said, smiling. "It's a conversation piece."

One can only imagine the hollow echo left inside White Birches, empty now at the encroaching edge of wilderness.