Historic Designation for
Woodstock's Church on the Mount
Overview of Church History (from remarks by Town Historian
at celebration honoring desination)
Narrative from National Register of Historic Places
October 9, 2004
Remarks Made at Celebration Marking the Designation of the Church on the Mount as a Historic Landmark
By: Richard Heppner, Woodstock Town Historian
This is a special day for a very special place. As we look around at the simple beauty of this chapel and this spot, we can understand why so many have visited here over the years. And, we can better understand why fate - or faith - has worked its magic to insure its preservation.
This was a building crafted out of optimism. The optimism of a post-Civil War economy that believed the future of these mountains was in building mountain houses that would draw visitors here. But George Mead proprietor of the Mead's Mountain House, went even further. Mead believed that in addition to a place to stay, visitors should also have place to worship. And so it was that he built this chapel in 1891 for visitors to his establishment and for those who would also visit the Overlook Mountain House further up the mountain. Mead, by the way, was an Episcopalian.
That optimism, however, would be prove to be somewhat short lived as fire took the Overlook Mountain House from us and Meads Mountain House - along with others - struggled to attract paying customers.
But another visitor in 1902 would alter not only the future of this chapel, but the future of all Woodstock. On a May day in 1902, after hiking from the back side of the mountain, Bolton Brown, in search of a physical reality that would match Ralph Whiteheads vision for an art colony, encountered Mr. Mead at work right near here in his small apple orchard. At a time when you could still look down the mountain and see the village below, Brown inquired of Mead, "what is that place down there?" Mead, not one to engage in lengthy discourse, replied simply, why that is Woodstock village, sir. Later, when writing about the founding of the Byrdcliffe art colony, Brown would say of the moment:
It was from this place that I, like Balboa from his peak at Darien, first saw my South Sea. South indeed it was and wide and almost as blue as the sea. That extraordinarily beautiful view, amazing in its extent. This was the first I saw Woodstock, it looked good to me then; it has not ceased to do so.
And so, with Byrdcliffe, the artists came. Meads would become a favorite spot of theirs as they brought their creativity and their intellect to this mountain and to Woodstock. And, while Byrdcliffe might not have lived up to the expectations of Whitehead's vision, it's founding would mean a new life for this small chapel.
For it was in the 1930s when fate would once again bring another visitor to the mountain. Oddly enough, his journey would begin 3000 miles away - in California. There, while on vacation, Jane Whitehead, Ralph's Whitehead's wife, would meet a young priest by the name of Father Francis. Mrs. Whitehead was not only impressed with the man himself, but with the positive impact he seemed to have on her son Peter. Seeing in Father Francis a man who might provide the guidance her son needed, she urged him to come to Woodstock with her and, once here, take up his ministry in this chapel.
And so the chapel found new life in the work of Father Francis, a man who would battle the authority of no less an opponent than the Catholic Church. In fact, it was his leadership in the Old Catholic Church movement that would lead to the next chapter in this story. At the time, this church was under the authority of the Episcopalian Diocese in Albany. The church, however, had fallen into disrepair from lack of use. Yet, on hearing that Father Francis was here, and knowing of his efforts in the Old Catholic movement, there were objections to his presence. To settle the dispute, Jane Whitehead purchases the church, and the land around it, from the diocese.
Winters being what they are in Woodsotck, especially here on top of the mountain, Woodstockers often found it difficult to attend service here. So it was that Father Francis renovated an old barn along Route 212 and the corner of Chestnut Hill Road to serve as a more "accessible" chapel. He called his church St. Dunstans. During the war years, he held services there while, at the same time, he led efforts urging aid and help for the people of Poland and the Jews of Europe, as they faced the might of Hitler's insanity. With war's end, fate once again intervened in the life of this chapel as fire destroyed St. Dunstans and Father Francis returned to the mountain.
As time passed on the mountain, events would eventually converge to bring yet new visitors to Woodstock and this chapel. As America began to face the turmoil of sixties, Woodstock found itself as a small, glimmering light within the center of a storm. As members of the counterculture began to arrive, many of them taking up residence in our fields and forests, Woodstock itself turned uncharacteristically unwelcoming, as residents and officials tried to stem the tide of the unwanted hippies. It was then, through the humanity of Father Francis (who became known both in terms of praise and derision as the Hippie priest), that this chapel found new life as a place of welcome to those who, not unlike Father Francis himself, chose to strike out against authority.
In the mid-1970s, Peter Whitehead, understanding the value of this place and this mountain, had the foresight to offer this land to the Town of Woodstock. His conditions were simple, - in fact they only take up one paragraph in his will - keep the land forever wild and, as long as visitors continued to come to this chapel, the church would remain open.
Today, through the work of Father John and others, and despite the occasional ups and downs endemic to life in Woodstock, we are celebrating the remarkable past that Whitehead had hoped to preserve. But - while we celebrate the historic designation of this building, we cannot be satisfied that the work is done. Woodstock, and this mountain, as we have seen in this past year, face new challenges that require constant vigilance. Preservation is an everyday job and it is the responsibility of all Woodstockers. Most importantly, our work must not be reactive - but proactive. For, as Woodstock undergoes yet another transition towards second home owners and new visitors, we are facing a time when our historic resources need our careful attention more than ever.
When I became Town Historian, I purposely went out and spoke to many of the old timers I know. I wanted to hear their stories and their memories. Consistently in those conversations, however, I would hear the words "I remember," as they pointed to where a building once stood. As I said in a letter to the Woodstock Times not too long ago, as we faced the irony of this building being preserved and Meads Mountain House coming down, I am tired of the words "I remember." Woodstock history deserves our care. And, as visitors to this place today, we can offer no less.
Narrative from National Register of Historic Places:
