I held hearings this past week in Canton, NY. Canton was chosen for hearings because it is somewhat centrally located in the part of the state colloquially known as The North Country. This distinct geographic area is the northern-most part of New York. The north country runs along the Canadian border down the St. Lawrence River valley from Watertown to the Thousand Islands to Ogdensburg then Massena. Then it leaves the river to follow the inland border to Rouses Point at the top of Lake Champlain. It forms a narrow band just north of the more rugged and mostly wooded Adirondacks. The land here is generally flat and open – thin soils on top of limestone. The primary occupation is dairy farming. There's a little light industry, some state prisons, and a few colleges. In the past decade Amish farmers have bought a substantial number of farms. Their horse-drawn buggies are everywhere. The St. Lawrence Seaway provides some port and lock jobs. The Akwesasne Mohawk reservation spans part of the border with a casino, a bingo hall, tax-free cigarettes and allegedly an active smuggling operation. There is a big Border Patrol presence.
It's hard to make a good living in the north country. A great deal of the work is part-time and seasonal. To be financially independent everyone needs at least two jobs.
The SSA hearings are held in a conference room at the Canton Best Western Hotel on the edge of the St. Lawrence University golf course. I hauled two briefcases of portable computer equipment in from my car and my hearing clerk, Pat, set up the room. SSA also hires a security guard from the private security firm Wackenhut to protect me from who knows what.
After all our preparations the claimant in my first case of the day didn't show up. This gave me a chance to get a cup of coffee and relax for a few minutes. I struck up a conversation with Steve Fisher, my security guard for the next three days. I discovered Steve had retired from the Ogdensburg Police Department a few years earlier at the age of 47. He a stocky youthful looking guy with a round face, his sandy hair cut into a dutch-boy with bangs. I asked him how he got the security job.
“Well, I was over at the Social Security office visiting my wife who works there. The manager for Wackenhut happened to be there that day. He asked me if I'd want to do part-time security work, and gave me an application. I took it home to look at, but it was a big packet of papers, so I tossed it into the cupboard. A week later he called me to ask why I hadn't sent in my application. I told him I was too busy to fill out all the paperwork. A week or so later he called again and told me he had set up an interview down in Syracuse. I drove down. After the interview they asked if I would be available so many days a month. I asked how much they paid and they showed me a chart. I told them for that much money I'd be available anytime. They hired me on the spot and here I am.”
I felt sure Steve had at least one other part-time job. He admitted he did own a few rental units around Ogdensburg and that kept him busy some of the time. When I asked if that was all he did, he remembered that he and another guy also did some snow plowing. “We do about a hundred places, by the job only. No contracts, when you have a contract they think they own you.” His main job, however, is his restaurant, Fish'er Chips.
When he retired from the PD he bought a former sporting goods store in downtown Ogdensburg. It's a small concrete block building. He tore out everything inside and remodeled. He scored a complete, nearly new, stainless steel stove hood for next to no money, but needed to move it. He told me the biggest issue was the built-in fire retardant system. He wasn't entirely sure how to take it apart and accidently set it off spraying himself and some of the ductwork with chemicals. He talked to friends across the river in Canada and got the recipes and procedures for first-rate fish and chips. He set up picnic tables outside for summer. His father agreed to work for him. As the local Dairy Queen had recently closed, he decided to add ice cream to the menu. He sweet talked the former Dairy Queen manager to come work for him. The Amish haul off his used cooking oil. He wasn't exactly sure what they do with it.
He was justifiably proud of what he had accomplished, building the place with his own hands from scratch. “On a nice summer day they're five deep in there.”
He opens for the season on Ash Wednesday. “Ogdensburg is a Catholic town, what with two cathedrals and all. You got to be open for Lent.”
He had not yet gotten in his ice cream supplies for the season, and lamented the recent warm weather that had brought in customers seeking ice cream. “The walkers were on the streets yesterday,” he told me on Wednesday. “I wish I had ice cream. I hope to be ready early next week.”
Perhaps his best decision was to paint two murals on the outside of the restaurant. “This high school girl I knew came in and asked if she could paint a wall as a class project. After a bit she convinced me and I paid for the paint. She did an aquarium. It turned out really neat and people liked it. The next summer she wanted to do some more, so I suggested an octopus holding up the things we sell. Now there's a purple octopus all around the front door. Kids love it. She did a really great job. I gave her some money to help with college.”
Of course I told Merry this story. She drove up, photographed the murals and had lunch there the next day. Before she got back, Steve's dad called him on his cell phone.
“Your wife liked our sweet potato fries.”
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