HALLOWEEN, 2000
It’s been
a quiet week up here on the lake, but
there was a lot of commotion a few
weeks back. Everyone was very
upset with the new addition to Clancey’s
sign. The main topic of discussion
over at the Eat-A-Lot Diner and at
the Bait-N-Brew was what to do about
the sign.
Stinky Williams
thought the sign was great, and wanted
someone to take his picture standing
beside it. Father Migliori was
so upset that he called Sheriff Wysocki
and demanded that he do something. Sheriff
Wysocki said there was nothing he could
do, seeing as how that was
Clancey’s profession. I guess I should
explain a little bit about Clancey’s.
Clancey McBeth
and his wife, Elizabeth McBeth (that’s
right, Beth McBeth, and she married
to the name--go figure) are both morticians. They
met and married in mortician school
and now run the Lakeside Funeral Parlor
and Crematorium--known locally as Clancey’s. Around
Oneida Lake, instead of saying, “He’s
gone to meet his maker” or “He’s
bought the Farm”, they say “He’s
gone to Clancey’s”.
Ever since they’ve
had the parlor, Clancey and Beth have
taken separate vacations. As
Beth says, “people don’t
stop dying, and you can’t just
leave them lying on the slab for two
weeks while you go off cavorting around
the countryside on vaction”
Beth likes to
go to Europe and has taken many vacations
to Paris, London, and other glamorous
Eurpoean cities. Clancey, on
the other hand, used to like to go
fishing, and traveled all over the
world on fishing trips. About
ten years ago, Clancey was on a fishing
trip in the Bahamas and tried scuba
diving and was “bitten by the
scuba diving bug”. Now
every chance he gets, he goes diving. Clancey
and his brother Thomas are the only
scuba divers here on the lake. It’s
many a time I have driven down Muskrat
Bay Road and seen Clancey walking out
to the lake in his diving gear. He
even has one of those diving flags
flying from his
mailbox. Everybody thinks he’s
sort of crazy to dive in Oneida Lake. At its deepest point, it’s
only 45 feet deep, and the water’s so clear you can see all the way
to the bottom. No need to dive down to see what’s there. But
Clancey really enjoys it. One of his favorite tricks is to sneak up
from under water on someone who is fishing and pull on the fishing line real
hard then pop up out of the water and scare the living daylights out of them.
Clancey’s
also on a quest (or was). Having
watched many specials on TV about people
searching for wrecks and treasure,
he had started his own search here
on Oneida Lake. Many years ago,
before they paved Route 31, Charlie
Kasoag (who was the Postmaster at the
time) used to run the mail up and down
on Oneida Lake in the winter from Sylvan
Beach to Brewerton on a mail sled--an
enclosed sled drawn by a horse. After
Route 31 was
paved, Charlie converted the old mail
sled into an ice fishing hut. One
year they forgot to bring it in before
the spring thaw and it sank.
Clancey’s
quest was to find that old sled. To
that end, he had outfitted his boat
with all sorts of depth finders, sonar
and radar devices. Somewhat excessive
for a lake that was only 45 feet deep
at its deepest spot and so clear you
can see to the bottom. Well,
the last weekend of September, Clancey
was out in his boat depthfinding, sonaring,
radaring and scuba diving around Clark
Bar and he found it. It was in
18 feet of water and clearly visible
from the surface.
Clancey and his
brother hauled the old sled out of
the water and carried it back to Clancey’s
house. When they finally got
around to cleaning it up and looking
inside it, they found a human skeleton. Clancey
was very excited with this find, especially
given the line of work he was in. It
was then he came up with the idea. He
had always thought that the sign at
the funeral parlor was very boring
and needed something to liven it up. Why
not hang the skeleton from the funeral
parlor sign? He spent the rest
of the weekend working on that skeleton
and on Monday morning, there it hung--a
full-size real human skeleton.
Beth McBeth was
furious. She demanded that he
take it down immediately, but Clancey
would have none of that. “Our
parlor will be known throughout the
county. We’ll have so much
business we’ll be able to add
that new wing we’ve been talking
about”, he told her.
By Friday, the
whole town was in a fray. Father
Migliori had the Catholic Women’s
group leading protests in front of
the parlor. The crowd over at
the Eat-A-Lot were trying to organize
a boycott--no one would die until Clancey
removed the skeleton. The boys
at the
Bait-N-Brew were going to sabotage
Clancey’s boat. Stinky
Williams was still trying to get someone to take his picture beside the sign. And
Beth had left for her mother’s, saying she wouldn’t return until
the skeleton was gone. Clancey was determined to stand his ground. That
was until the true identity of the skeleton was found out. As required
by law in New York State, when any unknown human body is discovered, a search
must be performed to find out the identity of the remains.
Clancey had reported
the find to Forrest Barton, the Onondaga
County Coroner. Forrest found
out (through the use of dental records)
that the skeleton was that of Reiley
Kasoag, a long lost Uncle of Charlie
Kasoag. All the Kasoags had thought
that Uncle Reiley had moved to Florida. Upon
finding out that the skeleton hanging
from Clancey's sign was that of their
Uncle, they were furious. They demanded
that Clancey remove it immediately
and they were planning to sue Clancey
for every penny he had. After
long negotiations and the removal of
the skeleton, and the promise by Clancey
to provide “the best funeral
ever seen on Oneida Lake” free
of charge, the Kasoags agreed not to
sue. Clancey was very disappointed. He
has since ordered a full size plastic
skeleton to hang from the sign.
And that’s
the news from Oneida Lake, where all
the men have gone hunting, all the
women have gone shopping, and on Saturday
mornings, all the children watch cartoons
on television.
Copyright © 2000, J. W. Kelly. All
rights reserved.