September + October 2019 ADIRONDACK LIFE 63
1820s. A mining operation began, and a
village known as McIntyre was estab-
lished. The mine closed in 1856, and a
hunting and fishing club began to use
the area near Henderson Lake. In 1901,
Teddy Roosevelt was visiting the club
when he learned that President McKin-
ley had been shot. In 1940, National Lead
Company began mining titanium a few
miles away. Workers and their families
repopulated the Upper Works buildings,
which became known as Tahawus. In
1963, workers were transferred, and the
village was abandoned again.
It would take me over two hours to
reach Tahawus from my home near
Schenectady, but photos of the village’s
remaining homes enticed me. What bet-
ter place to forget about my life than a
ghost town on a lonely road?
When I arrived, I found the parking
lot packed with hikers and cars. This
was hardly a ghost town.
I headed off to photograph the ruins,
which were set back from the road and
shrouded by trees. Maybe here, I could
catch the isolation I’d been craving.
Most of the buildings were a strong wind
away from collapse. One was missing an
entire side, giving a cross-section view
of the interior, like a dollhouse. There
was still paint on the walls. There were
bathtubs, cupboards and fireplaces.
There were also lichen, rust, moss, buck-
led floors and shattered windows. Still,
it was easy to imagine people walking
around, gathering by the hearth, settling
down to sleep.
One of the plaques by the parking lot
had mentioned a nearby cemetery. I set
out to find it. Only steps into my search,
I stumbled upon a small group of white
flowers growing on white, waxy stems.
Ghost flowers—Monotropa uniflora. I had
read about them years ago. I crouched
down to get a better look. The flow-
er heads nodded like mourners. Ghost
flowers contain no chlorophyll, and
they don’t rely on the sun. They instead
siphon energy from underground fungi,
pulling pulses of life from death.
Continuing on, after about 10 minutes
I spotted an entryway fashioned from
plain wood boughs. The small cemetery
was overgrown with wind-licked ferns.
GARDEN TIME