Back to nature: The house in the park at the end of Bayswater | Capital New York | by Katharine Jose

VICTORIA AND JOE GREENIDGE, THE LAST TENANTS of what  would later become a part of Bayswater Point State Park, were somewhat  eccentric, by most accounts. They did not live in the actual Sunset  Lodge, the big house; they made a home in the now-collapsed former  stable behind it.
Joe Greenidge was a journalist who worked for Reuters, and the more  conventional of the two, which is to say only that he went to work every  and came home from work every day, when he wasn’t traveling.
Victoria Greenidge had long white hair she wore down most of the  time, transclucent skin, pale blue eyes one of her former neighbors  described as “angelic,” and, late in life, only a few teeth. She was a  former ballet dancer, born outside Boston in 1901 as Victoria Josephson.
For a while she had 13 dogs that she would walk around the  property—she had a habit of wearing her husband’s overalls—all of them  unleashed except one, the most vicious, one that looked like it might be  part coyote, which she kept on a thick leash.
Every night Joe would arrive, in his Renault Dolphin, at the gate  that shielded the driveway and stop and honk his horn—sometimes for as  long as 15 minutes—until Victoria came up from the small house and  unlocked it, as though he was warning her that he was home. After  Victoria opened the gate, Joe would park in front of the big house, take  a stack of the day’s newspapers out of the car, and take them inside.
“Every once in a while I could get  a glimpse through that open door  in the house,” said Mickey Cohen, a former assistant principal at Beach  Channel High School who has lived in his house by the park, with his  wife, for 50 years. “It was just loaded with newspapers. Ceiling-high  newspapers. And I learned later on that there were channels, you know,  in the hallways, that he would follow—little pathways—because the place  was compacted with this collection of newspapers.”

Back to nature: The house in the park at the end of Bayswater | Capital New York | by Katharine Jose

VICTORIA AND JOE GREENIDGE, THE LAST TENANTS of what would later become a part of Bayswater Point State Park, were somewhat eccentric, by most accounts. They did not live in the actual Sunset Lodge, the big house; they made a home in the now-collapsed former stable behind it.

Joe Greenidge was a journalist who worked for Reuters, and the more conventional of the two, which is to say only that he went to work every and came home from work every day, when he wasn’t traveling.

Victoria Greenidge had long white hair she wore down most of the time, transclucent skin, pale blue eyes one of her former neighbors described as “angelic,” and, late in life, only a few teeth. She was a former ballet dancer, born outside Boston in 1901 as Victoria Josephson.

For a while she had 13 dogs that she would walk around the property—she had a habit of wearing her husband’s overalls—all of them unleashed except one, the most vicious, one that looked like it might be part coyote, which she kept on a thick leash.

Every night Joe would arrive, in his Renault Dolphin, at the gate that shielded the driveway and stop and honk his horn—sometimes for as long as 15 minutes—until Victoria came up from the small house and unlocked it, as though he was warning her that he was home. After Victoria opened the gate, Joe would park in front of the big house, take a stack of the day’s newspapers out of the car, and take them inside.

“Every once in a while I could get a glimpse through that open door in the house,” said Mickey Cohen, a former assistant principal at Beach Channel High School who has lived in his house by the park, with his wife, for 50 years. “It was just loaded with newspapers. Ceiling-high newspapers. And I learned later on that there were channels, you know, in the hallways, that he would follow—little pathways—because the place was compacted with this collection of newspapers.”

"The point is, when journalists are called on to redirect the corporate culture of an organization, sometimes it works in a small way, but usually it doesn’t; and almost never on a vast scale. If management’s idea for a brand overhaul is to import cool, or gravitas, or intelligence, the best-case scenario is almost always that the importees exist successfully but completely separately: valuable parts that don’t add much to the sum. (Part Two is they always leave.)"

Tom McGeveran on Huffington’s cultural revolution at AOL. There are so many quotable passages in this piece that it was hard to pick just one. We recommend you read the whole thing.

Tags: long reads