Ketchum Hotel - owned by the parents of Lala Ketchum - first wife of Henry Marean.
Ketchum Hotel
Contributed By: Charles Greenmun · 22 June 2013 · familysearch.org under Ephraim Ketchum.
Memoirs of Bernice Lala (Mooers) Greenmun about the Ketchum hotel in the village of Maine, New York operated by her uncle, Ephraim Ketchum.
The Ketchum hotel in Maine was a large, sprawling building with a barroom at one end, then a succession of rooms across the front, terminating in a suite of sitting room and two bedrooms. The long dining room with two very long dining tables ran across the back, with a door that opened onto a lawn with flower garden.
An extension-or ell-containing a music room, called that because it contained a piano, and the kitchen and pantry, also what seemed to me to be an unnecessary room because its spaciousness separated the dining room from the kitchen and made more steps in serving a meal. Then a corridor extending back from this room, with several bedrooms opening from it, one of which was my great-grandmother's. Upstairs was the big ballroom and numerous bedrooms and suites. At times large parties drove from "Union", now Endicott, for parties, and occasionally there were "shows" there. I remember the thrill of playing with Little Eva when "Uncle Tom's Cabin" came to town, complete with parade.
The hotel was furnished, as I well remember, with lots of lots of horsehair-upholstered chairs and settees, which were not too comfortable for a little girl with short skirts to sit on. No doubt much of the furnishings would be valuable as antiques today, but grandmother's hired man George Barnum, a Civil War veteran who claimed to be carrying some ammunition in his body, somehow managed to get everything in his name and, after grandmother's death, had an auction and father wouldn't let mother attend and bid anything in.
We spent much time at the hotel. On Sunday we always had dinner there following church and Sunday school. During the week we had the run of the place when there when there was no school, and could bring our friends in. Even the barroom was not forbidden territory, since all the men were working during the day. The bar, with its rows of bottles, didn't mean a thing to us.
A long dry sink ran along one wall and George Barnum would bring in many pails of water and fill a wooden, open tank with faucets above it, for filling the row of wash basins beneath, when men came in to wash before supper.
Outside the door at the foot of the stairs was a table with many oil lamps, filled and cleaned and wicks trimmed daily, so that each one sleeping there could carry one to his room.
A narrow porch along the front of the building had a row of chairs, so close to the wooden sidewalk that young ladies were embarrassed to walk down that side of the street.
Running back from the hotel site was quite an acreage of farm land on which vegetables were raised, and cattle and horses grazed.