The Hidden Side of Dallas: 5 Quirky Adventures

What to do in Dallas? Try these unusual gift experiences, from a murder mystery to racing in a Ferrari. 

When you think of Dallas, you might picture its towering skyline, bustling streets and that unmistakable Texas pride. 

But this city is more than what meets the eye. Beneath the iconic sights and well-worn tourist trails, there’s a softer, lesser-known side of things to do in Dallas waiting to be uncovered. 

“ There’s a quiet, hidden magic in Dallas if you’re willing to look for it. ”

Dallas invites you to look closer, wander a bit further and discover the unexpected. Here are five unique experiences that led me off the beaten path and into a different Dallas entirely — one I never saw coming.

1. Grapevine Lake Sunset Glow Clear Kayak Tour

There’s something magical when the sun starts its slow descent and paints the sky in shades of marigold and lavender. It’s like the whole world is holding its breath. I was there, in a see-through kayak, the kind that makes it feel like you’re barely floating above the surface, with the lake’s wake calmly lapping at the sides.

All around, the sky reflected off of the glass-like water, stirring the colors of twilight. And it wasn’t just gorgeous; it was humbling. For those quiet, perfect moments, it felt like the world shrunk — all that existed was me and the gentle hues swirling through the water. I’ve never experienced anything so pure. I’m not sure I ever will again.

2. Murder Mystery Dinner Show in Fort Worth

Then came the murder. I didn’t expect to fall in love with a murder mystery dinner. “I’m not that kind of person,” I thought, as a card pinned to my sundress announced my new role: potential suspect.

But then — mid-bite of my steak — the server slipped away, the lights dimmed, and diners at my table leaned in, exchanging hurried whispers. We were sure we’d cracked the case. And isn’t that the thrill? Strategizing for the solution in the midst of a story that’s still unfolding, woven between courses. Actors drifted in and out, someone in the corner laughed too loudly, while another guest quietly pieced together clues. It felt like stepping into a play — without ever having learned my lines. We were all in it together, strangers turned co-conspirators. My team lost, I think, but by the time we surrendered, I was all in, laughing harder than I had in years.

3. Italian Supercar Racing Experience at Texas Motor Speedway

I don’t quite know how to explain what it feels like to drive a Ferrari. Once it’s in gear, sure, it’s all flash, speed and horsepower. But there’s something else — a feeling in your arms, a pull in your chest. It’s as if the road beyond the track has vanished, and the whole world is somewhere outside of you. Champagne bubbles in the pit of your belly; there’s just the car and the low, thrilling growl of the engine beneath you. It’s… intimate. That’s the best way to describe it — intimate and intense, an unexpected emotion for a souped-up machine. Alive? Yes, alive — fully, fiercely, incandescently alive.

4. Zipline and Treetop Adventures

If one thing brought out my inner child, it was ziplining through the treetops. The rush of air as I flew, the way everything below blurred, and the laughter that bubbled up when I landed on a platform more than 60 feet above the ground. The silences up there, the open emptiness, the blend of exhilaration and peace, the feeling of flying while being connected to something real.

It’s when you’re standing still, high above, surrounded by sky and leaves, that the magic truly happens. That’s when the perspective hits — how far you’ve come, how high you are, how small you feel, and how incredibly good that is.

5. Fluid Art Workshop

I had no expectations going into the fluid art workshop. I showed up with a blank canvas (literally) and an open mind. The instructor pointed me in the right direction to start, and then it was just me, some colors and a quiet space — to pour paint, to watch it blend and bleed, with no rules, no wrong ways, no real… anything other than watching the colors mix and mingle.

For two hours, I didn’t think about anything other than where the paint was going, how it was moving. I watched the canvas come alive, and when it was over, I wasn’t just walking away with a painting; I was walking away with a feeling. A sense of peace. A sense of having let go of everything and just… been. It was art therapy, minus the therapy part.

Rediscovering Dallas

Dallas isn’t just for the big moments, the big ideas, the grand experiences. There’s a quiet, hidden magic in Dallas if you’re willing to look for it. And for me, those experiences weren’t just about doing them. They were about finding myself in them, learning what it means to slow down, to do something new, and to let myself be present in a moment that’s anything but ordinary. And that’s why experience gifts are the best way to explore Dallas. Because they reveal a side of the city — and maybe a side of yourself — you didn’t know was there.

And while these experiences led me to unexpected self-discoveries, they’re also unforgettable gift ideas for others. With each unique adventure, you’re offering a chance to see the city from a new angle, and maybe even a little self-discovery of their own. –Maria Nowak

Weird and Wonderful Woodstock, New York

Woodstock unplugged: The site of the 1969 music festival is an artsy, laidback town in the Hudson Valley, where cool shops, great eats and local treasures abound.

A glimpse of the adorable backyard of Tinker Taco along Tannery Brook in Woodstock, New York

When you hear the name Woodstock, do you picture Snoopy’s little yellow sidekick from the Peanuts comic strip, or do peace-loving hippies, patchouli and that legendary rock and folk music festival held in the summer of 1969 come to mind?

Well, here’s the twist, man: Technically, the historic lovefest didn’t even happen in Woodstock! It actually took place on a 600-acre dairy farm, in the neighboring town of Bethel, about 60 miles southwest. Although it was a success in terms of cultural significance, it was a logistical failure — there wasn’t enough food or enough toilets. But according to Wally, they were high, they were hippies, and they couldn’t have cared less.

Despite this misconception, I imagine Woodstock had a better ring to it than Bethel, and the name stuck. 

Papa, Wally and Duke on Tannery Brook Bridge, enjoying their time in Woodstock, New York

Woodstock’s laidback, artistic spirit continues to evolve and thrive, and this small town, nestled in the foothills of the Catskill Mountains along the Hudson River, turned out to be exactly the vibe we were looking for during our four-day Hudson Valley weekend.

Read on for our list of our favorite spots along Mill Hill Road and Tinker Street in the charming burg of Woodstock, including a couple of recommendations on where to stop and refuel along the way. 

Tinker Street and Mill Hill Road

The main thoroughfares of Woodstock are Tinker Street and Mill Road, a walkable stretch lined with locally owned shops, restaurants, galleries and other businesses catering to residents and visitors alike. 

The Mud Club 

We started our day at the Mud Club (a nod to the famously muddy aforementioned festival in Bethel). We headed straight to the hulking brown barn to order four of their Montreal-style bagels from the service window. 

Established in 2017 by brothers Nicolas and Gray Ballinger, along with their father Doug, their irregularly shaped hand-rolled bagels are briefly poached in honey-sweetened water and baked in a wood-fired oven, resulting in a bagel with a crisp exterior and a denser chew than a New York-style bagel. 

The Mud Club vibe? Think rustic yet quirky mountain lodge with a side of artisanal coffee. Their rotating selection of single-origin beans, sourced from regions like Ethiopia, Kenya, Peru and Honduras, expertly roasted by Brooklyn-based Mud Club, are sure to satisfy even the most discerning caffeine connoisseur.

The Mud Club
43 Mill Hill Road

Bread Alone Bakery

You know what they say: Man cannot live on bread alone. But if we did — we’d be happy getting our sustenance at Bread Alone. Even though we had already eaten bagels at Mud Club, we couldn’t resist stopping at this local bakery. What started as an entrepreneurial endeavor by artisan baker and educator Daniel Leader in the early ’80s, with loaves being sold out of the trunk of the family station wagon, has grown into a trailblazing bakery with a big following, with additional locations in Boiceville and Rhinebeck. 

This is the place to find an assortment of breads made with certified organic grains milled in Halifax, Pennsylvania, along with a pastry counter filled with sweet and savory treats. I purchased a chocolate caramel cake to enjoy later for Wally’s birthday, and trust me — it was a winner!

Bread Alone Bakery
22 Mill Hill Road

Candlestock

Beyond the white picket fence with yellow flame-topped posts at 16 Mill Hill Road is Candlestock, a one-of-a-kind family-owned business offering a wide selection of beeswax, drip and handmade candles in every shape, size and color imaginable. 

Wally and I purchased a few hand-dipped tapers and were in awe of the impressive, rainbow-colored “Drip Mountain,” a towering 8-foot-high by 3-foot-wide wax creation dramatically lit by blacklight that has been steadily growing since 1969. 

Candlestock
16 Mill Hill Road

The Golden Notebook 

This small but impressive independently owned bookshop, named after the original owner’s favorite Doris Lessing novel, has been a local staple for nearly five decades. Among the shelves and tables, you’ll find a mix of popular and rare titles spanning both fiction and nonfiction, as well as a selection of signed books and graphic novels by acclaimed author Neil Gaiman. His writing often features darkly whimsical themes, complex characters and richly imagined worlds.

A section at the front of the shop is dedicated to local history and the surrounding Hudson Valley, with a selection that highlights the region’s storied past. 

Whether you’re looking for books for adults or children, you’ll easily find your next read among the thoughtfully curated selections on display.

The Golden Notebook
29 Tinker Street

Timbuktu 

You’ve probably heard or even uttered the phrase, “from here to Timbuktu” to describe a faraway place. Well, just a few doors down from the Golden Notebook is a shop with that name, filled with global and one-of-a-kind goods. You’ll find a diverse array of handmade home goods, pillows, quilts and jewelry by the shop’s owner, Jaime Surgil. Wally and I especially loved the whimsical aquatint etchings by New York-based artist Stephen Francis Duffy. Whether you’re browsing or buying, you’re likely to leave this boutique feeling inspired.

Timbuktu
2 Tannery Brook Road

Woodstock Leisure Syndicate 

When Wally and I spotted a sign across the street with two bears hugging beneath a radiant moon, we had to check it out. It turned out to be tied to the concept shop Woodstock Leisure Syndicate, a collaborative project by the design duo Grant Krajecki and Ryan Kelly.

The shop is housed in the historic Old Forge House, a building that formerly served as the village blacksmith’s workshop and home. Stop by to browse quilted seating upholstered in nylon, as well as apparel, books, artwork and chunky, oversized Grey Ant eyewear — designed in New York by Krajecki and produced in Italy. I especially loved their playful take on the classic smiley logo, with “NY” for the eyes and “Woodstock” forming the smile. It’s available as a patch, tie-dyed T-shirt and super soft hoodie.

Woodstock Leisure Syndicate 
54C Tinker Street

Tinker Taco

By this time, we had worked up an appetite and decided to try the cute spot we had seen earlier. Plus, you can never go wrong with Mexican. 

To reach Tinker Taco, you have to walk behind the Old Forge. It’s a relaxed, order-at-the-bar-and-find-a-seat kind of place. We chose a picnic table on the banks of Tannery Brook, a stream that runs through town. 

The tortillas are handmade from local non-GMO corn, and the taco options range from chicken to barbacoa to vegetarian. Plus, the frozen margaritas are muy ricas!

Tinker Taco
54 Tinker Street

Village Green Bed & Breakfast 

In the center of Woodstock, you’ll find a small square and a charming storybook Victorian B&B. Known as the Village Green, it features the fantastical assemblages Merlin and Fantasy Boy, whose faces are embellished with hundreds of lustrous glass beads and whose bodies are covered in ceramic figurines, which instantly caught our attention. 

Village Green Bed & Breakfast
12 Tinker Street 

Tinker Toys Too

Tinker Toys Too, named after the street, not the toy, has been delighting kids of all ages for over three decades, thanks to its owner, Suki Beeh. Whether you’re looking for stuffed animals, storybooks, or educational wooden puzzles and games, you’ll find imaginative items throughout the store. Every shelf is filled with a delightful selection of classic and new toys, from Colorforms to Kewpie-like Sonny Angel figurines. These are toys made to last for years of play and discovery.

Tinker Toys Too
5 Mill Hill Road

WAAM (Woodstock Artists Association & Museum) 

WAAM, bam, thank you ma’am! This gallery is a great spot if you’re looking for a break from shopping. Since 1919, WAAM has been showcasing an eclectic mix of local talent and celebrating Woodstock’s long history as an arts haven. Whether you’re into paintings, sculptures or photography, there’s always something fresh to catch your eye. The museum also houses an impressive permanent collection, featuring works by notable artists like Milton Avery and Yasuo Kuniyoshi, giving you a peek into the creative roots that helped shape this quirky town. There’s a $10 suggested donation. 

WAAM (Woodstock Artists Association & Museum)
28 Tinker Street

Casa Ziki

The eye-catching entrance of Casa Ziki drew us in like a brightly colored flower attracting a pair of hummingbirds. There was no turning back once we saw the Georgian-style pediment, awash in a combination of tangerine and lavender — a custom design by the local duo Headspace. It definitely sets the tone for what awaits within. 

This modern homewares boutique, with locations in Brooklyn and Woodstock, is co-owned by wife and husband Sylvanna Kiss and Sasha Zinshtein. Inside, you’ll find a colorful selection of well-designed décor, playful accessories, lighting, art and pieces by local makers. Whether you’re shopping for yourself or someone else, you won’t regret stopping by.

Casa Ziki
35 Mill Hill Road

Early Terrible

We ended our delightful day in Woodstock at Early Terrible, the wine and cocktail bar and sister property next door to the Mud Club. A twisted column topped with a silver tankard and a peculiar-looking ogre (or perhaps a golem or troll?) peeking out from behind it marked the start of the gravel path that led us there.

The interior is dark and moody, while the patio fits in with the whimsical aesthetic that’s simultaneously rustic and glam. It’s filled with delightful details, from glittering disco balls and weathered wood planks to tufted leather couches and ornate cut-glass chandeliers. 

A sprawling root structure climbs above the bar and stretches outward, leaving you feeling as if you’ve followed Alice down the rabbit hole and tumbled into a magical place.

The cocktail menu offers an imaginative selection of signature drinks. I ordered the Smoke Signals, a blend of Banhez mezcal, a dash of amaro, tamarind purée and pineapple in a glass rimmed with a smoky house-made chili salt, while Wally opted for the Bramble, a refreshing concoction made with gin, crème de cassis and lemon juice. My parents each ordered beer, and the four of us shared a wood-fired sourdough pizza. Note: If you’re visiting on a weekday, don’t get your hopes up — pizza is only served on the weekends.

Early Terrible
45 Mill Hill Road

Feeling Groovy

Woodstock turned out to be our favorite spot in the Hudson Valley. The town’s blend of artistic spirit, quirky shops and laidback atmosphere make it the perfect place to explore and chill. Whether you’re browsing the boutiques or taking in some local art, it’s hard not to fall under Woodstock’s groovy spell. –Duke

Vanderbilt Mansion: Gilded Age Opulence in the Hudson Valley

Explore the Vanderbilt Mansion National Historic Site in Hyde Park, New York, with its original furnishings and garden. 

Vanderbilt Mansion National Historic Site

We call it the Hamptons for Brooklynites. The Hudson Valley is known for its charming small towns, cultural attractions, natural beauty — and close proximity to New York City. And since Wally and I were spending a long weekend with my parents in this part of New York state, I was eager to find something we’d all enjoy doing together. 

Wally, Duke and Poppa hang out before their tour.

No trip with my parents is complete without touring at least one historic landmark, and the region has plenty to choose from. Unfortunately, Olana, the Persian-inspired house museum of Frederic Edwin Church — a major figure of the Hudson River School of American landscape painters — was temporarily closed in preparation for an upcoming exhibit, so we opted for the Gilded Age “country house” of another Frederick.

This particular Frederick was the third son of William Henry Vanderbilt and grandson of the self-made multimillionaire, Cornelius “Commodore” Vanderbilt — the man who inspired the term “robber baron” and amassed the family fortune in shipping and railroads. To me, the Vanderbilt family is synonymous with extraordinary wealth, designer jeans and one silver fox, aka Anderson Cooper. So as a “Duke” myself, it seemed only fitting to visit one of Dutchess County’s most notable estates. 

Mema and Poppa are always up for a good time.

The turn-of-the-century mansion turned national historic site is perched on a natural bluff high above the Hudson River on the outskirts of Hyde Park, New York, about six miles north of Poughkeepsie on Route 9, and is a short distance from Springwood, the birthplace and lifelong home of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the 32nd president of the United States.

The Pavilion, now used as the Visitor’s Center, was constructed in just 60 days. 

The Pavilion

Our first stop after arriving was the Visitor’s Center, a Georgian Colonial structure with a captain’s walk and porticos supported by Doric columns. These columns are actually brick pillars concealed by a material called staff, a mixture of plaster, jute fibers and horsehair. Often described as “counterfeit marble,” staff is cast into molds to resemble carved marble. The same material used to cover the buildings of the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, Illinois. 

Originally referred to as the Pavilion, it was built in just 66 working days after the Vanderbilts acquired the property in May 1895. It replaced the Langdon Carriage House and served as the living quarters for Frederick and Louise while they oversaw the construction of the main house.

To prevent scandals, single men visiting the property would stay in the Pavilion, while unattached women slept in the nearby mansion.

Inside, Wally and I purchased tickets for the guided tour which were $15 per person, though my dad used his U.S. National Parks annual pass for military veterans to get my mom and him in for free.

The interior is styled like a gentlemen’s sporting lodge, complete with a large central fireplace and walls displaying a collection of mounted trophy heads of animals. It should be noted that Frederick himself didn’t hunt and strictly prohibited hunting on the property. 

The building later served as the guesthouse for male visitors — you couldn’t have single men and single women sleeping under the same roof, after all. 

Before our tour of the historic home, we followed a path leading to the formal gardens. As we crossed the expansive, meticulously manicured lawn in front of the mansion, I noticed my father admiring its orderly nature and could imagine him daydreaming of riding his latest John Deere lawn mower over it.

The marble fountain, depicting a young boy stepping on the head of an unusual-looking dolphin, has been restored.

The Formal Gardens

The gardens and grounds reflect the passion for horticulture shared by the estate’s previous owners. In the early 1800s, Samuel Bard established gardens and a greenhouse filled with native and exotic plants. He imported trees, flowers, herbs and shrubs from across Europe and Asia. The lone ginkgo tree standing in the middle of the south lawn is believed to have been planted by him in 1799. 

Dramatic pergolas form a grand entrance to the gardens.

Bard’s approach was influenced by the principles of picturesque landscape design, which he studied during his time in Edinburgh, Scotland. Incidentally, as a doctor, he also performed a life-saving operation on the newly inaugurated President George Washington in 1789, removing a large and painful tumor from his left thigh.

Each year, volunteers plant around 6,000 annuals in the formal gardens.

After Bard’s death, his son sold the estate to his father’s former business partner, David Hosack, also an accomplished physician and avid horticulturist. Hosack was a professor at the College of Physicians and Surgeons at Columbia University and in 1804 tended to Alexander Hamilton’s fatal injuries after his duel with Aaron Burr. 

This statue of an odalisque, or harem member, was sculpted by Antonio Galli in the mid-19th century. The pool was being repaired when we visited.

Driven by his passion for botany, Hosack established the first formal gardens on the estate and built greenhouses to shelter his exotic plants. He enlisted the expertise of Belgian-born landscape architect André Parmentier who gave the grounds a park-like atmosphere. 

Roads, bridges and lawns were carefully designed to enhance the natural landscape, while large areas were deliberately left in their wild state. Today, much of Parmentier’s original design remains unchanged. 

This saucy statue was known as “Barefoot Kate.”

The four of us entered the formal Italian-style gardens at the northwest corner, where Wally and I left my mom and dad to linger at a table outside the tool house with miscellaneous items available for anyone to take, using an honor system. 

“Barefoot Kate” isn’t really barefoot!

We continued up the gravel path and through the upper terrace gardens, where volunteers from the Frederick William Vanderbilt Garden Association were tending to the annual plants. This nonprofit works closely with the National Park Service to restore the gardens to their 1930s appearance. 

Ahead of us stretched a walkway lined with cherry trees, leading to a brick loggia and reflecting pool. A white marble statue of an odalisque known as “Barefoot Kate,” stood in the central niche, appearing to delicately test the waters with her toe. On closer inspection, you can see she’s actually wearing sandals and isn’t even barefoot. The reflecting pool was closed for maintenance during our visit, but the vignette was still striking. The path continued down a flight of steps to the rose garden with a pavilion overlooking Crum Elbow Creek.

For those who might be curious, crimson roses were Frederick’s favorite and were delivered to his bedroom each morning. Louise preferred yellow roses, which she insisted be placed on the Louis XVI-style table in the drawing room.

Louise particularly loved roses and had part of the garden devoted to them.

Wally is always willing to visit a garden.

Duke sittin’ pretty

Flowering trees with gorgeous shades of pink can be seen in the hills beyond the gardens.

After meandering through the sprawling gardens, we met up with my parents and returned to the Pavilion, where we joined the group of visitors who were waiting in anticipation of meeting our guide. 

The Vanderbilt Mansion is a prime example of Beaux Arts architecture, a style characterized by its grandeur and classical elements, popular in the Gilded Age.

The Country House 

Mark Twain first coined the term “The Gilded Age” when he published his satirical novel The Gilded Age: A Tale of Today in 1873. The term refers to the economic boom between the end of the Civil War in 1865 and the turn of the 20th century. 

The Vanderbilts were certainly emblematic of the era’s excess and grandeur. Frederick and Louise had an impressive real estate portfolio, with residences in Manhattan; Bar Harbor, Maine; Newport, Rhode Island; and a Japanese-inspired retreat on Upper St. Regis Lake in the Adirondacks. Yet, they sought a country retreat in the bucolic Hudson Valley. 

Frederick was a director of 22 railroads, including the New York Central Railroad, the Pittsburgh and Lake Erie Railroad, and the Chicago and North Western Railroad. Despite their substantial wealth, the old-money families of the area, such as the Livingstons and the Beekmans, whose wealth went back at least three generations, labeled Vanderbilts “nouveau riche” and found them to be distasteful and crass.

Most recently, the property they desired belonged to Dorothea Langdon, whose father, John Jacob Astor, purchased it for her and her husband, Walter, in 1840.

A gilt bronze Louis XVI-style revolving dial clock, featuring the Three Graces holding a globe, by Henry Dasson, sits atop a table with a rare deep purple porphyry stone top.

Frederick and Louise bought the property for under $25,000 and hired the prestigious architectural firm of McKim, Mead & White to replace the existing home with a new, larger version. 

Frederick and Louise Vanderbilt. Are you surprised she was the outgoing one?

Charles McKim studied at the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris, and the home’s design reflects many elements of classic Beaux Arts style. Completed in 1898, its exterior is sheathed in Indiana limestone over a steel and concrete structure. Unlike its predecessor, the new house rose a full three stories. 

Meanwhile, New York decorator Ogden Codman and architect Stanford White were tasked with furnishing the 54-room home with $2.25 million worth of museum-quality paintings and tapestries, and incorporating a range of European antiques and finely crafted period reproductions. 

Despite its grandeur, the impressive 45,000-square-foot structure was considered “modest” in comparison to the opulent homes of Frederick’s siblings, such as George Washington Vanderbilt who erected the ostentatious Biltmore in Asheville, North Carolina. 

Completed in 1899, the Hyde Park house featured all the latest innovations: electricity powered by a hydroelectric generator in Crum Elbow Creek — which according to our guide was a full decade before other homes in the town would experience this marvel themselves — central heating from coal-fired furnaces, and indoor plumbing. In 1936 the Otis Elevator Company electrified the existing hand-powered elevator. 

The cost to complete the Vanderbilt Mansion was $660,000, which, adjusted for inflation, is roughly equivalent to $48.65 million today, excluding the furnishings.

A tapestry hanging in the Vanderbilt Mansion, Hector Bids Farewell, from the 17th century, shows the Greek hero of the Trojan War in Renaissance style dress.

While Frederick was described as quiet and introverted, Louise (who went by Lulu) was social and philanthropic and loved to entertain. She frequently hosted lavish parties, galas and balls at the Hyde Park estate, including an annual strawberry and ice cream festival for the community. She would also ride through town on a horse-drawn carriage during Christmastime and deliver presents to the children of Hyde Park. 

And while they entertained friends now and then, for the most part, it was just the two of them — along with loads of servants — about 60 to be exact. Of these, 17 were employed in the house, two in the Pavilion, and 44 on the grounds and farm. Thirteen men cared for the gardens and lawns alone. When guests stayed in the Pavilion, additional cooks and maids were hired from the town of Hyde Park.

The front doors open to the reception hall, where you could sit on the sofa and admire the topless busts that support the mantel over the fireplace.

The Reception Hall

The main floor of the Vanderbilt Mansion was primarily used for entertaining. The first room we entered was the spacious reception hall, designed in an elliptical shape, lending it a sophisticated feel, similar to the Federal-style Oval Office in the White House. The octagonal opening in the ceiling enhances this geometric design, allowing natural light to flood the hall from the skylight above.

The great hall is furnished with a pair of matching tufted sofas, Italian throne chairs, and a mantelpiece bought from Raoul Heilbronner, a German-born art and antiques dealer in Paris. A 16th century tapestry bearing the Medici family crest hangs above it, suggesting that the family’s lineage dated back to the Italian Renaissance. 

When Wally expressed surprise that there were a pair of topless caryatids supporting the mantle, our guide replied that the Victorians didn’t mind nudity — as long as it was done in a classical style.

Guests would meet in the home’s foyer before sitting down for a seven-course dinner in the dining room, a different wine being served with each course. The men and women would then split off to two separate parlors — women to talk about fashion and the like; men to discuss business. They would then convene in the drawing room before heading off to bed at midnight.

A collection of beer steins and a mounted elk's head adorn Frederick Vanderbilt’s cozy den. 

The Study and Den

The first room to the left of the reception hall is Frederick’s study,  mahogany-paneled with vaulted ceilings, a built-in desk and intricately carved wood panels. These architectural elements feature whimsical scenes of animals and cherubs, and were salvaged from a European château before being shipped to Hyde Park. 

Unusual for the time, the study has its own bathroom — so Frederick could go about his business without the staff knowing. 

The attached den has a bookcase holding about 400 volumes, mostly fiction and travel, along with Frederick’s textbooks from Yale. 

Louise disliked the ceiling mural in her sitting room of Aurora and Tithonus by American painter Edward Emerson Simmons, so much she had it painted over. It was restored in 1962.

The Gold Room

Louise’s reception room was a feminine counterpoint to Frederick’s masculine study and was used for serving tea, sherry before dinner and gossip conversation. The coved and gilded plaster ceiling includes a mural by American impressionist painter Edward Simmons titled Aurora and Tithonus and was inspired by the mythological paintings of René-Antoine Houasse at Versailles. Apparently Louise hated it and had it painted over in 1906. Thankfully it was uncovered and restored by the National Park Service in 1962. 

You can imagine the games of whist that were once played at these small tables in the drawing room.

The Drawing Room

To the left is the south foyer, which leads to the drawing room. This room features a pair of marble fireplaces and walnut paneling, and is furnished with a blend of antique Renaissance pieces and Louis XV-style seating. 

The drawing room, designed in the French Renaissance style, was often the center of social activity, where guests would gather for conversation, music and games.

After dinner, the ladies would retreat to the drawing room, where a demitasse of coffee and liqueurs were served. Meanwhile, the men lingered in the dining room for another 30 minutes before joining the women for an evening of cards — often bridge — charades or dancing.

The dining room could seat 18 elite guests.

The Dining Room

The dining room mirrors the scale and size of the drawing room. It includes a table that can be extended to seat 18 guests. Beneath it lies an Isfahan Persian rug, one of the largest in the world, measuring 20 by 40 feet and believed to be over 300 years old. 

Like other rooms in the home, the furniture is a reproduction of the Louis XV period. 

The central mural in the dining room, painted by Edward Emerson Simmons

The coffered and gilded ceiling was salvaged from an Italian palazzo, and installed to fit the space. The central mural was painted by Edward Emerson Simmons, a prominent member of Stanford White’s circle of artist friends. 

The blue and white Ming Dynasty vessel at the base of the grand staircase is estimated to be over 500 years old. When the Vanderbilts lived here, it was used as a planter for a towering 20-foot palm tree.

The Grand Staircase

Roll out the red carpet: The grand staircase, with its sweeping wrought iron balustrade, has 10 steps leading up to a landing along the west wall, followed by another 10 steps to an east-facing landing, then 10 more steps heading west to a third landing, and finally nine steps east to reach the second floor.

The second floor is equally as impressive as the first. The elliptical central gallery is surrounded by a cast-stone balustrade and bedrooms, ranging from modest guest quarters to opulent his-and-hers rooms modeled after the Petit Trianon at Versailles.

This marble sculpture depicts the infant Hercules strangling one of the snakes sent by the goddess Hera to kill him in his cradle.

Niches hold marble sculptures of Eros and Psyche, along with Persephone, Greek goddess of spring and queen of the underworld.

Seven years later, the Vanderbilts enlisted New York architect Whitney Warren to redesign certain elements of the house. Warren removed the coved skylight (technically a laylight) atop the second story and replaced it with a flat frosted glass laylight. The wood balustrade around the opening on the second floor was removed to make way for a cast-stone balustrade and a deep plaster cove, embellished with lattice-work panels and oval medallions with female figures, was added to the ceiling of the second floor, beneath the new laylight.

Louise Vanderbilt’s bedroom and boudoir were designed after Marie Antoinette’s private rooms at Versailles.

One of the guest rooms at the Vanderbilt Mansion

Up on the third floor, of the 19 rooms, 11 belonged to female servants. Each morning floors were cleaned, silverware polished, porches swept, and 50 to 60 bouquets of fresh flowers were arranged throughout the home. The generosity of the Vanderbilts extended in many directions and was often expressed in donations of flowers to local churches and hospitals. 

Compare this simple setup for the servants with the lavish decadence upstairs.

The Servants’ Hall

In an affluent household like this, servants were expected to be as invisible as possible, working behind the scenes to keep everything running smoothly. The staff usually arrived a day before Frederick and Louise to prepare the house. They had their own set of stairs and living spaces and were the first to rise and the last to retire for the night.

For the final part of the tour, our guide led us to the less grand service staircase, where we followed him down to the servants’ quarters. This was a simple and functional space with long corridors running north and south. 

Directly beneath the dining room was the kitchen, where meals were prepared. Food was then sent up to the butler’s pantry on the first floor via a large dumbwaiter before being served in the dining room. 

The kitchen downstairs

The basement also housed the unfussy servants’ lounge, which served as both a dining and sitting room where the staff could spend their leisure time.

Accommodations on this floor were for the male servants and included single rooms for the three butlers, a room for visiting valets, and quarters for the day and night men. 

Additionally, the basement contained four storage rooms, two laundry rooms, an ironing room, a wine cellar and an ice room.

The laylight acts as a focal point of the Vanderbilt Mansion.

From Private Estate to Public Heritage: The Journey of the Vanderbilt Mansion

Everything in the house remained as it was when Frederick passed away on June 29, 1938, at the age of 82. Following his death, the first detailed archival records of the interiors were created. The P.J. Curry Company conducted a thorough inventory of the mansion’s contents, while Rodney McKay Morgan photographed many of the rooms for real estate purposes. The New York Times published photographs of the public rooms in 1940, and an album of snapshots, assembled by Fred and James Traudt that same year, is preserved in the home’s archives.

Since the couple had no children, the mansion was bequeathed to Frederick’s niece, Margaret Louise Van Alen. There was just one catch: She had no intention of living there and tried to sell the estate for $350,000, even reducing the price to $250,000. However, with World War II looming, and a country still recovering from the Great Depression, no one was really in the market for a mansion in Upstate New York.

Fortunately, President Roosevelt persuaded Van Alen to donate 211 acres, along with the mansion and its contents, to the National Park Service. The estate was preserved for the nation, renamed the Vanderbilt Mansion National Historic Site, and in 1940 opened to the public. According to the local Eagle News, 1,338 visitors toured the home within the first 10 days of its opening. 

Fireplaces were a sign of wealth during the Gilded Age — so they were included, even when there was a central heating system installed as well.

The Lowdown 

The Vanderbilt Mansion National Historic Site grounds are open to the public every day of the year, from sunrise to sunset. Tickets and visitor information are available in the Visitor Center, located in the building near the parking lot. 

Admission is $15 per person and children 15 and under are free. The tour is free if you have the National Parks annual pass. 

The hour-long tour was an enjoyable experience and gave us a glimpse into the lives of Frederick and Louise and their mansion. The visit takes you through the first and second floors, as well as the service basement. –Duke

At 45,000 square feet, the Vanderbilts’ holiday home featured 21 fireplaces, 14 bathrooms and 25 bedrooms.

Vanderbilt Mansion National Historic Site

119 Vanderbilt Park Road
Hyde Park, New York 12538

3 Killer Spots You Have to See in Death Valley

Death Valley National Park: Don’t let the name fool you! Witness life persist at Badwater Basin (North America’s lowest point!), see rocks defy gravity at the Racetrack, and journey through time in Mosaic Canyon’s vibrant formations.

Straddling the edge of the Mojave Desert in southeastern California and bordering Nevada, Death Valley National Park spans a whopping 3.4 million acres of untamed wilderness, making it the largest park in the United States outside of Alaska’s. 

And if you’re a fan of dry humor, you’ll appreciate that it’s the lowest and driest park in the country, getting less rainfall than your houseplant when you’re on vacation — just under 2 inches (51 millimeters) a year!

“Rocks drift across the flat desert landscape, leaving slug-like trails in the crust, without human or animal intervention.

Known as “sailing stones,” the rocks vary in size from a few ounces to hundreds of pounds. ”

Death Valley Comes Alive

The region got its nickname from a group of pioneers seeking a shortcut to the California coast. They became hopelessly lost in its unforgiving climate, and when they finally made it out, were quoted as saying, “Goodbye, Death Valley. “ The name has stuck ever since.

Despite its foreboding name and harsh conditions, the national park pulses with life. From snow-capped peaks to Sahara-like sand dunes, with vibrant wildflower meadows and winding canyons thrown in, the park offers a bounty of natural wonders. Keep your eyes peeled for roadrunners, often seen darting around Furnace Creek (though they’re not quite like the one famously featured in Looney Tunes cartoons).

Death Valley became a national park in 1994 and welcomes hundreds of thousands of visitors a year. Each corner of the park offers something different. There are numerous natural attractions, with ancient seas and lakes, volcanoes and warped mountains all sites that can be visited here.

With so many intriguing spots to choose from, which of its attractions should be at the top of your must-see list? Keep reading for my top 3 picks you won’t want to miss.

1: Badwater Basin

How low can you go? At 282 feet (86 meters) below sea level, Badwater Basin holds the title as the lowest point in North America. This incredible natural wonder is the remains of a lake that dried up tens of thousands of years ago.

The sprawling salt flats cover a jaw-dropping 200 square miles (500 square kilometers), shaped by seasonal flooding that deposits a glittering layer of sodium chloride (good ol’ table salt), calcite, gypsum and borax as the water evaporates.

The natural wonder got its name when a surveyor attempted to get his mule to drink from the small spring-fed pool near the boardwalk. The mule refused because of the water’s high salinity, and the surveyor marked the location on his map as “bad water.”

When Hurricane Hilary swept through the park in 2023, it flooded the flats, forming a temporary lake over the basin. (The park service reports that it has evaporated to only a few inches deep and is quite far from the road.) 

But even in the harshest of environments, life finds a way. The lakes attract some extraordinary creatures like the Devils Hole pupfish and tiny Badwater snail — fascinating critters that have made this harsh landscape their home.

2: The Racetrack

Among Death Valley’s mind-bending phenomena are the mysterious moving rocks of Racetrack Playa. This dry lakebed is tucked away in a secluded valley between the Cottonwood and Last Chance Ranges and spans about three miles north to south and two miles east to west. However, getting to this remote site is no easy feat and requires a four-wheel-drive vehicle like a Jeep to handle the rugged terrain.

Here, rocks drift across the flat desert landscape, leaving slug-like trails in the crust, without human or animal intervention. Known as “sailing stones,” the rocks vary in size from a few ounces to hundreds of pounds. The phenomenon baffled geologists for years and has only recently been attributed to infrequent freeze-thaw conditions. It was previously thought to occur as a result of Earth’s magnetic field and, at one point, extraterrestrial mountain dwellers popping out during full moons.

Beyond the sailing stones, the Racetrack offers breathtaking views of the Panamint Range. Although the journey to reach this destination is long, the abundance of sights makes the trip to the Racetrack an unforgettable adventure.

3: Mosaic Canyon

There are many canyons in Death Valley, but Mosaic Canyon easily stands out as one of the park’s most popular day hikes. Along its trail, you’ll encounter the mosaic conglomerates that lend the canyon its name. These formations, known as breccia, consist of shattered fragments of marble and dolomite fused together over millennia and embedded in the canyon walls, resulting in a stunning mosaic-like pattern.

Beyond these unique geological finds and breathtaking canyon views, a trip here provides the perfect opportunity for a challenging hike across the rugged terrain. However, navigating the canyon can be tricky, with twists and turns hidden behind giant boulders and apparent dead ends. So, if you’re seeking a hiking experience that keeps you on your toes, Mosaic Canyon is ideal — just be sure to bring along a map.

You’ll find the Mosaic Canyon trailhead near Highway 190, not far from the Mesquite Sand Dunes. This hike winds through narrow passages, around boulder obstacles and past some dry waterfalls. 

While the entire hike is less than four miles long, what makes it stand out is that you can tailor it to your liking, hiking as little or as much as you want.

Planning a Visit to Death Valley

Before visiting Death Valley, there are many important factors to consider. Research is essential, for, while some areas are suitable for all ages and abilities, others require experienced adventurers with proper gear. Check the National Park Service website for current conditions and updates. Areas of the park may be closed due to weather, road damage or construction. 

When is the best time to visit Death Valley?

I highly suggest visiting from November to March, when temperatures are more bearable. Camping and ranger-led programs operate from late October to late April, so plan your trip during this period if you’d like to participate in these activities.

Avoid hiking during the scorching summer months from May to September, when temperatures average 100 degrees Fahrenheit (38 degrees Celsius). Most attractions are exposed, increasing the risk of dehydration and sunstroke.

What are the entrance fees for Death Valley? Do I need a pass?

The National Park Service charges an entrance fee and offers various passes, depending on your trip plans. Consider staying inside the park to spend less time driving in and out and to get the most out of your visit.

Is cell phone reception available in Death Valley?

Cell phone reception is limited in most areas of Death Valley. Download offline maps such as the National Park Service app or maps.me to help assure safe navigation.

What should I bring with me to Death Valley?

Create a checklist tailored to your visit and the season. Essentials include: 

• Maps 

• A portable charger

• Sunscreen

• Appropriate attire (hat, sunglasses, lightweight layers, breathable sturdy shoes or boots, and wool socks)

• Water

• Snacks

Death Valley: It’s not dead; it’s just waiting to be explored. Follow these tips, set your itinerary and be ready to be wowed. This park is full of surprises! –Isabella Hardy

 

Rick Bayless Garden Tour: A Flavorful Experience

Join the renowned Topolobampo and Frontera Grill chef in his Bucktown garden on an unforgettable Chicago culinary tour. And be sure to try the begonias. 

When celebrity chef Rick Bayless opens up his urban garden for tours, snatch up tickets — they go fast.

One of the many things that I love about Chicago is that you can be a tourist in your own city. There’s so much to see and explore. So when I received an email announcing the opportunity to take a tour of Chef Rick Bayless’ urban production garden, I immediately texted my husband, Wally, to gauge his interest. Thankfully he was as excited as I was, and we were able to secure a late August visit through the Tock app. 

The Bayless home’s front door

We arrived about 15 minutes early and joined the other guests waiting outside the Bayless residence in a quiet street in Chicago’s Bucktown neighborhood. It’s situated adjacent to the 606, an elevated park that used to be a rail line.

Because we had a little extra time, Wally and I went up onto the 606 and stood on our tiptoes to get an aerial view of Rick’s garden. 

You can catch a peek of Bayless’ garden from the 606 elevated park.

After the previous tour group left, we entered through the side gate and gathered around the outdoor kitchen. The late afternoon sunlight cast a warm glow over the patio as Wally and I eagerly awaited the start of the tour. We were served classic shaken margaritas and I must admit that I was somewhat awestruck as Rick himself appeared, warmly welcoming us and sharing the fascinating history of his home.

The “welcome” margaritas were too pretty not to photograph. 

Polly’s Polka Lounge

He began by telling us that he and his wife, Deann, had been looking for a property in the city where they could live and cultivate a production garden for their restaurants, Frontera Grill and Topolobampo. After three years of searching, they were discouraged and had nearly given up. So when their real estate agent excitedly called and said, “I found your place!” Rick admitted to us that he was initially skeptical, adding that they waited three days before scheduling an appointment to see it.

At the time of the Baylesses’ viewing, a cheap plastic Old Style beer sign with the name Polly’s Polka Lounge still hung outside of the two-story brick building. Built in 1895, it was originally a tavern that served the community of Eastern European immigrants who had settled in Bucktown. “First of all you have to understand what a tavern was in 1895,” Rick said. “We think of a tavern as synonymous with a bar today, but it wasn’t back then.”

It served as a social hub, where residents could gather and connect with others who shared the same language and traditions. In an era when many families lived in small efficiency apartments with limited space to cook, taverns like this one played a crucial role in providing meals. These establishments were equipped with a full kitchen and served up the familiar, comforting dishes of their homeland. 

“The garden adheres to organic and biodynamic principles, meaning that no pesticides, herbicides or chemical fertilizers are ever used.”

Rick recounted how he walked into the main room of the former tavern and thought, “This is where I want to live.” He was captivated by the open floor plan, 14-foot-high tin-plate-covered ceiling and terrazzo floor, which bore a beautiful patina from decades of beer dripping onto the floor where the bar once stood. 

Many of the flowers in the garden are edible.

Fun fact: When Rick asked the owners where the bar was now, he was told that it was sold to a buyer in Ireland, who had it dismantled, shipped across the Atlantic and reconstructed. He mused about the curious journey of a bar made in Chicago by Eastern Europeans now residing in a pub somewhere in Ireland. 

When Rick saw the outdoor area, which is the size of three city lots, he fell even more deeply in love with the property, and he and Deann immediately put in an offer. 

A boulder behind the adjoining property had a face drawn on it by the Baylesses' granddaughter — which Wally, of course, couldn’t resist sitting on.

Wally and Duke think the garden tour is worth the price of admission. And if you’re lucky, you’ll have Rick himself as your guide!

They’ve now lived there for nearly three decades, and as Rick tells it, it was kismet. “This is just amazing because I have always been in the hospitality business,” he said. “My parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles were all in the restaurant business, and I grew up in it and then got into it myself.” 

In addition to the former tavern where Rick and Deann reside, there’s also a three-flat next door, where their daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter live.

Bayless tells us about the behind-the-scenes drama of the pibil episode of his show.

The Pitfalls of Pit Cooking in Chicago

Before we left the grilling area, Rick pointed out an earthen rock-lined pit. This traditional pre-Hispanic cooking method involves adding firewood to heat the rocks to a temperature between 800° and 900°F. Historically, people would dig a pit, line it with rocks, build a fire, add meat wrapped in aromatic leaves and bury it to prevent oxygen from getting in. The protein cooks underground over a period of six to eight hours, using the residual heat of the rocks. Rick explained that on the Yucatán Peninsula, this method is used for making cochinita pibil, while in Southern and Central Mexico, it’s used for barbacoa. 

Rick recounted how he wanted to feature this method on his PBS cooking show, Mexico: One Plate at a Time. He got his television crew excited, and they started digging at 8:00 in the morning. However, he had overlooked one crucial detail: the shallow roots of the maple trees growing in that part of the yard. He proceeded to tell us that what appears to be him single-handedly digging the hole was actually a labor-intensive effort involving three men wielding pickaxes for nearly six hours to tackle the stubborn roots. 

“When you watch any kind of television, especially reality television, don’t believe it,” Rick added. “There’s a lot going on behind the scenes that you don’t see.”

Bayless’ local restaurants include Topolobampo, Frontera Grill and Xoco.

Garden Party With Rick Bayless

We followed our host to the heart of the garden, which features a grapevine-covered pergola that yields between 250 to 300 pounds of sweet, juicy Concord grapes annually (the same variety used in Welch’s Grape Juice). Once harvested, the thick-skinned grapes are laboriously processed through a food mill, cooked down and sweetened with sugar. The resulting pulp is used in sorbets and pies at Frontera and Topolobampo. 

The Concord grapes adorning the pergola are used in sorbets and pies.

Adjacent to the pergola is a plot dedicated to growing hoja santa, which translates to “holy leaf” in Spanish. The large heart-shaped leaves are extensively used in Mexican cuisine as a wrapper for tamales, poultry, meat and seafood, which are then steamed or baked. Its flavor is reminiscent of black licorice and root beer, and in Texas, where it grows wild, it’s known as the sarsaparilla plant.

Rick gave us an overview of the main production garden, which holds a combination of raised beds, traditional beds and containers. A few of the raised beds produce salad greens, continuously replanted throughout the season, along with aromatic herbs such as basil, lavender, lemon verbena, marjoram, spearmint and thyme. These provide the restaurants with an array of seasonal, locally sourced produce. 

Many of the fruit, veggies, herbs and flowers are used in dishes at Bayless’ restaurants.

The garden adheres to organic and biodynamic principles, meaning that no pesticides, herbicides or chemical fertilizers are ever used, and it emphasizes the holistic relationship between plants, animals and soil. Additionally, there are two resident chickens, Grace and Frankie, and a small pond that’s not filled with koi but with goldfish from PetSmart, as well as an apiary buzzing with honeybees. 

Colorful zinnias

These cacti are resilient enough to survive harsh Midwestern winters. Bayless planted a single paddle years ago that has since grown to this size.

Raspberries add a burst of color and flavor, not to mention Mexican sunflowers, nopal cactus and butternut squash, grown for both their blossoms and fruit. These thrive alongside hanging baskets of Begonia boliviensis, whose edible red flowers pack a delightful sour citrus punch. 

Wally couldn’t believe how tasty the begonias were. It was like something Willy Wonka would create. (He went back for seconds.)

Rick urged us to sample anything from his garden, which we did, and by far, our favorite ended up being the surprisingly tart begonia blossoms. 

Fun fact: According to Rick, the cilantro we’re familiar with today originated in Southeast Asia and was introduced to Mexico by Spanish conquistadors in the 1800s. However, this doesn’t mean there wasn’t a cilantro-like herb already in existence south of the border. In the garden, you’ll discover an indigenous aromatic, the grass-like pipicha, native to Southern Mexico, with a flavor akin to cilantro.

After exploring the gardens, we used the bathroom and snuck a peek of the kitchen, where Mexico: One Plate at a Time is filmed. It’s filled with well-loved pots and pans, plant-covered windowsills and cabinets lined with souvenirs from Rick’s travels.

I found Rick to be a sincere and passionate teacher. It was a privilege to visit and experience his excitement about his garden as he spoke with us — if only for a magical hour and a half. –Duke

We were served guacamole and ceviche — which Bayless wittily clarified wasn’t made using the goldfish in the garden pond.

Rick Bayless Garden Tour

The highlights

• Guided tour of the garden (we’ve heard his gardener, a charismatic young man, often leads these, but we were lucky enough to have had Rick Bayless himself as our host)

• Welcome cocktail and light Mexican bites (we had guacamole and ceviche)

• Learn about the history of the home and garden and its role in Rick’s restaurants.

• See the diverse array of fruit, vegetables and herbs grown in the garden.

• Gain insights into Rick’s sustainable gardening practices.

• Eat as much flora as you want!

The kitchen in Bayless’ home is the one featured on his cooking show.

The details

Cost: $75 per person

Duration: Approximately 90 minutes

Availability: Select dates throughout the year

Location: Rick Bayless’ private residence in Bucktown in Chicago

Visit Tock to book a tour — if they’re available. 

Note:

• Tours sell out quickly, so snatch up a spot as soon as possible.

• The tour isn’t wheelchair accessible.

• Children under the age of 12 aren’t permitted.

The Joyful, Colorful World of Randyland in Pittsburgh

From the imagination of Randy Gilson: how this haven of whimsy and reclaimed objects has helped revitalize the Steel City.

Randy Gilson, the mad genius behind the folk art spectacle Randyland

Nestled in the heart of Pittsburgh’s Mexican War Streets neighborhood is the vibrant and colorful landmark known to locals as Randyland. The historic district was developed in the mid 19th century, shortly after the Mexican-American War — which is why its streets are named after battles and generals from the war.

“In 1995 Randy purchased the building on the corner of Jacksonia and Arch Streets for $10,000.

He used his credit card.”

Rubble, rubble: Randy working on Randyland in the ’90s

The History of Randyland

The story began when its imaginative creator, Randy Gilson, moved to the Central Northside neighborhood in the early ’80s. Randy saw the district’s potential, despite its decline, and became a community activist. He started clearing trash and converting city-owned vacant lots into green spaces. Fueled by a singular vision and a knack for repurposing discarded objects into art, Randy embarked on a mission to create a public space that embodied joy and positivity.

In 1995 he purchased the building on the corner of Jacksonia and Arch Streets for $10,000. He used his credit card. But there was no stopping his vision: to transform the space into a haven of creativity. Over the following decades, the whimsical outdoor oasis of Randyland emerged.

When Randy creates his artwork, it looks like he gets as much paint on his pants as he does on the house.

What started as a single house adorned with colorful murals has blossomed into a sprawling art collection. Found objects — everything from plastic pink flamingos to mannequin heads to bottle caps — are given a new lease on life, meticulously incorporated into the ever-evolving landscape. Whimsical sculptures welcome visitors, their painted surfaces reflecting the playful spirit of the place. 

Local residents and volunteers rallied behind Randy’s vision, donating materials, time and expertise to help bring Randyland to life. Over the years, Randy has created numerous pieces of art and has planted more than 800 trees and 50 vegetable gardens around Pittsburgh.

Families mill about Randyland during the Mexican War Streets House & Garden Tour.

Bringing Together the Community

Randyland’s artistic style is a delightful combination of folk and outsider art. There’s no adherence to established artistic conventions; the beauty lies in the sheer exuberance and the personal touch evident in every detail. The three-story house itself is a canvas, its bright yellow exterior adorned with fantastical scenes and characters.

The whimsical wonderland of Randyland

But Randyland is more than just a visual spectacle. It’s a space that fosters a sense of community. Randy, with his infectious enthusiasm, is a constant presence, engaging with visitors and sharing the story behind his creation. The museum has become a gathering place for locals and tourists alike, a vibrant counterpoint to the industrial backdrop of Pittsburgh.

Step this way! A cutout of Randy greets visitors to Randyland in Pittsburgh.

The impact of Randyland extends far beyond its physical boundaries. It has played a pivotal role in the cultural revitalization of the North Side, inspiring other institutions such as the Mattress Factory, a contemporary art space, to flourish in the area. And its fame has transcended geographical borders. Randyland had been featured on viral listicles and in a steady stream of social posts, thanks to its numerous photogenic vignettes.

Mac, who sadly passed away, helping his partner, Randy upkeep the attraction. Their hard work has helped revitalize the Mexican War Streets neighborhood.

Not All Rainbows and Unicorns

However, Randyland’s journey hasn’t been without its challenges. The extensive use of found objects means constant maintenance and repair. And the recent passing of Randy’s longtime partner, David “Mac” McDermott, who played a crucial role in the attraction’s operation, left a void. 

Yet the spirit of Randyland remains undimmed.

Randy’s work never ends — so while the attraction is free to visit, consider leaving a donation.

Visiting Randyland

The museum is a nonprofit organization, with donations from visitors forming the backbone of its financial support. Volunteers play a vital role in keeping the installations fresh and vibrant. You can also buy Randy’s merch in his store.

The museum is open every day of the week from 10 a.m. until 5:30 p.m. but may be closed during winter due to the weather.

If you’d like to experience the magic of Randyland yourself, find the perfect place to stay. Sites like Cozycozy make it easy to search for accommodations near Randyland and other Pittsburgh attractions, ensuring a comfortable and convenient stay in the Steel City. –Tímea Nguyen

There’s lots of fun, artsy things to buy at the general store.

“Fueled by a singular vision and a knack for repurposing discarded objects into art, Randy embarked on a mission to create a public space that embodied joy and positivity.”

You can’t miss Randyland, a fun activity for kids of all ages.

Randyland

1501 Arch Street
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15212
USA

 

Pittsburgh Is Anything But the Pits

Alaska’s Natural Wonders: An Adventurous Traveler’s Guide to the Last Frontier

The best of Alaska: the glaciers, boreal forests, grizzlies, moose, eagles, orcas and rugged coastlines of the Alaska wilderness.

True explorers can discover the untamed beauty of Alaska: glaciers, forests, wildlife and rugged coastlines.

It’s been referred to as the “Last Frontier” — and for good reason. Alaska is one of the few great wildernesses remaining in the United States. This breathtaking, diverse expanse is an extraordinary spectacle: a diverse landscape of towering glaciers, rugged mountain peaks, vast empty tundras and dramatic coastal plains. It’s one of the most exciting places in the world to explore for adventurous travelers and is packed full of natural wonders waiting to be discovered. 

Aboard an Alaskan cruise, every view is a postcard moment.

An Alaskan cruise opens up a world of awe-inspiring beauty and lets you get to the heart of this remote yet stunning corner of the world. Discover the best landscapes of Alaska’s varied and surprisingly diverse wilderness.

Denali, aka Mount McKinley, is the tallest mountain in North America, standing at an impressive height of 20,310 feet (6,190 meters).

Glacier-Carved Mountains

Towering mountain ranges are a constant feature of the Alaskan landscape. Dramatic peaks and rugged ridges dominate the vistas, crowned by snow, ice and glaciers. Some of the continent’s highest summits can be found in the 49th state, including Mount Denali, the tallest mountain in North America. These peaks and valleys, carved over thousands of years by migrating glaciers, are a remarkable place for outdoor enthusiasts to explore, and a great place for hiking, mountaineering and wildlife watching.

Some of the numerous glaciers in Alaska are 30,000 years old!

Majestic Glaciers

Alaska’s glaciers are some of the state’s most popular attractions. The vast ice fields that cover over 100,000 square miles are actually ancient rivers of ice, constantly shifting and imperceptibly flowing, and are responsible for sculpting most of what constitutes the landscape of Alaska. 

While exploring Alaska’s glaciers isn’t for the faint-hearted, a hike over one of these frozen monuments is a unique and breathtaking experience, and you will stand gaping in awe at the towering ice walls, deep crevasses and shimmering blue ice caves. It truly is transcendental. For the less adventurous, a helicopter ride over the ice is also a treat.

The boreal forest in Alaska takes up about 65% of the state’s land mass.

Wildlife-Rich Forests

Many people think of Alaska as a barren wasteland, but its boreal forests are actually teeming with life and offer an important habitat for a huge variety of flora and fauna. Enormous stands of spruce, fir and cedar spread far and wide across the state and are home to a remarkable variety of ecosystems and natural beauty.

Up to 8,000 moose are hunted every year in Alaska.

Kodiak are members of the grizzly family and are only found on an archipelago in Alaska.

Filled with meandering rivers, tranquil lakes and pristine wetlands, Alaska’s forests are a wonderful way to see the richness and diversity of the state up close. They also offer the chance to encounter some of the Last Frontier’s most iconic wildlife, including grizzlies, moose, wolves and eagles, as well as some more hidden gems such as caribou, lynx and wolverines. 

Ketchikan, known as Alaska’s “first city,” sure looks quaint — but this strip is its historic red light district.

Coastal Marvels

It’s hard to do justice to the rough, rugged magnificence of Alaska’s coastline. Stretching for over 6,600 miles, it stands in stark contrast to the wilderness of the interior, serving up a landscape of rocky cliffs, hidden coves and eye-catching beaches, as well as charming fishing villages and delightful old towns.

Orcas, aka killer whales, are actually dolphins. But the other part of their name is apt: They’re apex predators that hunt and consume sharks, baby whales and seals.

The coastline also gives visitors the chance to discover Alaska’s marine marvels, with whale watching a particular highlight. The abundant wildlife just offshore includes orcas, sea otters, dolphins and harbor seals. 

Alaska: where adventure meets awe-inspiring beauty.

The beauty and diversity of Alaska’s landscapes cannot be overstated, and a trip to this wonderful state provides adventure, excitement and natural wonders in equal measure. This stunning destination offers a chance to reconnect with nature and should be on every traveler’s bucket list! –Boris Dzhingarov

Mayhem, Madness and Mystery at the Abandoned Buffalo State Asylum

Unveiling the dark secrets that haunt the halls of the former insane asylum on an unforgettable tour with Preservation Buffalo Niagara at the Richardson Olmsted Campus. 

If you like creepy settings and learning about the history of mental illness treatments, book a tour of the Buffalo State Asylum for the Insane the next time you’re in that neck of the woods.

As mentioned in our previous post, Wally and I were staying overnight at the Richardson Hotel. So, of course, we couldn’t resist the chance to explore the vacant buildings of the decommissioned asylum the following morning. I eagerly awaited the release of tickets for the docent-led tour on the Preservation Buffalo Niagara website — and when they became available, I quickly purchased our tickets for the two-hour in-depth tour ($30 each at the time of publication).

After a quick breakfast at Café Calvert, we arrived about 15 minutes early and gathered with the other attendees inside the Lipsey Architecture Center gallery, which hosts a small museum of artifacts, where you can delve into the institution’s history. Once we checked in, we signed the necessary safety release forms and were provided with hard hats. 

Geoffrey has been giving tours for a long time and knows an impressive amount about the facility.

Our guide, Geoffrey, introduced himself and warmly welcomed us on behalf of the Richardson Center Corporation, the nonprofit organization entrusted with preserving the historic structures on the Richardson Olmsted Campus. He began the tour by introducing the key figures who were involved in the construction of the buildings we were about to explore. He also laid out some ground rules: no photography, unauthorized video recording, high-tech ghost-tracking gadgets, smoking, or vaping allowed. (Wally and I had gotten special permission to take a few images inside to accompany this post.)

In the interest of safety, Geoffrey requested that we all stay close together. The buildings and floors we toured have been stabilized for future use — though we saw at least one closed-off area that had a hole through the floor. Someone who wandered into off-limits areas could find themselves plummeting to the floor below. 

The asylum was the largest commission of Richardson’s brief career. His vision for the hospital reflected the Kirkbride philosophy to create a holistic environment for the recovery of mentally ill patients. The central part is now a hotel.

Paging Doctor Kirkbride

The first of three figures Geoffrey introduced us to was Dr. Thomas Story Kirkbride, a Quaker physician and alienist who served as the superintendent of the Pennsylvania Hospital for Mental and Nervous Diseases. 

Kirkbride was a pioneer in advocating for the moral treatment of the mentally ill, and his influential opus, On the Construction, Organization, and General Arrangements of Hospitals for the Insane, With Some Remarks on Insanity and Its Treatment, was published in 1854. It laid the foundation for a standardized concept for these specialized institutions. 

Topics covered in his book included the roles of the staff, putting the superintendent firmly in charge of decision-making — perhaps reflecting the importance he placed on his role at the Pennsylvania Hospital. 

The entire complex took a quarter of a century to complete due to a lack of funds. After a 10-year delay the five women’s wings were finally completed, in 1886.

Kirkbride proposed that these mental facilities not exceed 250 patients, a baseline that was frequently disregarded and likely contributed to their failures. Case in point: When the east wing of the Buffalo State Asylum for the Insane accepted its first patients on November 15, 1880, it was already pushing the limits. It was designed by Richardson to accommodate 300 patients, 50 more than Kirkbride’s maximum.

This codified method of asylum construction became known as the Kirkbride Plan and included a central administration building with patient wings on either side.

The men’s ward included a barbershop. One side ended up becoming a repository for plaster molds used to make ceramic Christmas-themed figurines that were sold in an onsite shop.

Buffalo Gets Its Wings

Geoffrey pointed out that when the state of New York decided to build a mental asylum in Buffalo, they sought the expertise of Dr. John Gray, the superintendent of the New York State Lunatic Asylum at Utica. At its inception, the site spanned 203 acres of farmland on the outskirts of the budding city, stretching all the way to the banks of Scajaquada Creek.

The second key figure to be introduced to us by Geoffrey was a familiar one: architect Henry Hobson Richardson. Although his career was brief — he died at the age of 47 of kidney failure — he’s remembered as the father of American architecture. Richardson was responsible for the design and construction of the residence of William Dorsheimer, a prominent lawyer and citizen of Buffalo. When the time came to select an architect for the asylum, Dorsheimer suggested Richardson.

According to Geoffrey, the structure is Richardsonian in certain ways, but Richardson wasn’t allowed to do exactly what he wanted. The state continually made modifications to Richardson’s designs, and the structure we see today was actually the seventh iteration. Gray improved upon the asylum’s design, including the introduction of short, curved corridors, which discouraged the placement of additional patient beds that would lead to overcrowding.

Frederick Law Olmsted’s Impact on Buffalo State Asylum’s Landscape Transformation

By now our group had followed Geoffrey through an underground passage and assembled on the outer edge of the South Lawn, facing the central twin-towered Administration Building (now the Richardson Hotel). Our guide proceeded to tell us that the third person involved in the development of the former state asylum was none other than the renowned American landscape architect Frederick Law Olmsted. Kirkbride’s treatment approach emphasized the vital role of the environment, deemed crucial for recovery.

Olmsted and his partner Calvert Vaux were invited to Buffalo in 1868 to design a public park system. In anticipation of the construction of the Buffalo State Asylum for the Insane, the duo laid out plans for the pastoral grounds during their visit.

The original plans were lost, and the partnership between Olmsted and Vaux came to an end. However, Olmsted returned to Buffalo in 1879, just as construction was nearing completion and devised a fresh design. He oversaw the planting of around 150 trees and 2,000 shrubs intended to be enjoyed on afternoon walks. Regrettably, only two of these plantings are what remain of Olmsted’s original work: a lone swamp white oak whose heavy limbs are supported by wooden scaffolding and a white ash tree.

The entire complex functioned as a self-sustaining community, with its own blacksmith, bakery and railroad line. Additionally, there was a farm on the northern part of the site, which was designed, along with the extensive walkways and paths, by Olmsted. 

The Richardson Olmsted Corporation enlisted Andropogon Associates, a prominent Philadelphia-based landscape architecture firm, to rehabilitate and re-landscape the South Lawn for public use. Their efforts included the elimination of asphalt parking lots, which were recycled and repurposed to create pathways.

Beware! You never know what lurks behind that door!

Inside the Abandoned Mental Institution

Our interior explorations began with the male ward. These spaces exuded precisely what one might envision in an abandoned former psychiatric facility. The peeling walls were painted aqua blue, and the floors were littered with plaster that had gradually detached from the cavernous lath and plaster ceilings 16 feet overhead. Geoffrey enlightened us about the original wall color of the ward – a pale yellowish pink accented by burgundy trim.

Vents were placed higher up on the walls in the male wards because Kirkbride believed that male patients were prone to gathering around them and treating them as makeshift spittoons.

There’s a substantial amount of work ahead, with various ideas being considered for the future use of these spaces.

Quieting Schizophrenia’s Demons With Controversial Treatments

Our group paused at the end of a corridor where three basketballs sat forlornly and listened intently as Geoffrey discussed the details of insulin coma therapy, an experimental treatment from the late 1920s that laid the foundation for lobotomies and electroshock therapy. 

This method was used to treat patients with severe schizophrenia and involved the administration of small doses of insulin, which were gradually increased over several sessions, until the patient entered a comatose state for a minimum of one hour. The procedure did come with some risks, though, including heart failure and irreversible brain damage. 

While patients might have experienced temporary relief, doubts lingered regarding whether insulin coma therapy delivered lasting improvements. Despite these concerns, it remained a widely employed treatment for schizophrenia throughout the 1940s and ’50s.

One of the most evocative images Duke captured that day: the light streaming into the crumbling corridor, with three basketballs sitting forlornly beside a pair of long-dormant radiators at the end of the hall.

We exited the male wards, walking past the central building to reach the female ward. Geoffrey directed our attention to a brick structure adjacent to the Richardson Hotel’s HVAC system, which once served as the kitchen for the female ward. 

When patients weren’t farming or doing occupational therapy, they spent their time in the light-filled corridors, which acted as day rooms. They were 210 feet (64 meters) long and 15 feet (4.5 meters) wide. Fun fact: One was included in the Robert Redford film The Natural.

Exploring the Women’s Ward

As we ascended a set of metal steps, Geoffrey told us that many of the brick structures on the campus (those not built using Medina sandstone) were unstable and at risk of collapsing. 

The ceilings were made of tinplate, and although they’ve acquired a rusty patina, they’ve fared much better than the lath and plaster used in the male ward. You can still see traces of the original caramel-colored paint underneath the other layers. 

There were clear indications that the corridor we passed through had experienced a fire, which had charred the towering ceilings, likely in the late 1970s or ’80s. This fire, in conjunction with the graffiti scattered throughout the space, was the consequence of squatters gaining access to the property during a period when it was unused and largely forgotten by the city. Thankfully, the fire was contained and didn’t spread throughout the building.

Despite its current state of decay, this room retains a sense of its former grandeur.

When one of the visitors in our group asked if there had been any interesting patients over the years, Geoffrey paused to share a story. He held up an enlarged black-and-white photograph of a woman in a white dress seated in a chair in one of the ward’s corridors.

Evidently, she’d been accused of murder. Following her conviction, she was sent to the Buffalo State Asylum, where she received a diagnosis of epilepsy. She stayed there for three years before somehow convincing the superintendent to release her. Geoffrey mentioned that after leaving the psychiatric center, she vanished without a trace and reintegrated into society. It remains unknown whether she was involved in any more acts of violence.

The sexes were separated at the asylum, and only the women could enjoy fireplaces — the men weren’t to be trusted with fire.

A notable contrast with the male ward was the presence of sitting rooms with large fireplaces, which were conspicuously missing on the other side. Geoffrey commented that female patients were deemed responsible enough to handle fire. He then quipped that the decorative wall grates in the women’s ward were positioned lower because, according to Kirkbride, women were less inclined to spit.

Each three-story wing had areas where patients would spend their days when they weren’t enjoying leisurely walks in the green spaces or tending to tasks on the asylum’s farm. Floors were equipped with a reception room, a parlor, a dining room, single lodging rooms, an attendants’ chamber, two or more bathrooms, and a room with bathtubs — patients were expected to take a bath once a week.

Unfortunately, there’s nothing left of the tracks that help deliver food from the nearby kitchens to the dining halls.

A dolly was used to transport meals from the kitchens via a railway system that extended throughout the entire hospital, leading to a large dumbwaiter. This dumbwaiter, in turn, was used to deliver the food to the patient dining rooms on each floor.

A political cartoon from 1884 depicts Grover Cleveland and references story that he had an illegitimate child (whose mother he had committed to an insane asylum).

Grover Cleveland’s Problem Child 

The discussion shifted to the subject of patients who had been involuntarily committed, and Geoffrey drove this point home with a story of politics and power in Buffalo.

On July 21, 1884 the Buffalo Evening Telegraph published a salacious story alleging that Grover Cleveland, then governor of New York, had fathered a child out of wedlock a decade earlier with a widow named Maria Halpin. She gave birth to a baby boy on September 14, 1874, in a hospital for unwed mothers in Buffalo. The child was given the name Oscar Folsom Cleveland in honor of Cleveland’s closest friend.

Following the child’s birth, Cleveland used his political influence to request that County Judge Roswell L. Burrows remove the child from Halpin’s care. It was reported that Cleveland’s associates then forcibly escorted the understandably confused and distraught widow to the Providence Lunatic Asylum, known today as Sisters Hospital. However, after a comprehensive evaluation, the hospital’s superintendent confirmed the woman’s sanity and acknowledged her as a victim of political manipulation. She was released a few days later.

Cleveland's reaction? He refuted the allegations and initiated an aggressive smear campaign against Halpin, portraying her as an alcoholic and a woman of questionable character. Ultimately, Cleveland went on to win the presidency, and despite a 27-year age gap, he married Frances, the 21-year-old daughter of his deceased friend Folsom. But that’s a tale for another time. 

Some of the bathrooms still have toilets and sinks. High windows allowed natural light to enter without compromising privacy — a practical feature in the era before electricity.

Downfall by Design: The Inevitable Failure of the Kirkbride Plan

Geoffrey delved deeper into the Kirkbride model. His institutions were constructed like grand estates — lavish and expensive to operate. Their goal was to cater to the patients’ affluent relatives, who were encouraged to visit, see how lovely they were and end up convinced they were worth the hefty price tag. 

The tables have quite literally turned, and there’s still a significant amount of work ahead, as the rest of the complex awaits redevelopment. 

These hospitals primarily served as acute care facilities where patients received treatment for short-term episodes of hysteria and conditions such as disagreeable, rebellious or eccentric behavior. By today’s standards, these conditions would likely be categorized as behavioral issues. With patients coming and going quickly, the asylum reported a high cure rate. It’s not surprising, considering that most of the patients who were admitted weren’t clinically insane to begin with.

Patient populations at county-run almshouses that were already over capacity were emptied and transferred to state-run institutions. It was a mix of conditions like dementia and schizophrenia. The Kirkbride model was applied — but there weren’t any wealthy patrons to foot the bill. The more serious cases were never cured, and the wealthier patients who had been financing these facilities switched to private hospitals. Kirkbride hospitals, like the one in Buffalo, became overcrowded and eventually fell into disrepair.

Overcrowded and underfunded, the mental institution finally closed in 1974.

By the 1960s, the Buffalo State Hospital, since renamed, was struggling to accommodate 3,000 patients, despite being built for 600. In response, the institution constructed the Strozzi Building and the Butler Recovery and Treatment Center, both of which remain in operation as part of the campus.

Powerful vignettes like this show the eeriness of the abandoned facility — as if the staff and patients all left suddenly, en masse.

Our tour lasted about a couple of hours and our guide Geoffrey provided us with a glimpse into the fascinating history of these structures. He was engaging and displayed a deep knowledge of the subject matter. If you’re visiting Buffalo and are interested in touring this singular (and delightfully creepy) National Historic Landmark, book your tour ahead of time. They only run from June through October. –Duke

The Richardson Hotel: A Night in a Former Insane Asylum

The hotel brings new life to a Buffalo, New York landmark. But does it deliver? 

I knew we had to stay at this iconic Buffalo building, an architectural landmark dating back to the late 1800s. 

I can still remember the clusters of vacant but majestic buildings of the Buffalo Psychiatric Center, bordering my alma mater. When I was an art student at Buffalo State College in the late 1980s, it had become a daily ritual for me. After parking my car, I would gaze beyond the chain-link fence at the fortress-like structures, imagining the possibilities of their reuse. That was over three decades ago.

In recent years, my dream of exploring the historic national landmark has finally come true. The grounds of the former mental asylum have been reintegrated into the city’s urban fabric and are now known as the Richardson Olmsted Campus. 

“When I shared that we were staying in a former mental asylum with my friends, they quipped, “Aren’t you worried it’s haunted?””

As a Buffalo native returning to visit family in Ellicottville, New York, I wanted Wally and me to add an extra day to revisit my old stomping grounds and stay overnight at the Richardson Hotel. In its previous iteration, it operated as the upscale Hotel Henry, which opened in 2017 but, due to the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic, closed its doors four years later in 2021. 

The 88-room hotel occupies the central administration building and two adjacent wards, which are dwarfed by a pair of twin, verdigris roofed towers, a hue somewhere between green and blue. Additionally, it’s within walking distance of Elmwood Avenue and three world-class museums: the Buffalo AKG Art Museum, the Burchfield Penney Art Center and the Buffalo History Museum, the only remaining building from Buffalo’s 1901 Pan-American Exposition. 

The original campus was 203 acres but is now 42. The largest reduction in size occurred in 1927, when half of the land was used to develop Buffalo State College, Duke’s alma mater.

The Architecture of Madness

But first, here’s a bit about the landmark’s backstory. In June 1871, construction began on a grand new civic project: the Buffalo State Asylum for the Insane. Architect Henry Hobson Richardson designed the innovative facility away from the city center, on 203 acres of farmland, which eventually grew to include 11 buildings. Its parklike grounds were planned by the foremost landscape architects of the nation, Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux, whose Greensward Plan won them the commission to design New York City’s Central Park.

The monumental Richardsonian Romanesque asylum looked more like a stately manor than a state hospital. It’s anchored by a large central administrative building with two symmetrical sets of wards extending horizontally in an orderly V-shaped formation, like a flock of geese in flight. Its general layout was determined by Joseph Gray, head of the existing State Lunatic Asylum in Utica, New York, and based on the Kirkbride Plan, a geometric system of asylum architecture developed by 19th century American psychiatrist Thomas Story Kirkbride. 

Patients were segregated by gender and condition: one ward for male patients and the other for females. Those who required the most care were placed at the farthest ends of the institution’s wards. This was done to ensure that patients received the most appropriate care based upon the nature and seriousness of their illness. 

Olmsted applied his skills as a landscape architect to establish a buffer between the asylum and the outside world, aligning with Kirkbride’s philosophy of “moral treatment,” which advocated for a more humane approach to mental health care. He suggested to Richardson that the buildings should be oriented to face southeast, which would enable the spacious corridors to be  filled with natural light. You see, the asylum opened on November 15, 1880 — two years before the commercial introduction of electricity. 

Additionally, Olmsted surrounded the buildings with expansive lawns and trees, fostering a connection between the facility’s interior and its surrounding landscape, both of which were considered crucial for patients’ recovery.

Duke loves his detail shots — and this one is of the Minton tile inside the south entrance portico, the original entrance to the central building. 

A New Legacy 

Although the building was designated a National Historic Landmark in 1986, it wasn’t until two decades later that the nonprofit Richardson Center Corporation (RCC) was formed and subsequently intervened. Their objective was to own and redevelop the architectural treasure. The RCC raised funds to adapt a portion of the site, and the state of New York contributed $76 million to help jumpstart the ambitious project.

Following a seven-year conservation process, the public-private partnership focused on phase one, to reimagine the centuries-old complex by regreening the nine-acre South Lawn and adaptively reusing the central pavilion and two adjoining wings of the Medina sandstone building. TenBerke of NYC, Flynn Battaglia Architects of Buffalo, and Goody Clancy of Boston teamed up to undertake the overhaul, resulting in a boutique hotel, conference center and permanent home for the Lipsey Architecture Center, named for the late Stanford Lipsey, the former publisher of the Buffalo News and a champion for the city’s architectural revival. 

A key aspect of the redesign involved moving the main entrance to the north side of the four-story central administrative building, and enclosing it within a contemporary transparent steel and glass box. 

Fun fact: During renovation, the addition attached to the north side of the central building was demolished, revealing the original terracotta-colored grout between the blocks of muddy pink Medina sandstone. Don’t forget to pause and admire this before entering the hotel. 

When I shared my excitement about staying at the Richardson with my friends, they quipped, “Aren’t you worried it’s haunted?” In reality, the only apparitions I found were some of the aesthetic “improvements” made by the hotel’s new owners. 

The hallways at the Richardson feature warm globe lights and distinctive carpeting that evokes the decay of the abandoned wards.

Staying at the Richardson 

After the closure of Hotel Henry, Douglas Development purchased the property and rebranded it as the Richardson Hotel (which reopened on March 3, 2023). While I can appreciate the new owners’ intentions to establish their own identity, they had acquired a timeless and restrained turnkey property. Why junk it up?

For me, the addition of the porte-cochère was disappointing and feels out of place. It detracts from the commanding lines of the sandstone façade and obstructs artist Dániel Shafer’s graceful, rounded Spirit of Community sculpture. Incidentally, the addition of a herd of Buffalo statues doesn’t help. It’s not surprising, then, that the outdoor terrace that used to be above the atrium was dismantled — after all, who would want to overlook a canopy covered in corrugated steel? 

I’ll say it: I’m not a fan of the porte-cochère, which feels more appropriate for a gas station than a boutique hotel. 

As we entered the atrium, I noticed that the elegant, low-slung seating areas outside of the Lipsey Architecture Center were strangely cordoned, as if to say, “Keep off.” And when I looked up at the modern double glass and metal staircases leading to reception, I was overwhelmed by the number of vinyl decals indicating the check-in location. (Note: This abundance of signage was a recurring theme throughout the hotel). 

I saw the sign…and then some! The overabundance of wayfinding signage at the Richardson made it feel cheap.

I was eager to appreciate the scale and volume of Richardson’s design, but what I discovered were walls covered with oversized canvas photo prints of Buffalo landmarks. There were so many that my eyes didn’t know where to focus. The refurbished grand staircase should have been the centerpiece of the lobby, but instead, had to contend with the decorative stencil work uncovered during renovation and the aforementioned wall art. 

During renovation, Douglas Development uncovered decorative stencil work and replicated it throughout the hotel.

The reception desk is tucked under this impressive staircase.

I can get behind the idea of celebrating Buffalo and its architectural legacy, and I have no issue with historically accurate stenciling — but perhaps they should have considered choosing one or the other, not both. If the goal is to pay homage to the city’s landmarks, condensing it into a gallery wall could serve as a more fitting approach. 

The richly patterned and colored tile flooring in this curved connector passage was made by Minton, Hollins & Co. in Staffordshire, England. 

Considering the national reputation of nearby art galleries, such as the Burchfield Penney and AKG, I found myself wishing Douglas Development continued the rotating art program that Hotel Henry established with Resource:Art. This would encourage visitors to explore the hotel’s public spaces, serve as an additional draw and solidify the hotel’s presence within the city’s museum corridor. 

At least the former asylum’s lofty corridors retain their grand scale. The palatial hallways are anchored with wall-to-wall carpeting in a palette of blues and greens. This color scheme could be a nod to Buffalo’s heyday as a Great Lakes port or the peeling paint of the wards that have yet to be restored. I particularly liked the elegant yet simple circular pendants with milk glass globes suspended from the ceiling. 

Just what the doctor ordered: Our room was cozy, uncluttered and bright.

Our Room: A Cozy Queen for a Couple of Queens

We stayed in a Cozy Queen room on the second floor. I had read that most of the hotel's guest rooms were created by merging three single-occupancy rooms, which were only 11 x 9 feet wide. And staying true to its name, our room was compact and uncluttered, with a queen-size bed, two nightstands, a desk and en-suite bathroom. Given the limited space, a built-in stainless steel rack and cheerful bright yellow ball coat hooks efficiently served in lieu of a full-size dresser. 

The wall art above the upholstered headboard was the focal point of the room, featuring a striking black and white architectural detail of the landmark. Not only was it cool but it also served a practical purpose. The panels are constructed from an eco-friendly noise-reducing wool and wood fiber material. 

Café Calvert was the perfect place to start our day. They offer caffeinated and non-caffeinated beverages, as well as an assortment of delicious sweet and savory baked goods. Tell Jenna we say hi!

Onsite Dining at the Richardson Hotel

Visitors can get their caffeine fix and a bite at Café Calvert, which is exactly what Wally and I did after we dropped our bags off in our room. The café sources its beans from local roaster Overwinter Coffee. In addition to an iced latte, Wally and I shared a peach and blueberry muffin and a cheddar and bacon scone, both of which were delicious. Jenna, the barista who served us, was friendly and helpful. When I asked her for a local lunch spot to go the following afternoon, she suggested Remedy House in the hip Five Corners neighborhood, a highlight of our trip. 

We also checked out Bar Vaux, the cocktail lounge located next to Café Calvert. I had the Across the Pacific and Wally, the Hobson Sour. We also shared a tasty thin-crust mushroom pizza. Despite its high ceilings, the space feels intimate. 

Get a pizza (and great cocktails) at Bar Vaux.

Overall, our stay was pleasant but fell short of my expectations for a luxury boutique hotel. There was no welcome book, TV guide or menus for the hotel restaurants in our room. Additionally, only one of us could use the hotel WiFi; if both of us had wanted to, we would have incurred an additional fee. 

The building features rounded passages between buildings — originally designed to deter putting beds in the hallways.

The upstairs lounge is a nice spot to hang out.

With that said, the hotel has been open for six months and celebrated its grand opening on September 19. It’s my hope that Douglas Development has plans to address cosmetic changes using a more discerning eye and introduce in-room amenities in the future, to fully meet the expectations of a four-star hotel experience. 

Buildings aren’t made like this anymore — let alone converted into hotels. So it’s well worth a stop for food and drinks at Bar Vaux or a visit to the Buffalo Architecture Center to see this gem up close, even if you can’t experience an overnight stay. –Duke 

The Richardson Hotel

444 Forest Avenue 
Buffalo, New York 14213
USA

 

Forest Lawn Cemetery: Lost Among the Dead

Buffalo, New York’s famous resting ground is home to the Blocher Monument and the graves of President Millard Fillmore and Rick James (yes, of “Super Freak” fame). 

Wally (and Duke) had a gay old time in Forest Lawn Cemetery — though it was a tough one to navigate on foot.

I’ve always been fascinated by old cemeteries. In college, I taped a set of slides of weathered limestone headstones from the antebellum Laurel Grove Cemetery in Savannah, Georgia, over the diffused light panels on either side of my bathroom’s medicine cabinet. One of the slides showed a tombstone for a little girl, inscribed with the epithet, “Our Little Della.” A few of them were so old and brittle that they were almost translucent. 

So, when my husband, Wally, and I were planning our trip to Buffalo, New York, I knew we had to add Forest Lawn Cemetery to our itinerary. I remembered wandering through it many times in my early 20s, when I went to college nearby, and I couldn’t wait to see it again with him, as he shares my appreciation of Victorian funerary art and expansive 19th century parks for the dead. 

“She gushed about having seen the grave of Rick James, the singer-songwriter of “Super Freak” fame, an ’80s hit that celebrated a kinky girl — “the kind you don’t take home to mother.””

An add to celebrate Forest Lawn’s 75th year, paying homage to its origins at the site of Judge Granger’s homestead.

The Birth of Forest Lawn Cemetery 

Prior to being formally consecrated as a cemetery in the summer of 1850, the land belonged to a man named Erastus Granger. Granger built his homestead and farm on the northernmost parcel, working the tillable parts of the hilly terrain. 

He was appointed superintendent of the Six Nations Agency by President Thomas Jefferson where he maintained a close relationship with the Seneca Nation, one of the tribes that occupied the region. 

After Granger died, Buffalo attorney William D. Clarke purchased the 80-acre estate from his widow and two sons. Clarke intended to establish a rural garden cemetery on the site, which was a mix of dense forest and meadows. This topography is how the cemetery earned its name, Forest Lawn. 

When graveyards were associated with disease, cemeteries were built in rural areas and acted as gorgeous greenspaces.

The Rise of the Rural Cemetery 

By the late 1800s, a growing fear of disease led to a change in the way people thought about death and burial. Cramped and overcrowded church graveyards were seen as unsanitary and as a threat to public health. People began to seek out more peaceful and bucolic settings for their loved ones’ final resting places, which led to the rise of the rural cemetery movement. 

The location of these cemeteries was often outside city limits for both hygienic and aesthetic reasons. They were beautiful greenspaces, with forested groves, meandering footpaths and elaborate monuments. One of the most famous examples is Père Lachaise in Paris, France. Founded in 1804, it quickly became the blueprint for many others. 

As cities expanded, rural cemeteries like Forest Lawn were swallowed up by urban sprawl. Although they were no longer considered “rural” in the traditional sense, they retained their pastoral beauty and tranquil atmosphere. 

The monument to Seneca Nation chief Sagoyewatha, also known as Red Jacket, stands atop a column inside the Delaware Ave entrance. He got his nickname from the red wool British infantry coat he wore during the American Revolution. 

Famous Graves: Millard Fillmore and Friends

Forest Lawn has its share of famous residents, including: Millard Fillmore, the 13th president of the United States; John J. Albright and Seymour H. Knox, the founders of the Albright-Knox Art Gallery; Red Jacket, the orator and chief of the Seneca Nation, who supported the neutrality of his nation during the War of 1812; and George Norman Pierce, the creator of the Pierce-Arrow Motor Car. 

But Wally and I were more interested in seeing a few of the more unusual monuments of its permanent residents. 

These eight bells were originally part of a set of 43 that was forged in Le Mans, France and hung in the steeple of St. Joseph’s Cathedral.

For Whom the Bell Tolls 

Our first stop was an impressive steel structure holding eight verdigris copper and tin alloy bells. The carillon, located near the main office and wrought iron gates of the Delaware Avenue entrance, has a fascinating history. 

The largest of the group is the Oishei Memorial Bell, dedicated to the late businessman and philanthropist John R. Oishei (pronounced “Oh-shy”). It sits upon an elaborate marble plinth that was taken from the demolished St. Joseph Cathedral, which once stood at the corner of Delaware Avenue and Utica Street. This particular bell weighs in at 1.5 tons (3,000 pounds), and is a testament to the craftsmanship of Bolée et Fils, the French foundry that cast them in 1866. 

The Oishei bell's surface bears the Latin inscription “Laudate Dominum Omnes Gentes,” which means “Praise the Lord, All Ye Nations” — more commonly known as Psalm 117. Note the gargoyles guarding the top of the bell.

The eight bells were originally part of a 43-bell set commissioned by John Timon, the first bishop of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Buffalo. They were intended to hang in the bell tower of St. Joseph’s Cathedral on Franklin Street — but by the time they arrived in Buffalo, Bishop Timon had died. The bells were installed in the belfry, but were too large for its interior and never worked properly. They were eventually removed and put in storage, where they remained until the new St. Joseph Cathedral was built. 

Although the new cathedral was larger and more grand than the previous cathedral, its marble-clad exterior was ill-suited for harsh Buffalo winters. By 1924, the north and south transepts required major repairs, and by 1927, the towers were so unstable that they had to be removed. The bells were once again placed into storage, this time in the sanctuary’s basement. Over the next 48 years, 35 of the original 43 bells were stolen, leaving only eight. 

The second incarnation of the cathedral was demolished, but Michael Dozoretz of Lancaster Steel Service Company salvaged the remaining bells. The aforementioned largest of these  was purchased by Patricia Colby-Oishei and given to Forest Lawn Cemetery in 1975 to commemorate her father. 

Oishei made his fortune by perfecting and marketing wiper blades for cars, which had not yet been widely used in 1916. He founded Trico Products Corporation, which still specializes in integrated windshield wiper systems today. The bell is also a testament to the generosity of the Oishei family, who have donated so much to Buffalo's cultural and charitable institutions. 

The seven additional bells were donated by Dozoretz and suspended from the graceful metal frame above the Oishei Memorial Bell in 2020. They ring on the hour and play the De Profundis, a Latin adverb meaning “Out of the Depths of Sorrow,” as funeral processions enter the cemetery grounds. 

The lavish Blocher Monument (located in Section 11), is hard to miss. Look inside: It depicts Nelson Blocher, son of John and Elizabeth Neff Blocher, in repose. Above his head, a scantily clad angel beckons him to Heaven.

Blocher Monument: A Tragic Tale of Love and Loss

Our next stop was the Blocher Monument, one of the most unusual and elaborate memorials in Forest Lawn Cemetery. Architecturally speaking, it resembles a folly, or perhaps a mechanical clock, ready to spring to life. The towering structure is topped by a fanciful two-tiered bell-shaped affair that reminds me of the pink cable knit hat worn by the cartoon character Dumb Donald on The Adventures of Fat Albert, complete with a pompom on top. It reportedly weighs 29 tons, is supported by five pilasters, and is enclosed in plate glass. (I almost don’t even want to tell you what Wally thought it looked like. Oh fine: He called it the Butt Plug.)

There are three crypts beneath a moveable slab in the floor — one for each of the Blocher parents and their son, Nelson. Rumor has it there was a fourth reserved for Nelson’s long-lost love, Katherine. 

According to local lore, Nelson Blocher, the only child of John and Elizabeth Blocher, was caught up in an unfortunate affair. A bachelor at age 34, he fell madly in love with Katherine Margaret Sullivan, the family’s 20-year-old maid. Once their relationship was discovered, Nelson’s parents were keen to end it. They felt that Katherine was beneath their son's social standing, so they sent him off to Italy on a buying trip to purchase leather goods for the family business and dismissed her. 

When he returned from Italy, he was heartbroken to discover that Katherine was gone. Some say that Nelson searched for her in vain, while others maintained that he returned home with a mysterious illness. Whatever the truth may be, Nelson’s health declined rapidly, and he died a year later at the age of 37. 

Devastated by their son's untimely death, John and Elizabeth commissioned an elaborate monument to commemorate his life. The four life-sized figures rendered in white marble were sculpted by the Swiss-born Italian artist Frank Torrey. The centerpiece of the memorial features Nelson reclining in repose, one leg folded beneath the other, clutching the one earthly possession left behind by Katherine: a Bible. 

His parents gaze at his passive supine form. Nelson’s father, John, made his fortune from real estate investments and footwear manufacturing. His figure stands with his right arm resting on a broken pillar, symbolizing a life cut short. His mother, Elizabeth, holds a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a single rose in the other, depicting the bond between mother and child. A winged angel hovers above Nelson, holding a floral crown, presumably to be placed on the young man’s head as he ascends to Heaven.

The Firemen's Monument (Section 8) boasts a 17-foot-tall granite pedestal engraved with the names of the Buffalo firefighters who had died by 1901 battling the blazes that ravaged the city, which was primarily constructed of wood. It’s surrounded by concentric circles of additional firefighter graves. 

Exploring Forest Lawn Cemetery  

While Wally and I were walking through the cemetery, we met a woman from Savannah, Georgia, who was spending the afternoon sightseeing while her son was getting settled at nearby Canisius College. As we chatted with her, she enthusiastically gushed about having seen the grave of Rick James, the singer-songwriter of “Super Freak” fame, an ’80s hit that celebrated a kinky girl — “the kind you don’t take home to mother.”

According to our new acquaintance, it was the coolest thing she’d seen all day and it wasn’t far from where we were headed. She indicated that it was just up the road to the left. We thanked her for the tip and continued to follow the route with the white, yellow and blue stripes. 

The chapel at Forest Lawn dates back to 1882 and was constructed of stone taken from the cemetery’s own onsite quarry. The angel statue is in remembrance of lost children.

After consulting the map we had picked up at the Delaware and West Delavan Avenue entrance, Wally suggested we follow the yellow line that leads to the cemetery's “mausoleums.” As we rounded a bend, I spotted the Egyptian Revival memorial for Edwin Gilbert and his wife Mary Ellen. 

The white granite monument features a raised pedestal with sloping sides, a cavetto cornice adorned with a winged sun disk and the name “E. Gilbert” engraved vertically on the front. Atop the pedestal is an imposing sphinx, likely inspired by the one at Giza. Gilbert was a maltster, a maker of malt, which is the main ingredient used to make beer, along with water. He was also a member of Buffalo’s Merchant Exchange. The cartouche on the sphinx’s chest includes hieroglyphics of an ankh, a reed and water. 

A reclining sphinx wearing the traditional nemes headcloth of Egyptian royalty sits atop a large pedestal with the name “E. Gilbert”‘ engraved on the front. It can be found in Section 8.

We forged ahead and somehow managed to bypass James’ headstone. Meanwhile, we found ourselves circling Mirror Lake. That was okay with me, because I had wanted to see the Three Graces fountain. It’s a replica of the original statuary designed in 1909 by Charles Cary Rumsey for the Hudson Valley estate of his future father-in-law, Edward Henry Harriman. Rumsey was the son of a prominent Buffalo family, and he was also Laurence Rumsey Goodyear’s uncle. 

The bronze sculpture beautifully depicts the three daughters of Zeus and Euryoneme, each of whom has a unique gift to bestow on humanity: Aglaia (Elegance), Eurphersyne (Mirth) and Thalia (Youthful Beauty). The fountain was placed in Mirror Lake in 1987 to commemorate Goodyear’s 40th year of service on the Board of Trustees of Forest Lawn. 

The original Three Graces fountain was commissioned for sculptor Charles Cary Rumsey’s father-in-law, railroad magnate E.H. Harriman for his palatial Hudson River estate, Arden House. A replica decorates Mirror Lake.

Like other cemeteries of the period, waterfront property was in high demand. Many impressive mausoleums skirt the pond’s edge. 

Waterfront property is desirable even for the dead.

This white marble memorial honors George Kingsley Birge, who lead both M.H. Birge & Sons, a renowned wallpaper manufacturer, and the George Pierce Company, which produced the Pierce-Arrow automobile, once favored by presidents and Hollywood elite.

The second time we encountered our new friend was by the gravestone of Sarah M. Hinson (1841-1926). If you, like me, have memories of placing your hand over your heart and reciting the Pledge of Allegiance every morning in elementary school, you can trace this tradition back to this woman. Hinson is remembered as a patriotic Buffalo schoolteacher who was passionate about teaching her students to respect the American flag. She chose June 14, 1891, as the date for her first Flag Day celebration because it was the day in 1777 when Congress officially recognized the Stars and Stripes of our national flag. Buffalonians affectionately refer to her as the Mother of Flag Day, which was proclaimed an official holiday by President Woodrow Wilson in 1916. 

Aspiration, a bronze statue of a cloaked female figure is the work of sculptor Harriet Frishmuth. Cast in 1926, it commemorates iron mogul William A. Rogers and his wife, Eleanor Stillman Rogers. 

Wally and I had deviated from the yellow lined route after realizing the “mausoleums” were actually just the places that hold cremated remains at Forest Lawn. We complained  about how hard it was to navigate the cemetery. (Hinson’s grave is in Section 1, and we were trying to locate Section 7 — despite the difference between numbers, we were actually quite close.) 

Ms. Savannah admitted that she had gotten turned around in her car a few times. She then proceeded to share a personal story about her supernatural experience, telling us how she had captured a ghost of a woman in a photo she took while visiting the Pirates’ House, a historic tavern in Savannah that was made famous in the book Treasure Island. 

Apparently she had brought a spirit home with her. After her son saw her doppelgänger and freaked out, Ms. Savannah decided it was time to exorcize the spirit from her home. So she made a pilgrimage to the Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp in Florida, which was founded in 1894 by George P. Colby, an itinerant medium from Pike, New York. The town is home to a century-old community of mediums and healers who believe people retain their identity after death as spirits. She finished her commentary by mentioning that her son made her promise not to bring any non-corporeal guests back from her visit to Forest Lawn. We said goodbye and continued to search for the permanent residence of Isaiah H. Hughes. 

Obelisks were all the rage at Forest Lawn — and we couldn’t figure out which one was for the magician known as the Fakir of Ava.

I had intended to find the modest memorial to Hughes, a magician and illusionist known as the exotic Fakir of Ava. It’s located in the elusive Section 7 of the cemetery, but today was not going to be the day. Additionally, I wasn’t sure about the scale of his obelisk, which was clearly a popular type of monument. There were an impressive amount at Forest Lawn, and they all started to look similar. Ultimately, it eluded us and we were unable to locate it. 

A Tough Cemetery to Navigate 

The cemetery grounds are well maintained, but at 269 acres, its scale is vast and navigating it on foot with a loosely detailed map proved to be more challenging than we expected. Sections aren’t clearly marked, and the numerical sequences that date to the cemetery’s opening were often jumbled. For example, Section 5 adjoins Sections 16 and 21. In hindsight, I’d suggest visiting Forest Lawn by car or by taking one of their docent-led tours. 

Although Wally and I didn’t get to see everything we wanted at Forest Lawn, we still had a memorable day. We met an interesting individual, and will definitely be back to explore more. –Duke 

Forest Lawn Cemetery 

1411 Delaware Avenue
Buffalo, New York 
USA