Time Travel: Hello Girls

 by Susan Zehnder, Education Director

In Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court (1889), a character travels back in time to the medieval era. Observing the behavior of damsels in those days, he asserts that “the humblest hello-girl along ten thousand miles of wire could teach gentleness, patience, modesty, manners, to the highest duchess in Arthur’s land.” He’s talking about the women who worked as switchboard operators.  

Operators, known as hello-girls, were an important part of the early telephone business. The technology of transmitting the human voice using telephone wires had been patented by Alexander Graham Bell in 1876. Then, to make a phone call, one would lift the receiver which would automatically connect to a switchboard where an operator or hello-girl would answer. The operator would ask which number you wanted and would physically connect the wires. This was called the manual telephone system.

By the end of the 1870s, Chemung County’s first telephone was installed. It was located at Charles Tomlinson’s photography studio on Baldwin Street, and it was soon connected to a similar telephone at the Western Union Telegraph office across the street. The intent was to encourage others to invest in and embrace the new technology.

When Elmira’s first phone book was published in 1880, Tomlinson was not listed. That first book contained 42 subscriber names, their addresses, and phone numbers. Numbers were assigned starting with the number 1. Of the listings, only 4 of these were private residences, including number 29, which belonged to the Langdon mansion, the home of Mark Twain’s in-laws. By the end of that same year Elmira’s phone system had grown to over 100 subscribers. It is not known how many hello-girls were employed.

The job of a hello-girl was a desirable profession open to young women. It offered pay and social status. But on average women stayed in these positions for only three years, so there was a lot of turnover. In larger cities, like New York, businesses attracted applicants by offering amenities like libraries and parlors to lounge in during rest hours, or boat excursions, theater visits, and art museum parties to entertain them. Of course, all of this was under proper supervision. The work they did was critical to the success of the telephone. Sometimes they connected 100 to 225 calls an hour and they were often pushed to handle more.

In response to operator complaints about working conditions, the U.S. Labor Commissioner compiled a report for the Senate in 1910. The report was hundreds of pages long and was not shared with the workers.

The report covered applicants, training, and culture. The majority of hello-girls were unmarried. Of the 6,152 young women who applied to be hello-girls, 2,229 were deemed not eligible because they were too small, too old, unwilling to work on Jewish holidays, not vaccinated, or lacked in personal appearance. That last one is puzzling since the public never saw them, just heard their voices. Hello-girls were required to have a calm manner, be clear-eyed, with a rosy complexion, and have a good appetite. Anyone that met these requirements attended special schools to learn the expected professional protocol. The commissioner found that “the loyalty and esprit de corps among telephone girls is greater than in any other industry in the country.” The report concluded that the hello-girls had nothing to complain about.

As technology changed, the role of the hello-girl changed. Chemung County continued to use the manual telephone system until 1952, when it shifted to the dial system, and all the local hello-girls were let go. Local phone numbers changed to include four digits about this time.

Some things regarding those old telephones do persist. We continue to dial a number when making a call, and we reach someone, which might reflect back to when wires had to be manually connected. Gone are phone booths, phone books and memorizing numbers because they are automatically saved in the phones we carry in our pockets. Today many people making a phone call don’t expect to actually reach a human being, preferring instead to send a text message. Is this a modern telegraph?

Our latest exhibit, Then & Now: How Everyday Objects Have Changed Over Time, includes a variety of telephones from our collection, including one we invite you to dial yourself.  You may not be able to time-travel, but do come see this and other relics from the past.

The Bicentennial Bridge

by Erin Doane, Senior Curator

If someone asked you where the Bicentennial Bridge in Elmira is, could you tell them? Until a short time ago, I couldn’t have. My recent research into how we celebrated the 200^th birthday of the United States 50 years ago led me to this information. On July 17, 1976, the new bridge spanning the Chemung River at Main Street was dedicated. While it was not officially part of the County’s festivities for the momentous year, the bridge was dubbed the Bicentennial Bridge.

The first Main Street bridge was chartered in 1853. The original bridge was replaced in 1873 after suffering from flood and fire damage in the 1860s. Just under 50 years later, in 1921, it was replaced once again. By the early 1960s, the bridge was again showing signs of age. The sidewalks were repaired in 1963 as they were crumbling in several spots and dangerous holes had developed. Deterioration continued into 1968 when major repairs were recommended by a private engineering firm. Some repairs were made and a 5-ton limit on vehicles was put into place.

Main Street bridge, mid-20^th century

The Flood of 1972 further damaged the 51-year-old bridge. The Army Corps of Engineers discovered weaknesses in the southern span of the bridge at that time and repairs were made to shore it up. The bridge reopened but was limited to two lanes of traffic.

View under the Main Street Bridge following the 1972 flood

Despite the repairs, in December 1974, city officials closed the Main Street Bridge as it was deemed unsafe for public use.  The piers on the south end of the bridge appeared in good condition but an inspection crew found serious damage under the floor of the bridge. The concrete had crumbled away allowing the steel supports to rust.

Early the next year, plans were in place to construct an entirely new bridge. Phase one of the project was the demolition of the existing bridge. On October 14, 1975, Dawn Webb, wife of the Elmira building superintendent, got to press the button that blew up the first of four spans of the bridge. Unfortunately, no announcement had been made that the demolition was going to take place, and the city police received over 30 concerned phone calls. No warning had been given to local residents because officials were worried that people would gather to see the demolition and possibly get injured. That was a reasonable concern. Even without official notice, people came out onto nearby rooftops to watch. Some reported bits of rubble falling near them from the explosion. Fortunately, no one was hurt.

Concept drawing of the new Main Street bridge, May 8, 1975

City officials promised that the new bridge would be open by Thanksgiving 1976. Through tremendous efforts put forth by contractors and workers at all stages of construction, the bridge opened four months early on July 17, 1976. The entire $3.5 million project was completed within 19 months from initial planning and design through the completion of construction. The new bridge was ceremoniously dubbed the Bicentennial Bridge and Mayor John M. Kennedy Jr. called it an “avenue of unity joining the citizens of Elmira.”

The Bicentennial Bridge right after its opening on, July 17, 1976

The first people over the bridge represented modes of transportation from the city’s past. Teenagers Cindy Dixon of Elmira and Pamela Collins of Wellsburg crossed the bridge from the Southside to the Northside astride Pamela’s horse Lady Shamrock. Daniel J. Bednarek of Elmira and his brother Brian crossed from the Northside to the Southside inside a 1940 Nash.

The Nash and Lady Shamrock passing each other on the Bicentennial Bridge, July 17, 1976

The opening of the Bicentennial Bridge was a momentous event in a celebratory year. Local businesses used the bridge in their advertisements as a location that people readily recognized. Central Radio, for example, was “just over the Bicentennial Bridge.” But the name didn’t stick. After 1980, the “Bicentennial Bridge” no longer appeared in the local newspaper. Everyone seemed to have gone back to simply calling it the Main Street bridge. 50 years later, it’s not surprising if you’re not familiar with Elmira’s Bicentennial Bridge.

 

Racial Housing Covenants

 by Rachel Dworkin, archivist

In February 1958, Ganung Realty Company listed 917 Lake Street in Elmira for sale. The spacious home had 4 bedrooms, 1 bath, an attic playroom, multiple fireplaces, and an enclosed front porch. It also boasted a 2-car garage and a fenced-in back yard perfect for pets. The list price as $10,800 or approximately $125,000 in today’s dollars. There was one catch: no coloreds.

917 Lake Street

 

917 Lake Street realtor's notes.

Real covenants, or legal agreements related to land use, have a long history in American law. These agreements can be between the current owner and buyer, between the current owner and all future buyers, and between neighbors as in a home owners’ association. Covenants can lay out an action which must be performed or forbid an action. In the case of covenants between owners and buyers, the terms of the agreement are written right into the deed of sale. Up until fairly recently, it was legal to restrict the race of who could buy or rent a property.

In America, the first racially restrictive housing covenants emerged in the mid-19^th century. They didn’t become widespread, however, until 1917 when the Supreme Court struck down race-based municipal zoning laws in the case Buchanan v. Warley. White landowners turned to racial covenants to keep racial minorities out of their neighborhoods. The specific language used varied wildly. Some simply specified that owners must be white or American-born. Others named specific groups blocked from buying, most often Blacks, but frequently including Asians, Jews, and immigrants.

Locally, there is little evidence of racial zoning laws. There were, however, multiple housing developments with racial restrictions. From 1914 through 1916, the Glen View Manor development, located in West Elmira between Water and Church Streets across from Rorick’s Glen, was billed as “fully restricted” and “carefully restricted” with “not a lot sold to an undesirable party.” The Fairfax development, located on the Southside off Broadway, was more explicit with regard to racial segregation. A 1929 ad proudly proclaimed the development was restricted to white people only. Just a year later, the Blemont tract, between Lake and Grand Central Avenue on the northside, was similarly restricted. Most of West Elmira’s post-war construction was advertised as being a “restricted neighborhood.”

Ad for Fairfax development, June 28, 1929

 Civil rights activists did not take this lying down. The NAACP (National Association for the Advancement of Colored People) and various buyers of color brought a series of lawsuits related to racial covenants. In 1926, the Supreme Court upheld them as legal in Corrigan v. Buckley as they were private and not government action. In 1948, however, the court reversed course in Shelley v. Kraemer, finding that, while having a housing covenant in and of itself didn’t violate the Fourteenth Amendment, using a court to enforce it did. Despite this, homeowners continued to use racial covenants until 1968 when Title VIII of the Civil Rights Act, better known as the Fair Housing Act, explicitly prohibited racial covenants and discrimination against renters and buyers based on race, color, religion, or nation of origin. The law was later expanded to include sex, family status, disability, and LGBTQ status.

Despite no longer being legal, the effects of racial housing covenants still linger today. The racist language is still written into historic deeds and appears on abstracts of title. Moreover, the economic impact still persists. Multiple generations of Black families were unable to build generational wealth through homeownership. Generally speaking, homeownership accounts for as much as two-thirds of individual household wealth. White families are four times more likely to inherit a house or received funds from the sale of one as Black families. Economists estimate that between 12 and 16% of the nation’s persistent racial wealth gap stems from this disparity. The house on Lake Street was far from an isolated incident and racial covenants restricted far more than where people could live.

 

When Lovell’s Drug Store Ran Out of Ice Cream

by Erin Doane, Senior Curator

Postcard of a watercolor painting of Lovell’s Snack Bar by Talitha Botsford

“Sorry! No More Ice Cream This Month!” read the advertisement in the Star-Gazette. It was November 15, 1944 and Lovell’s Drug Store has sold its quota of ice cream for the month. World War II was raging, cream and sugar were being rationed, and a milk shortage was looming. Yet, people still wanted their ice cream and local sellers were allowed a certain amount each month.

Star-Gazette, November 15, 1944

Lovell’s Drug Store at 1131 Lake Street had been in business for over 40 years by the time the U.S. entered World War II. It was started by Charles Lovell in 1900. Charles was born in Elmira in 1872. He attended School No. 4 (now Diven School) then went to the Elmira Free Academy. In 1891, he began his apprenticeship at E.A. Jones Drug Store. With the hands-on experience and correspondence courses, he passed the examination of the state board of pharmacy in 1897 and became a licensed pharmacist.

Charles Lovell and his wife Stella, c. 1900

He went to work at Hooker & Dorr’s Drug Store at the corner of Main and 3rd Streets in 1898. That same year, he was elected as a member of the New York Pharmaceutical Association.

Hooker & Dorr’s Drug Store, 1890s

Two years later, when an opportunity to purchase Frederick A. West’s drug store at 1134 Lake Street came up, Charles took it. In 1905, he moved the store across the road to 1131 Lake Street. Along with selling pharmaceuticals and health-related items, Charles added a soda fountain which offered ice cream and other treats. In later years, there was also a wide selection of candy and comic books that were enjoyed by students at near-by Diven School. 

Lovell’s Drug Store, 1908

Interior of Lovell’s Drug Store, Charles standing at left, 1910

Clayton Lovell took over the business from his father in 1939, though Charles remained working as pharmacist at the store until about a year before his death in 1953. It was Clayton who had to deal with the ice cream shortages in the 1940s.  

Ice cream had become an important part of the United States’ armed forces starting in World War I. On Navy hospital ships, ice cream was considered a nutritious, healthful food for sick and injured sailors and soldiers. By World War II, ice cream was officially designated by the War Production Board as a “wartime essential” alongside medical supplies and ammunition. Battleships and aircraft carriers were equipped with ice cream making machinery. Not only was ice cream considered important for health as a good source of vitamins, proteins, and minerals, it was also good for morale.

Members of the Women’s Ambulance and Defense Corps enjoying ice cream, 1944

Two of the main ingredients of ice cream, sugar and cream, were rationed on the home front to make sure the military had enough. In January 1944, it was reported that four-fifths of New York State’s milk and ice cream stocks had been taken to supply the troops. That year, there was concern that there would be a nationwide milk shortage as dairy farmers suffered from feed scarcity and lack of manpower and equipment for their operations. Fortunately, they were able to overcome these difficulties and by May 1944 more ice cream was promised for civilians. The War Food Administration approved the manufacture of about 30 million more gallons of ice cream for consumers at home.

Lovell’s advertisement, Star-Gazette, June 27, 1945

That boost really helped the local supply. In both February and March of 1944, Lovell’s Drug Store had run out of its quota of ice cream before the end of the month. They didn’t run short again until November 1944. The demand for ice cream at Lovell’s exceeded demand again in 1945 when sugar allotments were cut for manufacturers of sweets. In every month from the beginning of the year through August, except for May, Lovell’s ran out of ice cream. In February, they had already gone through their quote by the 12^th. The supply picked up right after the war ended in September 1945 and Lovell’s never advertised being out of ice cream again.

Back before the war, in 1939, Harry Pack started working at Lovell’s as a part-time carhop for the soda fountain. He was 16 years old at the time. In 1957, he bought the store from the Lovell family and kept the name, running it as Lovell’s Gay Nineties Original Soda Fountain. Harry’s grandson Theodore “Ted” Pack, Jr. took over operations in 1993 and ran it for two more years before having to close for good in 1995. The building was torn down in 2012, but many people have fond memories of the store, its ice cream treats, and the generations of families who served them.

Lovell’s advertisement, Star-Gazette, August 13, 1966

 

The AIDS Memorial Quilt: 40 Years Later

 by Erin Doane, Senior Curator

In 1981, doctors in Los Angeles reported a rare lung infection in five previously healthy young gay men. Doctors in New York and California also reported cases of a rare, aggressive cancer among gay men. This was the start of the AIDS Epidemic. In September 1982, the U.S. CDC used the term Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS) for the first time. French researchers discovered that a retrovirus caused AIDS and it was official named Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV) in 1986.

Between 1980 and 1987, more than 1,000 San Franciscans died of AIDS. In June 1987, Cleve Jones gathered a small group in that city “to take all of our individual experiences, and stitch them together to make something that had strength and beauty.” That was how the AIDS Memorial Quilt was born. Jones, along with Mike Smith, Gert McMullin, and several others, established the NAMES Project Foundation to formally organize their efforts.

Word of the Quilt project spread quickly to major cities throughout the country. On October 11, 1987, the NAMES Project Foundation displayed the AIDS Memorial Quilt for the first time in Washington, D.C., laying out nearly 2,000 panels on the Capitol Mall. Each fabric panel measures 3-feet by 6-feet and nine panels are sewn together into a 12-foot by 12-foot block. 

Pieces of the quilt were first displayed in the Southern Tier in the late 1980s. In 1989, the Arnot Art Museum hosted two 12-foot by 12-foot blocks while the Corning Museum of Glass and the Rockwell Museum each hosted one. Arnot Art Museum director John D. O’Hern called the Quilt a moving artifact saying, “AIDS doesn’t just affect statistics, it affects people.”

Arnot Art Museum director John D. O’Hern with 
an AIDS Quilt block, Star-Gazette, November 24, 1989

More displays took place throughout the 1990s including at Elmira College, Ithaca College, Cornell University, Corning Community College, Binghamton University, Schuyler-Chemung-Tioga BOCES in Horseheads, the Steele Memorial Library, and the Southern Steuben County Library in Corning.

Evelyn O’Buckley (left) and Wendy Richardson at Elmira College with one of six new 
local AIDS Quilt panels in the background, Star-Gazette, December 12, 1990

Nine blocks of the AIDS Memorial Quilt, made up of 472 individual panels, were laid out at the Murray Athletic Center (the Domes) in Horseheads April 20-22, 1996. Panels on display included those of famous people who had died of AIDS including Rock Hudson, Freddy Mercury, Liberace, Robert Mapplethorpe, and Ryan White. The event was sponsored by Elmira College, Arnot Ogden Medical Center, The Southern Tier AIDS Program, the Southern Tier Interfaith Coalition, Planned Parenthood of the Southern Tier, the Chemung County Health Department, and the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. Donations benefitted the Southern Tier AIDS Program, Southern Tier Hospice, HIV Primary Care Clinic at the Arnot Ogden Medical Center, and AIDS Rochester.

Visitors to the event were encouraged to sign their names and share their thoughts on a 12-foot by 12-foot signature block. Over the course of three days, nearly 5,000 people visited the Quilt, including 1,925 students.

Horseheads host signature block created during the Quilt display at the Domes, 
April 20-22, 1996, in the collection of the Chemung County Historical Society

During the event, 29 new panels honoring local residents who had died of AIDS were dedicated and added to the Quilt. One of the panels was made in honor of Rick Teachman, a local AIDS activist. Teachman tested positive for HIV in 1986. He began volunteering with the Chemung County AIDS Task Force and was its president by 1993. He was one of the first people in the Twin Tiers to publicly admit to having the disease and made about 200 speeches around the region trying to put a face on the epidemic. He died on February 10, 1996 at the Arnot Ogden Medical Center due to complication from AIDS. He was 34 years old.

Rick Teachman’s panel being dedicated during the Quilt 
display at the Domes, Star-Gazette, April 22, 1996

When the AIDS Memorial Quilt was on display in Horseheads, the Star-Gazette published statistics on AIDS in the Southern Tier. Local cases of AIDS increased between June 1993 to April 1995:
    ·        Chemung: from 39 cases to 63 
    ·        Tioga: from 9 cases to 16
    ·        Steuben: from 20 cases to 34
    ·        Schuyler: from 5 cases to 11

At the height of the epidemic in the early 1990s, nearly 80,000 new cases of HIV were being reported in the U.S. each year with more than 50,000 deaths. Educational campaigns, the increased availability of HIV testing, and the use of pre-exposure prophylaxis (PrEP) and antiretroviral therapy (ART) after exposure have contributed to a decline in new cases and deaths. In 2022, 31,800 new cases of HIV were reported along with 19,310 deaths. Today, more than 1.2 million people in the United States are living with HIV. 

The AIDS Memorial Quilt is considered the largest community art project in history. Today, the 54-ton tapestry has roughly 50,000 panels with more than 110,000 names. It has increased public awareness of the AIDS epidemic through thousands of displays around the country and helped to show the humanity behind the statistics. The Quilt is now under the stewardship of the National AIDS Memorial. You can visit www.aidsmemorial.org for more information about how to create a Quilt panel, make a donation, or host a community display. The National AIDS Memorial has also digitized all of the Quilt panels and created an interactive website where you can search for the panels of friends and loved ones.

The 1996 Horseheads host signature block is on display at CCHS now through April 30, 2026.

Natsue Yogi Kobayashi Co-founder & Director of Elmira’s Second Place East Shelter

  by Judith Edson Sheasley, a volunteer at CCHS

“Strengthening the fabric of family life” was the goal of Elmira’s First Methodist Church (which stood on Baldwin Street north of West Church Street on what is now Elm Chevrolet property and was demolished in 1972) when it established its Eastside Neighborhood Ministry in 1965. It was considered a pioneering step for a church mission effort. The program’s success was credited to Natsue Kobayashi, who, in January 1965, was appointed as a part-time case worker to work with families on Elmira’s Eastside. One of her notable accomplishments was establishing a food pantry from which many people were helped.

Natsue’s approach was always to build trust by establishing rapport with her clients. She accompanied them to interviews for employment and to family or criminal court hearings and helped them obtain financial and medical assistance and babysitters and tutors for their children. And then, she gave credit to her clients for helping themselves. This endeavor marked the beginning of a lifetime dedicated to serving Elmira’s underprivileged neighbors.

Natsue Yogi Kobayashi

Natsue Yogi Kobayashi was born in Okinawa, Japan in 1934. At the age of nine she and her family, consisting of her grandmother, mother, and five children between the ages of one and nine, were evacuated to Taiwan before the expected invasion of Okinawa by U.S. forces during World War II. Her father had been drafted into the Japanese Navy two months earlier. Her family was on one of the refugee ships, escorted by other Japanese ships, moving slowly to Taiwan. She remembers vividly the pitch-dark night when everyone was ordered to gather on the deck with life jackets. “We witnessed one of the escorting ships hit a mine, explode and burst into flames before sinking. We had thought the next will be our ship. Scared, we tried to embrace, crying and praying for our safety,” she said. It was during that moment that she realized the existence of God to whom she could pray. While in Taiwan, her family survived numerous air raids, sometimes by standing in knee-high water in underground air raid shelters. One day she and her brother miraculously escaped an air attack from a plane flying so low they could see the pilot’s face as they were running toward the shelter. In a hastily set up tent hospital she also witnessed people whose arms and legs were severed. In one large warehouse in the refugee camp, she watched her grandmother, who gave up her food rations to feed her family, die from illness and malnutrition. These and other wartime experiences of suffering and hunger made an unforgettable imprint on her young mind and later became unforeseen forces in her career choice.

In 1955 Natsue came to the United States on college scholarships. She earned her Bachelor of Arts in Philosophy and Religion from Wayland University in Plainview, Texas and, later, her Master of Science in Education from Elmira College.  She was one year into her Rehabilitation Counseling Master’s degree from the University of Florida, Gainesville, but was unable to complete that degree because her husband, Dr. Teruo Kobayashi, became Assistant Professor of Political Science at Washington College in Chestertown, Maryland. She and Teruo spent three years in Chestertown and, in 1963, moved to Elmira upon his appointment as Assistant Professor of Political Science at Elmira College.

Natsue and Teruo met after she was featured in a newsletter about students from Okinawa. She was studying in Texas at the time and Teruo was working on his Ph.D. at the University of Florida. He saw the article and sent her a note congratulating her and welcoming her to the United States. That began a correspondence and eventual meeting. Shortly before Natsue planned to return to Okinawa after completing her B.A. degree in 1959, Teruo called her and proposed. He said, “Don’t go home.” “That was the turning point. I decided and went down to Florida. We got married in October that year,” she recalled.

Once settled in Elmira, Natsue set out to help others avoid the suffering she could not forget. “I realize my life was spared so that – how should I say – so that I would take this direction and help others,” she said in an interview with the Elmira Star-Gazette.

Her success with the First Methodist Church Eastside Neighborhood Ministry led to her work as a Family Outreach Coordinator, a newly created position at the Neighborhood House.

Neighborhood House

One of her accomplishments in that position was organizing a neighborhood women’s group called the Wednesday Morning Group and assisting them in establishing the “N.H. Luncheonette.” This on-site program provided work experience for women who had no marketable skills as well as part-time work for those whose family responsibilities prevented them from holding full-time jobs.

In the aftermath of the Flood of 1972 and Elmira’s Urban Renewal Program, Natsue found herself distanced from the people she was serving as many families around the Neighborhood House (with the exception of Jones Court) moved farther east in Elmira.  As she surveyed the entire city, she saw a need for a site dedicated to serving the people of the Eastside. The following year, with funding made available from Geneva Human Development of Presbytery, Natsue and Mrs. Marilyn Wellington of Lake Street Presbyterian Church co-founded an outreach service center of the Elmira Neighborhood House and Natsue became the director.

Located at 759 East Second Street and aptly named “Second Place East,” the center provided emergency help, including food, clothing, and counseling for the poor in Elmira. With the avid interest and active involvement of community volunteers, known as “The Friends of Second Place East,” it was in a true sense a grassroots organization.  These volunteers provided furniture and household goods to those leaving the shelter for homes of their own. By 1975, Second Place East services had expanded and the facility had become too congested and difficult to maintain. Thus, it was relocated to 500 Sullivan Street where it continued to offer the same services.

During this time, and especially after the 1972 flood, Chemung County began to experience a bleak economic climate due mainly to the closure of major industries such as Remington Rand in Elmira and the A&P Food Processing Plant in Horseheads. In addition, the Elmira City Rescue Mission and the YMCA, which were housing single males who had no other place to live, closed their doors. Those closings created a large service gap for single males in Elmira and Chemung County which lead to an increase in homelessness. Responding to this urgent community need, in 1987 Second Place East added a shelter to its services with the budgetary support of the Chemung County Human Services Department. Initially, women and children were housed at the shelter and single men were placed in a two-room apartment rented from John Travers Real Estate. For its excellence, Second Place East was recognized that year with one of the Eleanor Roosevelt Community Service Awards by New York State Governor Mario Cuomo.

That same year the Neighborhood House closed due to financial reasons and Second Place East came under the umbrella of the Economic Opportunity Program (EOP) of Chemung and Schuyler Counties. In the ensuing years, the number of homeless grew and the need for a larger facility became obvious.  In 1991, the shelter was relocated to Unit 5 of Jones Court. Thirteen apartments were fully-furnished by The Friends. In 2002, when Jones Court was deemed structurally unfit, Chemung County ordered EOP to hand the shelter program over to Catholic Charities. The facility was moved to 605 College Avenue where it operated as Second Place East and The Friends continued their support.

The following year, The Friends incorporated as a separate entity, which they named “Second Place East, Inc.,” thus maintaining the long-standing connection between The Friends and the shelter. Natsue, now retired, was a founding member and an officer on their Board of Directors.

In 2010, Second Place East, Inc. separated from Catholic Charities and opened The Help for the Home Shop in Our House of Prayer Eternal Church (formerly Christ United Methodist Church) on the corner of West Church and Columbia Streets. In addition, they expanded their outreach to serve clients by referral from churches and other human services agencies in Chemung County. In addition to her Board position, Natsue volunteered faithfully in The Shop.

By providing household goods and personal care items for homeless families who are moving into homes of their own, the organization continues to fulfill its mission of assisting their homeless neighbors. Through these efforts over the past twenty-one years and with the continuing support of churches, hundreds of families have been prevented from returning to homelessness.

In the course of her long and distinguished career Natsue Kobayashi was the recipient of the Chemung County Family Debts Counseling Volunteer of the Year Award (1985), was named a Woman of Distinction by the New York State Senate (1998), and was honored with the Elmira YWCA Lifetime Achievement Award (2011). She also received the Ernie Davis Jr. High School Student Council Community Services Award and was named Woman of the Year by Chemung County Church Women United (1970s).

Natsue’s personal life in the Elmira area included membership in The Society of Friends (The Quakers), flower gardening, cooking, playing tennis and the piano, listening to music and reading books.

From her first appointment in 1965 until her return to Okinawa as a widow in 2021, Natsue worked tirelessly to fulfill her mission.  One small step, a knock on the first door in the first poor neighborhood she visited, marked the beginning of her long and remarkable impact on the Community of Elmira.  Always soft-spoken, humble and kind, but with steadfast determination and never losing sight of her mission, Natsue provided welcome help to those who needed it.

In an interview in 1966 Natsue stated that if she were to apply a verse of Scripture to her work, it could be the words from Acts 3:6: “Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have I give thee.”

The author extends heartfelt appreciation to Natsue Kobayshi, Cheryl Butler, and Kathryn Tolbert for their contributions and invaluable editing skills.