On the upstate map, there are places such as Gilboa and Bethel, named by Christians for whom the Catskills scenery was reminiscent of the Holy Land. In a valley next to State Route 28 is the village of Fleischmanns, named for a Jewish industrialist who pioneered Jewish settlement in these mountains. Knowing little about its history, I only knew it as a spot on the map and, on my recent family vacation, curiously departed from the main road to drive through it.
At its western entrance, a set of illustrated signs described how yeast manufacturer Charles Louis Fleischmann acquired properties in Griffin Corners and developed them as summer hotels for Jews. As I prepare for another semester of teaching American Jewish history at Touro College, Fleischmanns was an ideal spot to end the summer break and see what remains of the storied Jewish vacation region.
I was searching for a minyan, but the phone service in this area is weak, so I waved to a chasidic family staying at a roadside motel. They did not seem to understand my English and I was under the impression that Fleischmann’s was an insular bungalow colony where only Yiddish was spoken. I returned to the house that I was renting a few miles from this village, which has Wi-Fi service. GoDaven indicated the nearest minyanim at Fleischmanns, so I drove back in the morning to Oppenheimer’s Regis Hotel.
A hand-painted sign indicated the hotel atop a narrow ramp in a thick forest outside the village. Minivans with license plate frames advertising Maven Motors, Wheels to Lease, and Plaza Auto Leasing meant that everyone here is frum. I parked behind the hotel, where the basketball court had a burned-out bonfire, and the tennis courts were overgrown with untrimmed grass. Photography of abandoned Catskills resorts has become its own genre, but this hotel is very much in business. The conditions of its outdoor amenities spoke of the classic one-liner about a hotel with a golf course. Nobody plays this sport but it’s nice knowing that the hotel has it.
I walked through the lobby where children played cards and chess, a welcome break from the ubiquitous electronics that are possessing their Modern Orthodox peers. The dining room was empty, set up for the meal. How many couples have been matched here in the decades past, when single people met on their own during the summer?
A creaky staircase descended to the ground floor where the social room is used as a day camp. Looking at the stage, how many entertainers began their careers here? The hotel’s shul is the most actively used amenity at Oppenheimer’s, crowded with men learning and davening. The old-timers here shared their memories of the storied hotel.
“The valley in front of it used to have a lake, we went boating here,” one told me. “It was called Lake Switzerland.” It fits with the identity of the Catskills as the Jewish Alps, a humorous take on the much grander mountains that were out of reach to most Jewish vacationers a century ago.
In the lobby, a large black and white photo of the hotel shows the sizable building overlooking the lake. Developed as the St. Regis Hotel, it has the look of a grand European hotel, with the scenery and amenities that lived up to its name and the corresponding lake.
“The Oppenheimer family bought it in 1972. The owner lived in Lakewood,” another man shared. Kurt Oppenheimer died last month at 98, being among the oldest and longest residents of that town, when it was better known for its own summer resorts rather than the yeshivah that now defines Lakewood to most people. Under his administration, the “Saint” was dropped from the name and it was marketed to frum Jews who appreciated its kosher meals, eruv, and the swimming pool with separate gender times.
The village also hosts summer communities of Spinka and Satmar chasidim, who have their own shuls and mikvaos. The scenery here hearkens to the Carpathian Mountains of western Ukraine and Hungary, and Jews weren’t the only immigrant group to take note of the visual similarity.
In the town of Jewett, putting aside its name, there is a wooden Ukrainian church and accompanying buildings that offer shtetl scenery for a feel of the old country. For Jews, there are wooden shuls in Hunter, Tannersville, and Woodbourne for a similar experience. In Fleischmanns, the century-old Congregation Bnai Israel used to be Orthodox before it became egalitarian. Its design seemed like a Jewish take on Grant Wood’s painting American Gothic.
The dated furniture and worn carpets at Oppenheimer’s may not appear inviting to some travelers, but for me it was satisfying to see an old-time hotel still in business when so many have shut their doors over the past generation. Perhaps an idealistic investor can step up and give this hotel an upgrade. Not to romanticize the experience, because in the 1990s, my parents booked a stay at a bungalow colony where the air conditioner was broken, springs protruded from the mattress, and the bedbugs followed us home. We also stayed at The Pines shortly before it closed in 1998. It was a better experience, but with relatively few guests to fit its 400 rooms, it was clear that the expenses outgrew the revenue.
Not to say that everything in Fleischmanns is a fixer-upper. Closer to the center of the village, The Palace Hotel is a smaller structure that has marble floors, a brightly-lit interior, and a mikvah. Having visited cities with world-class museums and amusement parks with thrilling rides, Fleischmanns offers a different type of vacation involving hiking, apple picking, and swimming in the creeks. Following the excitement of summer camp and preceding the rigors of the school year, a week in the Catskills was the perfect respite at the end of the summer.
By Sergey Kadinsky
