In Memoriam

Barbara Louise (Gray) Weaver, 97
First Lady of Glimmerglass State Park

Barbara Louise (Gray) Weaver, passed away peacefully Sunday, April 25, 2021, in the farmhouse at Gray Gables.

Barbara was predeceased by her husband, Herbert R. Weaver, Jr. and her son, Robert Gray Weaver. She was the daughter of Glenn and Edna (Borst) Gray.

Barbara is remembered by her daughter, Karen Farney; son, Richard Weaver (Dee); her daughter-in-law and caregiver, Renee Weaver; granddaughters, Kerryanne Schenck (Phil) and Kate Weaver (Dave MacDougall); grandson, Marcus Weaver (Trina); and several great-grandchildren.

Barbara was born in the small cottage at Gray Gables on December 12, 1923. She graduated from Springfield Central School and the New York State Institute of Agriculture and Home Economics (now SUNY Cobleskill). Barbara worked alongside her husband, Herb, to operate the Route 20 service station that they built in East Springfield. In 1963 they would leave their home at the station to move a few miles up the road to Glimmerglass State Park. Herb became the first superintendent of the newly established State Park and Barbara would become “First Lady of Glimmerglass Park,” a title she proudly celebrated later in life.

In 1971, Herb and Barbara left East Springfield for his new role as superintendent of Keuka State Park. Although those who knew Barbara think of her as a social butterfly, she would be quick to tell you, this was not always so. Upon their arrival to her first home away from home, she was determined to make friends. Though once shy and
reserved, she blossomed into a volunteer and outgoing community member.

Upon her husband’s passing in 1979, Barbara returned to Springfield where she renewed lifelong friendships and added more along the way.

When there was a community need, Barbara was one of the first to step up, working alongside her late friend, Merle Young. Together, they organized concerts for the benefit of a Signature Band Camp scholarship program and spent hours preparing food for community lunches and benefits at the East Springfield Presbyterian Church. They served countless slices of pie on behalf of the Church at the Springfield Fourth of July parade. In 2011, she and Merle finally took a break from their pie booth duties when, together, they were honored to serve as Grand Marshals of the 97th annual parade. Barbara was proud of this recognition and waved gracefully to the crowds of attendees.

Additional volunteer efforts included assisting the American Red Cross, delivering Meals on Wheels, staining bookshelves for the General James Clinton Library, knitting hats and lap blankets for residents of The Manor, and serving as a lifetime member of the Springfield Fire Department Auxiliary. She was an active supporter of the Springfield Historical Society, helping to organize educational programs and participating in their art shows where she displayed her beautiful watercolor and oil paintings.

Barbara’s family is grateful for the assistance of many neighbors and friends over the years who looked for “the light on the hill,” including but not limited to, Janet and Keith McCarty; Irene Fassett; Evelyn Fassett; Maureen and Fred Culbert.

A private graveside service at Springfield Cemetery in Springfield Center will be scheduled at a later date.To light a candle or send condolences visit www.ottmanfuneralhome.com.
Those who wish, may make a donation in Barbara’s memory to the Springfield Fire Department Auxiliary, PO Box 358, East Springfield, NY 13333.
Arrangements were entrusted to Ottman Funeral Home, Cherry Valley, NY.

I woke to the early morning sun,
“Joy” I said, there’s work to be done.
I grabbed my bonnet and my gloves,
Then I stopped, and listened to a mourning dove.
I found my stakes and string,
And merrily I began to sing.
I marked so straight each row,
Very carefully with my hoe.
Much care I took with every little seed,
Knowing full well I’d have to weed and feed.
I really made much progress,
To this I must confess.
At each tomato plant I drove a stake,
Oh goodness – My back began to ache.
My feet were damp,
Here and there I felt a cramp.
My arms I turned,
To find them badly burned.
My shirt was tore,
My muscles sore.
I turned to face the setting sun,
Thank you Lord –
My day is done.

“Making My Garden,”
by Barbara Gray Weaver