The Rhinecliff Hotel
by Cynthia Owen Philip

The Rhinecliff Hotel's been part of my life ever since I bought my house in the hamlet on a cold dark day in late December 1978. It may even have been one of the deciding factors in my moving there. I liked the hotel's looks. Time worn and unpretentious, it sat on its lot overlooking the railroad tracks and the river as if it had grown out of it. Even in the graying snow, the second story wraparound verandah gave it a laid-back, welcoming warmth.

At the time I was still freelance writing in the city. Too often unable to get to Rhinecliff before Saturday noon, I would stop at the hotel for a BLT and beer before I trudged home up the hill. Either for tradition's or propriety's sake, or because that's where the kitchen is, I'd be ushered past the bar where a clutch of work mates--mostly male--had gathered to watch the football game, up the narrow back stairs to the dining room where a little checker-clothed table by the window would be set for me. It is a big room, but so well proportioned that although I was the only diner, I never felt lost in it. Rather, the view across the river with the sun dancing off the ice floes to the blue Catskills beyond made it positively cozy. The sandwich was perfection. Toast and bacon crisp and hot; lettuce and tomato high winter standard.

Ed Tybus, the proprietor, gradually became my friend. Not many words passed between us--just the right ones. Having bought the hotel in 1946, he had been a presence in the hamlet long enough to know its special ways. Still, compared to most of its residents whose families had been settled there for a century or two (or three) he, like me, was a newcomer. He had chosen to live and work in Rhinecliff. At loose ends after three years fighting in Europe during the Second World War, he scoured the counties on both sides of the river for a place to put down roots. When he saw the hotel, he knew he had at last found it.

Built between 1849 and 1855, just as the coming of New York Central Railroad was making Rhinecliff a major Hudson River Valley transportation hub, the hotel had known boom times, depression times, war times and two owners. The structure was essentially sound, but the pipes and wiring had not been upgraded since the turn of the century. The only heat was from soot-belching kerosene space warmers. It took months of steady work by two good carpenters as well as electricians, plumbers and painters, but refurbish it he did. Tybus's pride in that achievement shines forth from the flyer he wrote to announce its reopening.

"The Rhinecliff Hotel nestles along the east bank of the Hudson in the heart of the river valley. It faces the ever enchanting Hudson against the distant background of the Catskills. From comfortable wicker chairs one can view the daily activity of commercial and pleasure vessels traveling up and down the river. It would be difficult to find a more interesting and picturesque locale. During the warmest weather Rhinecliff remains refreshingly cool and lends itself admirably to a vacation of relaxation and enjoyment of beautiful surroundings."

The hotel could be easily reached by vacationers from New York City via railroad, automobile or a somewhat longer but more fascinating trip on the dayliner, Tybus went on. The food was ample and excellent; home baked pastries, cake and rolls were a specialty. Equally important, there was a well-stocked, fully licensed bar. Several pianos were on hand for group singing and dancing. For further entertainment, vacationers might golf at Red Hook and Staatsburgh or visit the Mills, Vanderbilt and Franklin D. Roosevelt estates. The Dutchess County Fair was a special draw. American plan rates: $30 a week and $5 a day per person.

While building up the excursion trade, Tybus did not neglect his neighbors in the hamlet and residents of outlying communities. The bar was busy. Shuffleboard, ping pong, darts and pool added to the conviviality. Fishermen celebrated their day's catch of ells, crabs, herring, shad and bass there. More than one scion of the great estates found respite from the watchful eyes of domineering relatives while pondering his fate in the long glass mirror.

When the Rhinecliff-Kingston bridge supplanted the ferry in 1957, the hotel's role as a vacation spot disappeared and its clientele became more local. But it remained true to its character. Pete Seeger's sing-ins raising consciousness about Hudson River pollution and money for the Clearwater count as milestones. Rhinecliff is still one of the Clearwater's favorite ports of call; its fall pumpkin sale and concert are highlights of the season. The hotel also served handsomely as a shelter for the Hudson River Ice Yacht Club. One once-in-the-memory-of-man winter in the early 80s the river remained frozen from late January into March, permitting the Club to launch its fleet of nineteenth-century wooden stern-steerers from the Rhinecliff dock. The hotel swarmed with sailors, skaters and chilled spectators warming up their bodies and their souls. The Club's annual dinners held there were deemed the best ever.

From the early days of singing around the piano, music has been a vital part of the hotel's bill of fare. To the delight of Irish and folk music aficionados, an extraordinary variety of artists have played in the downstairs common room, mainly on Sunday afternoons. Sometimes there's a special twist to the concert. Just this past month, for instance, harper Candace Coates presented a program of Renaissance music that included a delicious tea with all the fixings in the price of admission. But the big pull, week in and week out, are Friday and Saturday nights, when the young come from the entire area and amplified music, pool and the bar set the rafters humming.

Anton Tybus, who now manages the hotel for his father, is sprucing it up from top to bottom. The big dining room is painted a lovely terracotta. Those who were lucky enough to attend the dinner put on by the ladies auxiliary of the Rhinecliff Volunteer Fire Company can testify to what a fine space for large-scale festivities it's become. Anton's also tackling the bedrooms, starting with those overlooking the river. On top of that, he's planted a most imaginative cottage garden along the Grinnell Street side of the lot. He sees the hotel as a place for everyone to enjoy themselves--all ages, from near and far.

The good book says: "As your years are so shall your strength be." Here's to the next century and a half of the Rhinecliff Hotel!