Monday, August 30, 1999
Words and pictures by: Victoria
Member, CN and DHP mailinglists
As many of you may know, one of the five pillars of the Islam religion is to make a pilgrimage to their holy land, Mecca. We all know Maris Crane made a pilgrimage to her holy land, Dallas, Texas, the site of the first Neiman Marcus. But on Friday, August 20 I made the pilgrimage to my holy land, Saratoga Springs, the birthplace of David Hyde Pierce. OK, holy land might be pushing it a tad, but we mustn't be sticklers. :) But the story goes on...
My parents and I arrived on Friday night, but we didn't start our sightseeing till the next day. We were only there until Sunday and there was lots to see. But we figured we would let the wind carry us and see where we end up.
In the spirit of this attitude, the following day our first stop was the Saratoga Performing Arts Center. It's an outdoor stadium so you could only get in when there are actual performances. However, I was able to get a picture of the sign and the following day, get a picture of the stage (there was a Kenny Rogers concert that night). I could almost picture David wearing his security uniform. :) After this our next stop was the Saratoga Springs Visitor Center. As I approached the front desk, browsing through the brochures, the desk attendant asked me to sign the book. "Sure," I responded. As I filled out the questions I began to laugh at the sight of one of them. "Mommy, come look at this," I chuckled. Curious, the man asked, "So, why are you visiting." A bit shy about answering truthfully, I just responded, "Well, my reasons are a bit different from my parents." Keeping up with our "free spirit" vacation approach, my mother blurted (which is unusual from her), "Well she likes DHP." Well, I thought, this man could think I am some kind of a nut case or I'm just a crush-indulged 19 year old, but I never expected the response I received. "Oh, I went to school with him." Well, let me just say I'm glad I don't have a weak bladder. You know David?! Did I actually hear correctly? When he saw my amazed expression, he began to laugh and continued to tell me that David still visits and contributes to charities. Once again, keeping up with spontaneity, my mother tells him, "She would like to find his house so we are going to try." Now, this was my plan but I had no positive expectations in mind. I mean, what are we to do, search each and every block. But, I thought, this is fine because I'm just happy to be there. Well, upon hearing my mother's statement, he bends down and takes out a map. "Well, here we are at the visitor's center..." Was I really witnessing this? Was he really giving me directions? His only concern was that I may not find it because I didn't know how it looked. Oh, but what he didn't realize was that he was in the presence of a DHP maniac. "Oh, I know what the house looks like!"
With this, my mother and I thanked him and then headed out. En route, I saw my father and told him of what just happened. There was an immediate assumption between all of us that we were going to look for this house, like it or not. :) My mother and I went into the bathroom and immediately, my enthusiasm exploded. My mother suggested that I just continue and to "get it out of my system." I'm just happy that there was no one else in the bathroom. :) Well, we headed out and before we went to search for the house, did some sightseeing (while this was very entertaining, this being a DHP site, I'm going to just stick with the DHP related parts of the trip). So, after the sightseeing, we walked to the street that the visitor center guide told us about. Ecstatic, I practically skipped down the street, however, my bounce halted when I saw we had come to the end of the street and there was no white colonial in sight. :( Well there is only one thing we could have done.
"Hi, remember us?" OK, I felt a little silly going back to the visitor center, but hey, I was not going to come this close and quit now. Mike, as we had just, at that moment, found out his name, told us that he was almost positive that it was on that street. His only other suggestion was to try the next street over and its vicinity. We thanked him again and headed off. This time, though, we took the car. We drove to the new street, but no house. We drove up and down the blocks when suddenly I yelled, "Stop! There it is! We found it, we found........Oh wait, that's not it. Never mind, keep driving." We continued to drive down one street after another, not seeing anything. When my father was about to turn a corner I yelled, "Stop! This is REALLY it! REALLY!"
There it was. The childhood and teenage home of David Hyde Pierce. We parked on the side of the street, I jumped out and began to use my camera to its fullest potential. At one point, I stood beside the side of the house, just staring at it. "This is where David lived," I thought. "This is the side walk he walked on." As I moved to the front of the house, I thought, "This is the yard where the football hit David in the head when he played with his father as a child. Those stairs inside (I could see through the window) are the stairs he used to fall down everyday, pretending to dramatically die. As I slowly came down to earth, I went back into the car and thanked my parents again for doing this. "So, what's next? High School?" The rest of Saturday, we did more sightseeing, which drew me to the conclusion that I want to live here. What a gorgeous, friendly place!
Anyway, the next day, Sunday, our last day in Saratoga Springs, we started the day visiting a bottle museum. The visit was nice but the outcome was even better. The owner, a lovely women whose name escapes me (sorry), had a great conversation with us about the area and how much she loves it. She asked us why we decided to visit, and, well, we basically answered how we originally answered Mike. "Oh! Well, you have to see the Saratoga County Living magazine. There is an interview with DHP in it. I'll give you a copy of it when we go downstairs." First Mike, now this lovely bottle collector lady. Saratoga is really heaven on earth. :) As she gave a magazine to both me and my parents, my mother responded that this was like giving me gold. :) After we left, we headed to the next stop in my pilgrimage, the high school. As we were driving I read the blurb about the interview, "David speaks of his time in Caroline Street Elementary School." "Um Daddy, what are we doing after we see the high school?"
We arrive at the high school where I notice it's also the junior high school. I get out of the car and snap my pictures, this time accompanied by my father with the video camera. After this, we drive off and do more sightseeing. (Boy, I'm typing a lot. I hope you are still reading this). We had to use the bathroom and we were around the famous visitors center, so we decided to stop in. And yes, we saw Mike. "So, did you find the house?" We told him we did. "Oh, that's right... Well, I'll know for next time." He continued to tell us that many tourists have asked about where David lived, but he's not sure of the success rate in finding it. Well, we once again, thanked him again for everything and said good-bye.
It was a little after 7:00 PM and it was time to head back home, but not before we see one other thing. Oh, like you didn't know this was coming. We drove to Caroline Street (which is quite long) and towards the end stood another long building, Caroline Street Elementary School. The sign said it was established in 1957, so I wonder what school his brother and sisters went to? Anyway, I took my photos, imagining little David walking through the front door. Oh, how cute! :) After, I got back in the car and just like that we headed out of Saratoga Springs. :( (Tears building up in my eyes). Some time after 10:00 PM, we returned home and like a flash of lightning, ran to my computer and told the CN and both DHP lists about my trip. (If you read it, you know it was a lot more condensed). :)
I hope you enjoyed my story and enjoy my pictures. But before I go, I would like to thank Eunice for letting me share my pics and story with you on this lovely website. And I would also like to thank Mike, the bottle lady, and my parents for having such patience with me. And speaking of patience, for all of you that have reached the end of this story, congratulations! :)
If you have any comments about the content of this article, please direct them to Victoria at FrasierNut@aol.com
Back to Top
Back to the previous page!
Copyright © 1999-2003.