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He’s True to His School
After thinking about writing an autobiography with Jim Boeheim once the coach won his national championship in 2003, and then instead opting for a biography that was released in early November, Scott Pitoniak’s timing sure was fortuitous. The Bernie Fine sexual abuse case landed Syracuse University another Associated Press No. 1 spot, and this one isn’t for the quality of the basketball team but the mess that emerged over the past month. That ongoing scandal, part of the top AP news story of 2011, no doubt helped Pitoniak sell even more copies of his book Color Him Orange: The Jim Boeheim Story (Triumph Books, Chicago; 272 pages; $24.95/hardcover).
“The timing of the scandal, it was shocking news to me and not something that I wanted certainly,” said Pitoniak from his Rochester home. “But the subject becomes more compelling and there’s a certain element of people that want to know the background of this person. And particularly, Jim’s reaction when the scandal broke: It was over the top.”
Yet what Pitoniak discovered about the SU men’s head basketball coach gave Boeheim’s immediate comments about Fine’s accusers—that they were only after money—some perspective: Boeheim is fiercely loyal.
“Loyalty is an overriding theme in Jim’s life,” said Pitoniak. “Sometimes he can be loyal to a fault, as we saw with the comments after the allegations first broke about Bernie Fine. I also think that Jim’s relationship with his father is central to who Jim is, for better or for worse, but that’s something I really tried to develop in the book.”
“His father was a fiercely competitive man and somewhat socially awkward,” Pitoniak continued. “And I think he molded Jim into becoming this incredibly driven person, and there’s good and bad with this, with the way he has behaved at times.” Boeheim’s spats with the media are legendary, and Pitoniak admitted to being the focus of the coach’s ire every so often.
“As someone who has from time to time incurred his wrath over the years, I didn’t know how he would react to me wanting to write this book. But I also knew a Jim who could bite your head off one day and then a couple days later help you out if you were writing a column, give you a quote or two. That was his way of saying sorry without saying, ‘I’m sorry.’”
Boeheim’s spark served him well as a walk-on in 1962 who eventually took over the program as head coach in 1976. The rest is the stuff of Syracuse, New York, legend. “He’s a small-town guy who had opportunities to go to bigger schools—Ohio State, for example—or the NBA, but I don’t think he ever seriously considered them. I think he was flattered and intrigued but I think this is always where he wanted to be, and I think that’s admirable considering the state of college athletics today when coaches jump from school to school.”
The coach’s desire to stay put has certainly reaped its rewards, including three NCAA Final Four appearances, the long-awaited win in 2003 and his current fifth-place national standing, among men’s coaches, for wins. “This season Jim has the opportunity to move into fourth place all-time on the list of winningest men’s college basketball coaches,” Pitoniak explained. “But more significantly to him, is to have the most wins by a coach at a single school. Given his loyalty to the school, being able to say that about his record, which demonstrates his unquestioned loyalty to Syracuse University—that’s pretty meaningful.”
As for the final chapter now made necessary—once the Bernie Fine mess gets resolved—Pitoniak knows he may need to work on a second edition of Color Him Orange. “This was meant to be a definitive biography,” he said, “and then this news breaks. There’s a chapter, obviously, that needs to be written, but it depends how it plays out. If this were to play out even more horribly, particularly for Jim, I don’t know how much interest there will be; there might be some reluctance from a publisher. I would like to write that chapter for sure, but whether the publisher will want it—remember they are in the business of selling books.”
To that end, Pitoniak is scheduling book signings at various upstate locations and SU alumni club gatherings throughout the Northeast. The only one firmed up for now is Saturday, Jan. 21, 11 a.m., at the Lyons Public Library, 122 Broad St. For more information, call 946-9262.
—Molly English-Bowers
Boos from B’Ville
Years ago, a man wrongfully convicted of murder was confined to an abandoned shack at the end of Whiskey Hollow Road in Van Buren. He died there mysteriously while awaiting his sentencing. Overcome with grief, his young wife hanged herself from a tree in the woods nearby. On quiet days in the woods, hikers can still see the wife’s bloodied blanket floating through the woods and hear her cries of remorse echoing deep in the Hollow’s caves. Or so legend says.
The allegedly haunted woods around Whiskey Hollow Road on the western outskirts of Baldwinsville have been a source of such campfire horror stories for decades. Named for moonshiners who used the road to smuggle booze during Prohibition, the road and surrounding woods have become a destination for hikers, legend-seekers and (most often) underage partiers with nowhere else to go.
Haunted or not, however, the area possesses an undeniable creepiness. The narrow, mile-long road twists and turns through a dark, dense ravine. No houses line the road. Hidden deep in the trees are abandoned fire pits, discarded beer cans, bat caves and the decaying shell of an old automobile.
It’s this creepiness that local filmmaker Matt Lipke sought to capitalize on with his horror film Whiskey Hollow, which debuts at Eastwood’s Palace Theater on Saturday, Jan. 7, at 8 p.m. “I grew up hiking in the woods there and I’ve heard all the legends,” said 19-year-old Lipke. “It’s the perfect place for a horror film because you can play off what’s already there.”
Lipke, a 2011 graduate of C.W. Baker High School in Baldwinsville, wrote, directed, produced and edited the 90-minute film last summer. His cast and crew consisted of friends and fellow 2011 graduates of Baker High. “It started off as something to do for fun before we all left for college,” Lipke said. “But we all worked so hard I wanted to do something big with the premiere.”
While home for Thanksgiving, Lipke contacted Michael Heagerty, owner of the Palace Theatre, who has a history of screening local films and was excited to work with the young filmmaker. “Everyone wants to see their work shown on a big screen, and I like to give local filmmakers the opportunity to do just that,” Heagerty said. “Plus, these things are usually very well-attended. I bet we’ll have half of Baker High School here for it.”
Lipke hopes for such an attendance, but not for his own sake. All the proceeds from the film will benefit the American Cancer Society. The cast and crew have a team that participates in Baldwinsville’s annual Relay For Life, which raises funds for the ACS. Lipke’s team is known for its creative themes and team names. Last year they dressed as cowboys, brought bales of hay to the event and named their team “This Town Ain’t Big Enough For Cancer.”
“These kids have such great enthusiasm; they really emulate the spirit of the Relay,” said Jeff Carella, chair of the Baldwinsville Relay For Life. “They’re certainly one of our standout teams.”
The team consists primarily of 2011 graduates of Baker High, most of whom were involved with them film, including Lipke’s right-hand man Aaron Stollicker and Matt Keim, the class valedictorian. Last year they raised $950 and, with the help of the film, they hope to break $1,000 in 2012.
Lipke and classmate Stolicker wrote the script for Whiskey Hollow last spring, finishing just prior to graduation. They spread the word about the film to friends and classmates at Baker High’s theater department. By July, they had compiled a cast and crew of 14, including Lipke, 10 actors, an executive producer and two “camel boys”—younger brothers of cast members who lugged the group’s gear through the woods.
“We started shooting July 14 and were out there almost every day by 8:30 a.m.,” Lipke said. “Most of us worked jobs in the afternoons or at night so we had to adhere to a strict schedule.”
The film uses “found footage,” meaning the actors use handheld camcorders to film the action themselves, in the vein of Paranormal Activity. Although Lipke cited Psycho as his primary inspiration, the similarities to The Blair Witch Project are undeniable. Cameras follow a group of teens through the woods as they seek to uncover truth behind the legends of Whiskey Hollow.
“Unfortunately we didn’t find much truth to the legends while filming,” Lipke admitted. “But we did get lost a few times in the woods. That was creepy enough.”
Shooting wrapped up at the end of August, just in time for most of the crew to leave for college. Lipke chose to premiere the film Jan. 7 so his friends would still be home for Christmas break and could attend the screening.
“It’s great to see young people pursuing their passions like this,” said Heagerty. “And it’s for a good cause. The whole event should be a lot of fun.”
Tickets to the premiere of Whiskey Hollow at the Palace Theatre, 2384 James St., cost $10. Doors open at 6:30 p.m.; showtime is at 8 p.m.. For more information, visit whiskeyhollowfilm.com.
—Chris Baker
Altared State
An eight-piece worship band kicks off the noon church service, crowded into a small stage area— at Swaby’s Tavern in Auburn—that usually showcases open mike nights. Green and purple stage lights reflect off the relics hanging from the tin ceiling: theater props, film set pieces and antiques from more than 100 years of Auburn history. While they aren’t religious relics, they present an interesting juxtaposition for Bar Church.
“Salvation is here,” sings the worship team. A middle-aged woman in the corner, double-fisting her beer, sings along. First-time visitor Dylan Dearman, 21, attends church in a home nearby, but was invited today by a friend. “I’ve been into churches that were deader than a graveyard, there’s no life,” he said. “It’s not the building outside, it’s the spirit inside.”
The concept for Bar Church started when the Rev. Joshua Czyz of Lakes Church, 138 E. Genesee St., Auburn, attended a 2010 holiday benefit for The Forsaken Generation Project, a volunteer organization founded by 37-year-old Sean Wrench to help homeless children and domestic child sex trafficking victims in the United States.
Soon after, Czyz approached Wrench to start a campus outreach. Wrench knew of other bar churches in New York City, Georgia and California, so he pitched the idea and Czyz was all for it. During a walk in downtown Auburn, Wrench had a strong feeling he should talk to Swaby’s Tavern owner Anthony Pacini, who took ownership of Swaby’s, 4 South St., Auburn, six years ago, and hadn’t been open on a Sunday afternoon—until now.
“I said, ‘Listen, man, this is probably going to be the craziest thing anyone has ever asked you,’ and he just said, ‘Sure,’” Wrench recalled. “There’s a lot of people that don’t like going to regular churches so we open up special for {Bar Church},” Wrench said. “That’s what a tavern is for, you know. It’s a gathering place.”
During the service, a man munches a burger and fries at the bar while Wrench, in an argyle sweater and faded jeans, preaches about handing your burdens to God. “God is the God of the first, second and 1,080th chance,” he says.
As Wrench began to make plans for Bar Church, one of the first things on his list was a worship team. “My whole family is in music, so the worship part is really important to me,” he said. “It’s part of what attracts people.”
Jolene Cowart, 28, moved to Syracuse over the summer and the singer-songwriter wanted a musical outlet in addition to her waitressing job. When she stumbled across a Craigslist ad for the worship team at Bar Church, she was immediately drawn to the concept. “It’s where Jesus would be if He was here today,” said Cowart. “It’s a unique way to reach out to the people who don’t go to church or have been hurt by the church.”
Part of Bar Church’s mission is drawn from a September 2011 study, “Six Reasons Young Christians Leave the Church,” released by the Barna Group, a California research organization that analyzes faith and culture. Common words emerged from the poll: overprotective, boring, exclusive, unfriendly and judgmental.
“The church became known more for what it was against than what it was for,” said Wrench. “When I saw that, my thought was, ‘I want to be part of a church that breaks all those stereotypes.”
Cowart understands why people abandon religion. Ten years ago, she left her Southern Baptist church in Franklin, Tenn., and hasn’t attended church since. “The judgmental attitudes, rumors and corruption turned me away,” she said.
The service at Swaby’s contains a smattering of young people. “This is awesome,” a 20-something whispered to his friend. “I know, right? So laid back,” the friend replied.
In an effort to break religious stereotypes, Bar Church’s launch party on Oct. 9 included giveaways of a free tattoo and makeover from a local salon. The bar offers half-price food during each service, and attendees often stick around afterward to watch a National Football League game.
There’s been some opposition from other churches that question a mixture of alcohol and evangelism, but Wrench doesn’t pay much attention. “A lot of people going to a bar are trying to numb pain,” he said. “We do church in a bar because rather than running from our society, we choose to embed ourselves in it.” And it’s not just young people who are taking notice. “I haven’t been to church in years, except my church here at Swaby’s,” said Pacini.
As time goes by, Wrench believes Bar Church will grow. “People are going to see this is not a one shot deal,” he said. “We’re committed and we’re not going anywhere.”
Sunday services take place at noon. For more information, send an email to: visit churchatswabys.com.
—Leah Stacy
