From Trinity Pawling “A Pride of Fighting Gentlemen”

Men are, after all, what Dr. Gamage set out to create that spring in 1907 when he took a train up the Harlem Valley into Dutchess County. That train is the same one that brought decades of students to Dr. Gamage’s school before it closed in 1942, a victim of troubled finances and the war in Europe. The train’s mournful whistle is what many boys, now men, remember wailing through the night and riding a chilly evening breeze into their slightly open windows at Cluett.

Dr. Gamage and the steam whistles and the war and even many of the boys who became men are gone now, but Trinity-Pawling remains high on a crest at the foot of Quaker Hill, on John Dutcher’s old farm, looking west to the mountains. Boys still come every fall, clamoring, shouting, strutting in the age-old ways of boys, to be met by a new generation of leaders and teachers, many of whom once trod Cluett’s halls themselves in their youth.

Shut down once in the forties and almost again in the seventies, a victim of two devastating fires, and nearly bankrupted at various points in its history, Trinity-Pawling houses its present students in new or refurbished facilities and nurtures them with more courses and programs than Dr. Gamage ever thought possible. A generation from now, the boys sliding on dining trays down the snowy slope in front of Cluett on wintry 21st century mornings will be men, thanks in part to their days at the school. They will tell their children about their adventures in Pawling, and those boys will tell their children.

Trinity-Pawling has been here for a century, but for the first time in those 100 years the near future is as secure as it can be in an imperfect and unpredictable world, and the far future grows brighter every day.