In Memoriam: Vincent Mulford

Gossips received the sad news this morning that Vincent Mulford has died.

It is impossible to describe adequately the effect of his presence among us and his contribution to Hudson. The tangible evidence is the building at 419 Warren Street, which he purchased in 1999 and transformed it from a rabbit warren of offices and tiny apartments into the elegant commercial space it was originally meant to be. In the process, he discovered and restored the second floor space that became known as the Tin Ball Room, the stunningly beautiful setting for many of Hudson's most memorable events.

One of the most fondly remembered traditions of Winter Walk is Vince's tradition of serving eggnog at the front of his shop between his exquisitely decorated shop windows. It was Vince who, in the early days of Winter Walk, brought Sax O Claus, now a Winter Walk regular, to play his saxophone in the street in front of Vincent Mulford Antiques.

Another gift to the city were the flags he flew from the top of his building. Early on, he found a wood stump on the roof of the building, which turned out to be the base of a flagstaff. The stump reminded him of a ship's mast, and he speculated that the early flagstaffs of Hudson may have been crafted by the city's shipbuilders. The flagstaff he used was a mahogany ship's mast he found in Maine. From that he flew an ever-changing variety of flags, many of which were ship's flags.

Vince was passionate about the city clock, located in the tower of the First Presbyterian Church, just down the street from his building. He was first to raise the alarm whenever the clock stopped--because someone forgot to wind it or something more serious had gone amiss. Several times over the years, Vince volunteered to take the job of winding the clock, but that never happened. What may have been Vince's last comment on Gossips, posted on October 12, was about the clock and his history of trying to keep the clock going.

If any one person embodied the spirit that was Hudson in the early days of its miraculous renaissance, it was Vince Mulford. Daniel Seward expressed it best on Facebook this morning.

When I moved to Hudson I thought everyone was an erudite queer intelligent partying child of the sun and moon back alley lord island hopped gregarious razor witted soaking wet survivor flower lover song full beauty full poet of fresh flesh and ancient earth songs brilliant endless warrior of a million days . . . but I was wrong . . . there was only one. Vincent Mulford.

Our loss is profound.