The Man, The Myth, The Legend


Greetings to all. I am, Everett Hunt, the creator of Pitus Peston and his adventures. I am 57 and live in Castile, NY with my wife Sally. I was born in Glens Falls, NY and attended Fort Ann (NY) Central School. I graduated in 1971 and entered Albany College of Pharmacy. In the bicentennial year I graduated from pharmacy school and have been a pharmacist for 34 years. My writing career began in 1990 when the 18th century space traveler Pitus Peston came to life. Since then three novel length adventure stories have been written with a fourth in progress.

Sally and I moved to Castile in 1982 and purchased an old farm house near Letchworth State Park.

There is an interesting story about the first occupants of the house. The 1866 Beers Atlas of Wyoming County shows our house as being owned by Darius Chase. He and his family moved to Castile from Cambridge, New York in 1845. While browsing some old leather books at a bookstore in Cambridge, I happened onto a Literary and Scientific Class Book, printed in 1833 and on the first blank leaf was written, "Darius D. Chase July 20th 1837. I paid more than I should have for it, but felt a strange sense of fulfillment bringing home a posession of the first dwellers that probably missed a place on their wagon. It made it here,though belatedly after 150 years.

Our four children are out on their own. Greg and Geoff are twins. Greg is a computer programmer, Geoff is an electrical engineer, Alicia the next in order is an accountant, and Jeremy, the youngest is still in college to become a psychologist. Now that the raising of children is over, I took up some of my old passions. As a young man I hiked all about so that I knew every rock and ledge and stream where I grew up. The hidden places of the sugarwoods; the old stone walls, the cellar holes where late 18th century houses stood, places where the deer slept, where good quartz crystals could be found... All of these were as familiar to me as the rooms in my house. It is one of the passions I poured into Pitus Peston allowing me to relive those magical times.

After a trip to the Grand Canyon in 2007 I decided to take up after 25 years, the fine art of hiking. As is evident in the photo of me and my friend Joseph Bell standing with our backs to the canyon, (I am the shorter one on the left), I needed some getting into shape. I started on January 1 of 2008, and by summer I was backpacking all over the place. I bagged Mount Marcy in September of 08 and the next Summer I treked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon with my son Jeremy. Remember he's the one who is studying psychology. If only he had finished his professional training before that trip I could have had my head examined by him for undertaking such a feat. Actually it went well and I would recommend hiking down the Canyon to anyone fit enough to manage it. The bottoms of canyons and the tops of mountains are some of the best places to go. I visited Mt. Washington this past June. Get reservations for the Lake of the Clouds Hut to overnight it and have a good rain suit handy. The Ammonoosuc Ravine Trail is a good way up and the Jewell Trail is a good way down. It's not an easy trek but a grand view from the top especially when you made it there by the power of muscle and will. Carry 4 or 5 liters of water with'll need it.

I started collecting books long before I began writing them. It began on a Sunday trip into New Hampshire in 1970 when my travelling companion spotted a bookshop and told me to stop. While he was browsing, I began to feel the effects of being in an antiquarian book shop. There was the smell of old paper and leather bindings. The feel of the books, some hundreds of years old, sent their spirits through my fingers and into my brain. Even the light coming in the windows on that sunny day snared me in its spell. I was going to buy something, dammit! I happened onto a stack of odd pamphlets. As I drew near I recognised what they were. There on top of the pile was the familiar yellow cover of the Old Farmer's Almanac, but this one was for the year 1878! My grandmother was born in 1880 and it was this point in time that I separated the ancient from the modern. This was older than her and definitely in the ancient and its cover was as crisp and bright as though printed last year. I asked the proprietor how much it was expecting it to be a fortune. I had ten bucks on me, some of which had to go into the gas tank. "Twenty-five cents for any in that stack" was his reply. I searched down the stack and found one for 1850. This had a yellow cover but with a more crude design. This was a hundred years older than my brother Bob. Below this was one for 1830. This was without a cover but was still bright and supple. It was the 38th issue and the title read The Old Farmer's Almanack ..."fifty-fourth year of American Independence". I was hooked. I picked up a few others. The book seller then said "I have a 1798. It has a defective last page, but for three dollars it's yours." He pulled open a small drawer and took out a dusty dark brown pamphlet. I took it and read the title page. "The Farmer's Almanack for the hear 1798...twenty-second of American Independence..." This was the sixth year of the longest running publication in America! There went the gas money. Since then I succeeded in collecting all the years from its start in 1793. The same book dealer later sold me a large collection of almanacs many of which were from colonial times, the oldest being a Cambridge Mass. imprint from 1691. Some of these I still have and some of them I sold to other collectors. The American Antiquarian Society in Worcester, Mass. has one of the most extensive institutional holdings of early American Almanacs on the planet.