Shalom Lamm doesn't come across as the sort who seeks publicity. He's got an affable smile, is straight forward and presents himself as an amiable, friendly, positive-thinking businessman. Yes, he's been all the talk in Mamakating — as well as the Pine Bush School District and much of the rest of our region — for years now, ever since he first bought the old Wurtsboro Airport and proposed building warehouses there as an economic anchor for the area; Then proposed putting up a major golf-oriented development outside Bloomingburg which eventually morphed, because of state wetlands laws, into a 400 home bedroom community plan; Then brought up ideas for other properties he had purchased around the area.

He mentions how he built the new library in Wurtsboro, and is planning to build a new wastewater plant for Bloomingsburg, where he lives weekdays while trying to maintain a family life on Long Island, where his wife is from. But then moves on quickly to speak about how proud he is of his well-educated kids, as well as his father's reputation as former president of Yeshiva University in New York City, where Lamm himself went as an undergrad.

"I come from a family of academics," he says. "And I'm pretty much an open book myself."

But then he states, matter-of-factly, that he's come to the Shawangunk Journal offices to raise a problem he has with a recent story that covered his appearance earlier this month before the Town of Mamakating Planning Board, where two Lamm projects were discussed. One had to do with the airport, the other with changes he was proposing to his Seven Peaks property.

Lamm had marked up a copy of the article, with questions and notes written in the margins. Why, he wanted to know, were a number of issues and facts he brought up at the meeting not included, and so much space given to those who have characterized themselves as opponents of his developments? He had dramatically shrunk the size of his Seven Peaks development in answer to community and planners concerns, and in better keeping with what he termed the "magnificence" of the property. He'd chosen to shrink the footprint of the project the better to preserve land. And he'd agreed to pay for a trail extension through his property. All was at his expense, Lamm said, and yet none of what he had offered was part of the story. Only some lecturing about trails... and no quotes from him, who was the one actually talking at the meeting.

As Lamm put it, the problem was insinuation. And an attitude that no matter what he did, he was presumed wrong.

So we decided to set the record straight, in a pair of stories, about what brought him to the area to become its largest developer, and investor, in decades... maybe longer. We wanted to let Shalom Lamm explain his vision, his background, his experiences, and what he was observing about the towns, and region, he had decided to stake himself to... at least for the coming years.

The man began by noting how his family used to come to the Homowack Lodge when he was a kid. And no, he added, he had no interest whatsoever in buying what was left of the place now, out of auction.

"After college I got working in real estate, started a brokerage, and then in 1989 got together with two or three other partners and started buying properties," Lamm says of his history.

His first business involved the then-strong rental market, and a business model that saw his company buying up undervalued properties in middle class areas that would then be spiffed up.

"It was great, a magnificent time," he says. "I loved that business."

But then Congress started passing laws to make home ownership easier, via Freddie Mac and other quasi-governmental loan entities, wrecking his market and eventually the entire housing industry, in his view.

Lamm notes how, in addition to his masters' degree studies of the military history of the Civil War, he's long been a big fan of the early economic writer Adam Smith, and a believer in the power of laissez fair business models.

"Markets find their equilibrium," he says. "I guess you could say I'm basically a libertarian. I want government to keep their hands off."

Lamm's second business was in construction... and consolidation. This time he and his new partners went looking for opportunities in urban areas where there was strong employment growth. In places such as Tampa and Jacksonville, FL, Memphis, TN and Charlotte, NC, they would buy up local construction companies and start to build profits from the efficiencies one gets by "having a big player in medium-sized markets."

He goes off on a sidetrack, speaking about how strong localized and regional banking was for a long time. But how the new push back into regulation, and Dodd-Frank ideas of "too big to fail" are "a terrible thing."

Eventually, at the end of the 1990s, Shalom Lamm sold that business, too.

"Then I decided to come home," he says, noting how tired he'd become, over the years, flying up and down the east coast for his work. "What I did — and this was kind of fun — was to get a piece of string and a compass and then map out 80 miles from Central Park."

Westchester and Manhattan, he figured, were too complicated to play around with (even though he'd done developments in both places). Eventually he came to Orange and Sullivan counties and a lightbulb turned on in his head. That was where the Homowack was; and he'd taken his first flight as a pilot out of Wurtsboro Airport when he was fourteen.

He started to look at local demographics, economic histories, and then saw that multi-millionaire Alan Gerry was putting his money into the development of the Bethel Woods arts center and museum.

"I figured if he's putting his money here why shouldn't I do the same," Lamm says. "And so I started acquiring."

By 2005, he adds, he was ready to start developing... and decided to begin with the airport, renowned as being the nation's first glider base, in operation since the 1920s.

"I had this idea for doing something fundamentally good, by saving this piece of history, in addition to building the jobs and tax bases for the area. It was a win win win situation if ever I saw one," he recalls. "I thought, 'Here's a confluence of Adam Smith and public policy.' The big intellectual conundrum was based on that old idea that going to war is easy, but getting out of war is hard. How do you support an airport once you own one?"

Lamm's plan? To protect the airport legally so it could never be developed, then build up a business based on the ideal of the condominium. You get warehouse distribution centers to move in at low prices, such as Kohl's had done nearby, with the payoff being shared fees to cover the cost of the airport, a benefit to all who bought in.

"Yes we were going to take a financial hit on it at first," the developer continues. "But we think it's the right thing to do."

Of course, he adds, there had also been an earlier idea to create a fly-in housing development. But that one didn't pass muster with either the town or the Federal Aviation Agency.

Talk about ill winds blowing... and Lamm's resolve, and fluidity, slowly gelling.

Next week: Shalom Lamm on his newer developments, future plans, and views on the controversies he's centered in recent years.