CORNELIUS FREDRICK ALLEN

Real life role models are hard to come by, but the Allen family can lay claim to a strong lineage, as evidenced by first generation American patriarch Cornelius "Con"Allen.

Born of Irish immigrants in New York City "under the Brookly Bridge" area in 1867 shortly after the end of the U.S. Civil War, Cornelius showed his mettle early. Entering the coal mines as a trapper boy at age 11 he emerged 16 years later as a "mule driver," qualified as a mine foreman. He showed courage in taking a stand against unfair practices at the mine company store and was given political clout by his fellow miners.

His determination led him to well established successes in an impressive array of undertakings. In politics Cornelius was an agressive, respected Sheriff of Clearfield County PA for a three year team, followed by an extended tenure as the "the best Postmaster DuBois ever had." (Newspaper quote from DuBois Courier) Con seemed to be running the show by himself, holding many other positions from Treasurer and Fire Department president of Houtzdale PA. to DuBois Planning Commissioner and Control Board member.

In business, after leaving the mines, Cornelius retraced the footsteps of his father, Thomas, who was a shoe cobbler by trade. He opened a shoe store in Houtzdale in 1894. While serving as Sheriff he established the Con Allen Shoe Store in DuBois in 1907 which he actively ran for the next quarter century with the help of his brothers and children before he retired and his sons took over full time operation.

Con made sure that all of his children were musicians. Performances were required after the Sunday dinner and as each came of age they took their place in the Allen family shows. The Allen family entertained not only each other but conducted numerous concerts for DuBois events and hosted the Annual Review Spectacular. Many of Con & Laura's children and grandchildren were inspired to reach professional levels as musicians.

In addition Con organized & directed the Holy Name Band which played many benefits and socials as wll as marching in the inaugural parade for President Wilson. He took active roles in community organizations in Houtzdale and DuBois.

Cornelius' wonderful march through life was ably partnered by his willing, energetic wife, Laura "Lolly" Baumgardner. Together they created and nurtured the modern Allen Family genealogy until his death in 1940. The passing of Con was front page news on the DuBois and area newspapers. He is in included in the book Men Who Are Making Clearfield County 1922-23 , by A. Howard Hasbrook.

1998 biography by grandson John "Jack" Bernard Allen Jr., b. 1938, DuBois, PA. Jack lives in La Jolla, CA.

More stories, written in 1994 for the Allen Family Reunion, about Cornelius F. Allen are by second oldest grandaughter, Jeanne McDermott Waldock. She is one of four daughters of Mary Ellen "Marie" Allen McDermott, Con & Laura's oldest child. Jeanne lives in Olean, NY.

"The tales of Grampa recollection (if I recall him telling them correctly, or my experiencing them) started with his renting a large house, downtown in Miami, facing a green (near a courthouse and a pier, where he took all of us granchildren fishing.) He usually drive to Miami in a large touring car with drop-seats in the back. It was the winter of 1929, I was 5, and Aunts Elmira & Jean, my Mother, Uncle Ralph and others at different times would come to Grampas' and stay.

"Once he told me a story that in driving down along a beach road, where there were no houses, and desert sand dunes to the right, the front wooden wheel of his car caught fire. There was no one in sight to help. Grandpa directed everyone to pray, and some of the gang to run to the beach to fill whatever hats or anything they had. Suddenly two men appeared, and threw handfuls of sand on the wheel. He turned to direct the family to hold the water, and when he turned back to the wheel, the fire was out and the men had disappeared. He said as far as he could see on the road (Route #1?) - no car - no men. He said the whole family in the car thought that the men were angels.

"He and Gramma would come up to Olean for a few week long visits about the time of the Baseball series. Gramma would help with the canning of tomatoes, currents, rasberries, potatoes that we raised on all the property we owned behind our house. Grampa would stay glued to the old radio listening to the baseball games, FDR's fireside chats, and Father Coughlin's radio warnings about Roosevelt. Dramatic times and conversing.

"Grandpa's mother and father were born in Ireland and lived 'in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge' in an area of New York filled with the jolly Irish. Jim Farley, F.D.Roosevelt's right hand and legs, write an interesting autobiography about the neighborhood, the fun and sadness of those times. Grampa's father hand-made boots, was a shoe cobbler, by trade I believe, and his mother died about the time of the 1873 financial panic brought on by the Vanderbilt/Gould Erie (Railroad) Wars for the control of (for a time) the world's first LONG railroad, the Erie RR thru Olean, Meadville, PA.

"That '73 panic caused many to lose their jobs and homes as told by Charles Francis Adams in "Chapters of the Erie," and by Grampa. It was about this time that Cornelius' father Thomas went to work in the Houtzdale Company controlled Coal Mines. The wages were steady and better than NY's. Coal was about the only practical form of energy to run railroads (the only mode of long distance travel) and was vitally necessary to make steel. Oil, found in 1859, was then used for lamp lighting. The Henry Clay Frick Biography tell of his coal-mine issue of script with the depression of ' 73-5, and his discovery of the Company Store, the only place where miners could spend the script. (My husband's first job was as a doctor in a WVA company coal mine. He told some horror stories that happened to meiners during the depression of the 30's, when Company owned coal mines still issued script.)

"Grampa's faher's home in Houtzdale was next to a German Catholic Convent and Church, where Grampa as a young boy with his brother worked as handyboy for the nuns & priests. He received no wages. The good sisters agreed to educate him in repayment teaching him reading, writing, how to speak correct English, math , German, Latin, Lives of the Saints, music and tap dancing. An unusual education, but from methodical, exacting employers, ones he continued with, even after he went to work in the mines (about 17-18 years old?)

"In his early 20's, along with other coal miners, he resented (or, perhaps, was encouraged by the sisters an priests to resent) having to pay a dollar of his wage to the Company Store to cash his mine check. As a pleasant personalitied leader, he assembled some miners, told them he would cash their checks for nothing from the Sheriff's budget, if they would elect him Sheriff.

"However, it wasn't that easy. We all know the song about the coal Mine Companies owning all the houses, as well as the grocery and dry-goods stores in a town. Transportation out of town to buy anything would man owning a house and carriage, or taking a train. So, all groceries and goods not home made or home grown were bought at the Company Store. (Gramma Allen told me that one dollar bought more groceries than a person could carry home in his arms.) When the Company heard that Grampa would cash checks freely if he were elected Sheriff, the mine closed him from any store purchases.

"Cornelius raged into the Grocer's, telling him that this was America and the clerk must sell to him or be fined in court. When the Grocer remained adament, Grampa jumped the counter, grabbed the Butchrs lever,and told the man to serve him or else. Grampa would not have his wife and children go hungry because he was running for a Democratic office. The Grocer was cowed; he served Grampa. Resulting gossip of this daring act challenging the mine owners in Houtzdale and the county spread quickly. Naturally, Grampa was elected.

"One of my mother Marie's, favorite stories of the old days was that Grampa bought a pony and wicker cart for her to take the children for a ride. This was after Grampa was elected and living in the Sheriff's residence (in or next to the jail.) To avoid a sputtering rare automobile on the dirt road, she cut the horse in too close a turn. The cart turned over and horse ran off leaving Marie and kiddos to walk home. Gramma's sister, Aunt Ann Baumgardner, when being courted by a fellow we called A-I, used to take mother for rides in the country around Houtzdale. Since there were no available bathrooms, the girls use to ask A-I if he would stop the house. They had to go 'count the trees.'

"When Grampa visited in Olean, every morning first on his agenda, he'd walk or take a taxi to St. Mary's Church for Mass and Communion, a habit I've gratefully copied. This round-eyed child felt it a great honor to be allowed to accompany him. There were goodies too. After Mass we'd walk to the Olean Hose where for a dollar we had a sumptuous breakfast - complete with fresh, white tabecloths , and white jackted waiters. I can still see him, with his boyish grin, tucking his large, starched napkin under his chin, or scrubbing the yellow egg off his white mustache. Everyone felt and knew of his personality along the walk. Mrs. Osterhoudt handed him fresh cookies with a jam-dot in the middle as he passed her house. When it rained, Taxi Joe (who supposedly ran booze during the depression ) would drive him home for free. Grampa was the kind of a man that people responded to.

"Gramma said that Grampa had quite a reputation before he was married. He drank a lot, fought a lot but was an otherwise principled leader. Gramma wouldn't marry him until he promised he'd give up drinking and fighting. He overdid it. No one was allowed to drink in the house. In fact, he kept his word to the extent that when his temper flared and he and Gramma had a disagreement, he'd take his hat and walk around the block. When he had cooled off, he'd throw his hat in the door, and if it didn't come sailing back out, he knew the disagreement could be discussed.

"As far as fist-fighting went, he told me he took a more passive attitude taking the train to New York to see some of the famous flatboat fights up the Hudson River. As he told it; there was no ring, no bells to end a round, no gloves, etc. It was just bare, bloody fists. John L. Sullivan was one of the famous fighters he saw. 'Ah,' he'd say, 'Now there was a MAN.' Some of the fights went on for days until one or the other was out cold. I think, like cock fights, they were illegal, but New York police knew money-makers.

"He also told me about one time when a dangerous prisoner escaped, not from Houtzdale, but from someplace like Philadelphia. Grampa was told that the man was dangerous, a murderer and in his territory, so he asked his miner friends to keep a watch for this dangerous stranger in in town.

"One night the miners reported to Grampa that the prisoner was buying drinks in a Houtzdale cellar-saloon. Although it was the time of Wyatt Earp and Wild Bill Hckock, Grampa never gloried in being a law man. He never carried a gun. That night he went down to the bar in the cellar, wondering if the escapee had friends there who would put up a fight. Grampa said he just prayed & kept his knee from knocking & went down for him. There was no trouble. Grampa just touched him on the shoulder and said,'Come along, mister' and single-handedly, handcuffed the man and took him back by train to jail.

"Grampa's backing in his election-bids was from the Church, I believe, and the common people. (Not at all like today, when churches are threatened with taxation if they talk politics.) Because he believed in himself as a good man, others did, too.

"There's another tale about his working hard and trying to instill in his family this work ethic the nuns taught him. My mother Marie used to laugh and tell us girls that her Dad believed in making children work so that even if they were sweeping, it should be the best job anyone could do. Grampa made his sons sweep the alley next to his house in DuBois. The alley housed many horse stables and sweeping up the -ah- alley was no picnic.

"All the Allen children had to practice a musical instrument, and learn to dance. He even sponsored a Houtzdale Orchestra (of which I have the large sheepskin Drumhead, and very dirty after all these years. It is from the attic cupboard under the rafters in the old State Stree 30-room house. The new owner of Grampa's house found it when he was renovating the house into four apartments. Gramma said, 'Playing instruments saved the boys lives, because during the time of the War they were all recruited into bands and therefore did not see military action. Keep your kids busy,' she also admonished my mother Marie.

"Grampa said that some bankers resented Grama' being named Postmaster. In fact, one banker's wife refused to sit next to him on a train, telling him that he was disgusting because he had 13 children. His neat retort was, ' Madam, all my children live under MY roof.' The bankers determined they would get rid of him because they said he ran a shoe store and a post office, and didn't put in a full day either place.

"Grampa was summoned to a court hearing to be held in Washington D.C. Of course, he went to Mass at the Cathedral in Washington before the court appearance. Coming down the steps afterward, he stopped to talk to a little old white-haired man. They had such a jolly conversation together, they ended up having breakfast together. Miracles always seemed to happen to Grampa, and this was no exception. When Grampa walked in to the Court room, there was the little old man sitting where the judge sits at the hearing. He was so surprised! Grampa had always kept a daily dirary of his hours he worked and what he acccomplished, and that was his defense. The Judge insisted on hearing Grampa, though Grampa had no lawyer. Granpa's defense: that when he had to work at the shoe store on a busy weekend with his sons, for instance, he would start at the Post Office at 4:00 a.m. in order to put in his 8-hour day before dashing off to the shoe store by 1:00 p.m. to put in another 8 hours.

"There are many vignettes, like these, I could tell because he certainly influenced my life. In 1931, I believe it was, I was a 7-year-old sitting in Grampa's and Gramma's dining room in DuBois, wih many of the family. A group of VIP men who knew Grampa came in laughing and chatting. Everyone but me got up and left the table for the 10 or 12 politicians to sit down. Grampa kindly said to me that they would be discussing politics, and I wouldn't be interested, so would I shut the sliding door between the dining and front rooms as I left?

"I promised to be quiet, so, could I please stay and listen? One man with a bald head, whom I remember was called Jim Farley, took me on his lap and said I might become the first woman president, but it would please everyone if I left. Walking on clouds at being held and spoken to by such a VIP, I closed the sliding door, but had the experience impressed on my mind by getting the "devil" from my mother and Aunts Elmyra & Laura.

"I believe Jim Farley was meeting with the Ward Healers from PA and every state - to push the candidacy of FDR on Farley's way as Elks President to the Elks Convention in Washington State. I've had research done in the DuBois newspapers, where no mention was found of such a visit, and can only conclude it was a secret meeting that FDR and Jim Farley did not want to be publicized.

"I'll end here with another story of Grampa's sheriff days. A sweet little seamstress who barely reached her coal miner husband's shoulders came to Grampa's jail office. She said her husband was the nicest of men- when he was not drunk on every mine pay day. He would beat her black and blue for no reason after he had something to drink. She wanted Grampa to put him in jail every payday. Grampa explained it was against the law to arrest anyone and put them in jail without an evident reason, not a supposed reason. He praised her as an excellent seamstress (perhaps, meaning that she could earn her own living, and leave the coal miner until he changed his ways?) However, the little woman took a different course of action. The next payday, as usual, her husband came home in his drunken rage and beat her black and blue. Then as usual, he fell into bed in a stupor, snoring loudly. She lost no time. Having many needles already threaded, and taking very tiny stitches, she started sewing the top and bottom sheets together. With very tiny stitches, he couldn't tear the sheets apart. Then, taking a rubber hose to him, she bludgeoned him until he was in the same state that he had hurt her. They lived happily ever after and he never hit her again. The seamstress gave her thanks to Cornelius for the idea! and Con loved telling the story.