BIO: D. Thomas Kantner, Tillard Pen Pictures, 1911, Blair County, PA

Contributed April 2003 for use in the USGenWeb Archives 
by Judy Banja <jbanja@comcast.net>

Copyright 2003.  All rights reserved.
http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm
http://www.usgwarchives.net/pa/blair/
_________________________________________ 

                Pen Pictures of Friends and Reminiscent Sketches
                                by J. N. Tillard

             Altoona, PA: William F. Gable & Co., Mirror Press, 1911 

                          Genial "FATHER TOM" KANTNER

                 His Philosophies of Life Keep Him Cheerful and
               Throw a Mantle of Charity Over Sins of His Fellows

ONE summer day in the early "sixties" the boys from Hamilton's School were 
swimming at "Miller's Bridge." A very small boy was swinging his bare legs while 
seated on the floor of the bridge; and deploring the fact that he was not 
regarded big enough by the powers that were to take his chances of going in 
overhead in that particular hole.
  A man stopped on the bridge to watch the procession of nude bathers, who ran 
one after the other out the old log to plunge into the stream. The merry antics 
and droll speeches of one of the larger boys attracted his attention, and he 
inquired of the urchin at his feet, who that boy was.
  "O, that's Father Kantner," was the reply.
  The little boy did not know why he was called "father," and he does not know 
yet. There was simply something in his manner, kindliness of speech or action 
that had caused the unerring wisdom and character-reading power of a youthful 
playmate to so dub him, and it stuck because his cotemporaries thought it 
appropriate. "Children and fools speak the truth" because they have not yet 
learned to use language to disguise thought, and, having no axes to grind, they 
are usually sincere.
  "Father" Kantner had been christened Thomas, but nobody, excepting his mother, 
has ever called him that. Though he is gray haired and by no means lacking in 
dignity on occasions, he has always been "Tom" to those who knew him in later 
years. The "senate" sitting in continuous session for the past fifteen years, 
its membership altered only by death, in his cigar store on lower Eleventh 
Avenue, has noticed no change in its presiding officer.
  Always the same rollicking, humorous, epigrammatical expounder of current 
questions he will take an original view and have an opinion of his own about any 
matter under the sun; and he will present his views in a most forceful and 
entertaining way. He is not bounded by traditions or hampered by 
conventionalities. While freely conceding to everyone else the right of opinion 
and perfectly willing and even eager to avail himself of every source of 
information, he always reserves the right to soak them all in his own "think 
tank" and arrive at his own conclusions in his own way. His happy nature is 
entirely free from any trace of any supercilious or domineering tendencies, but 
he wears no man's collar, mental or otherwise.
  "Tom" never hunted trouble or went out of his way to stir up antagonisms, but, 
if there was bound to be a fight, he faced that situation just as 
philosophically as he did any other and made the best of it. So when the 
exigencies of the situation began to rob the cradle and the grave in order to 
perpetuate the life of the nation, with his usual cheerfulness he went to war. 
Though he was a trifle young to be roughing it in camps and facing the horrors 
of the battlefield, it is not recorded that he shirked any of his duties or was 
ever found wanting in the battle line.
  However, it was a far cry from the old swimming hole at "Miller's Bridge" and 
its peaceful surroundings to the bloody fields of stormy strife; and doubtless 
the fun-loving boy was glad when it was over and he was permitted to return to 
the beloved haunts of his youth. Be that as it may, his sunny spirit had not 
been clouded nor his optimistic outlook impaired by the stormy scenes through 
which he had gone. Life looked good to him and he continued to scatter about him 
the joys of perennial good humor.
  For several years after the war he was employed on the farm and in the 
railroad shops and then entered the employ of the Altoona Gas Company where he 
continued for twenty-five years, rising to the position of assistant 
superintendent. During these years he went about his duties with the steady 
faithfulness, honesty of purpose and kindliness of heart that was always 
characteristic of the boy. He was popular with his associates and loved by his 
subordinates, not because he made any conscious effort to win popularity or 
esteem, but because he was straightforward and sincere and was naturally full of 
the milk of human kindness.
  While temperate in all things, he despised nothing that was good and enjoyed 
all things. He accepted the good that the gods brought him and was thankful. His 
humor was of the spontaneous sort and would bubble over at the most unexpected 
and some times inopportune moments. At his sister's wedding, when the solemn 
ceremony was being conducted in the presence of a large company, by an eminent 
and dignified divine, "Tom" could not repress a joke, and, coming from him, it 
was not in bad taste, either. When the "love, honor and obey" stage was reached, 
he interjected in a stage whisper "and cook three meals on Sunday." There was 
something in the tone so purely whimsical and artless that there was no element 
of offense or vulgarity felt and, beyond provoking a smile from every one, there 
was no further violence done to the proprieties.
  But, as previously stated, "Tom" wore no man's collar, and when there arose 
one in authority "who knew not Joseph" and new methods of handling men that did 
not appeal to his sense of fairness and that deprived him somewhat of his 
freedom and independence of thought, there was bound to be a clash, and he left 
the employ of the gas company and set up the cigar store within a stone's throw 
of his long-time place of employment, and there he is yet.
  There is probably no other place in the town, where so many questions of 
moment to municipality, state and nation have been discussed. If there is any 
local statesman who wishes to be informed as to his exact limitations, his 
powers and short comings and general standing in the community, let him get the 
concensus of opinion at "Tom" Kantner's. He may not find the photograph as 
flattering as it is accurate, but then that is no fault of this body of 
character painters. They are realists and not responsible for the bad subjects.
  While, of course, there is always more or less of personal prejudice mixed 
into their appraisement of men and things, on the whole their perspectives are 
apt to be fairly accurate. This country has been builded by parliaments of this 
sort, and while the government shows marks of their imperfections, as worked out 
at the polls, yet after all there is probably no better government on the face 
of the earth. At least, it is exactly what these small assemblys make it.
  It does not necessarily follow that the concensus of opinion as gathered in 
"Tom's" place will be his own opinion. His personality must always be taken into 
account. His opinion, when once formed, will be a very decided one, and he will 
usually give expression to it with great frankness, but in order to become his 
opinion it must pass through the crucible of his own mentality, and in the 
process it is likely to take on a number of qualifications peculiarly his own. 
Like Mr. Dooly, he will even question the accuracy of accepted history as 
applied to individuals. When the small fry defamer of great men begins to dig 
out of the cess pool of the past evidences of an evil life, "Tom" is apt to 
inquire when the victim of the attack found so much time to perform great deeds.
  On the other hand he is the sworn enemy of the four-flusher or gallery-player 
- the insincere player for popular approval merely for the purpose of feathering 
his own nest at the expense of someone else whom he would pull down. In short he 
has no use for humbug of any sort, and his iconoclastic wit can destroy a fake 
idol as rapidly as hades would scorch a feather.
  Standing content in his quiet little domain, he has no ambition but to be 
just, and no desire to climb to the seats of the mighty; but he is a good 
example of the intelligent American citizen who appraises things at about their 
true value, and, while regarding with kindly tolerance all the foolish things in 
life, entertains nothing but contempt for pomposity, deceit and petty 
crookedness.
  "Tom" will never grow old. There is the same ring in his laugh today that 
attracted the attention of the stranger at the swimming hole in the long ago, 
and we fancy that it will still be the same when he strikes glad hands with old 
chums in the great beyond.

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