BIO: Blain McCormick, Tillard Pen Pictures, 1911, Blair County, PA Contributed April 2003 for use in the USGenWeb Archives by Judy Banja 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 Varied Career of BLAIM McCORMICK Reared on Country Farm, He Was in Turn Canal Boatman, Gold Digger and Railroad Official A stranger seeing Blain McCormick in his walks about the town would scarcely guess that he had well nigh reached his four-score years. Barring the silvery whiteness of hair and beard, there is no evidence of decrepitude about him. His eye is clear, his complexion bears the ruddy flush of health, his walk is springy and his voice rings as clear as it did when he held the destinies of the Altoona railroad yards in his grasp and directed the movement of traffic. But, notwithstanding these signs of preservation, Mr. McCormick has more than lived out the allotted time of man, and his has not been a life of ease at that. He has traveled about a bit in his time and all of the years have been filled with vigorous effort and high endeavor in the hurly-burly of life. He was born on an Indiana County farm on December 11, 1830. The Scotch-Irish blood that coursed through his veins was a guaranty that he would be industrious, straight forward and thorough. Whatever his hands found to do would be done with his might, whether breaking a colt, following the plough or indulging in country frolic. He worked hard and played hard. There was no half way or halfhearted measures in anything he did. His health was robust and there was joy in very existence. He gathered strength from the hills and vitality from the pure air of the country. He reveled in the sunlight and rejoiced in the storm. To his young eyes the world looked inviting and beautiful and great and its opportunities boundless. He felt that there was nothing in it he could not conquer and it held no difficulties that he could not surmount. In short, he was the typical American boy rejoicing in his manhood and his freedom, realizing that all the world was his oyster and he meant to open it. He was plentifully endowed with the safe, sane and healthy ambitions of that period that wished to succeed itself, but was willing that all his fellows should do likewise. He had neither greed for gold nor o'erweening ambition for power. He only wanted to live and let live; to perform his part on the stage of human action creditably and well. When he was fifteen years old he had outgrown the farm and started out for greater adventures. The people of the New Continent had just began to awaken to its vastness and the possibilities of its development. Save a few restless souls, who had pushed out into the great interior valleys along the water ways, the population lived on the Atlantic Seaboard and the eastern slopes of the Alleghanies. What was needed to conquer the vast reaches of this country of magnificent distances, was better methods of transportation. And with this problem his life work became identified. He was just at the beginning. Leaving the farm he began to drive mules on the towpath of the western division of the Pennsylvania Canal. He passed through all the stages of the boatman's life in a few years. Driver, steersman and captain, he exhausted its possibilities and longed for new worlds to conquer. The new world spread before him. Its attractions were glittering. Great tales were being told on the canal boats of the magic gold fields of California. Thither all eyes were turned and all ambitions found their Mecca. It did not take the young boatman long to decide. Gathering to himself several more adventurous souls, they started for the land of promise. Crossing the mountains to the eastward, they sailed from New York January 20, 1852, for the Isthmus of Panama. How they were to get further on their journey was left for circumstances to decide. It did not greatly corncern them. "Sufficient unto the day was the evil thereof." They were not finding trouble until it confronted them. Besides were they not capable of all things? When they reached the eastern shores of the Isthmus, they contracted with some natives to pole them up the Chartres River as far as it was possible to go. This proved to be about sixteen miles. They walked the balance of the way to Panama, and caught their first glimpse of the Pacific. They had achieved a feat, but it was only in the day's march and not to be taken seriously. Prom Panama they found comparatively easy passage to San Francisco by sailing vessel. After surveying the sights of the Golden Gate, they started inland via the Sacramento River. Somewhere near its headwaters they located at a mining camp bearing the highly suggestive title of "Hangtown." Its name was indicative of the kind of justice meted out in that locality. It was changed to Placerville after the lugubrious name on the signboard had frightened off the malefactors. Here they stayed for three years. The life was free, joyous and lucrative. True, they did not carry away fabulous fortunes, but as has been previously mentioned, the time had not yet come in our national history when men were crazed with greed. Their importance to the fabric of society had not yet come to be measured by their possessions and there was still a decided tendency to ask how it was gotten, rather than how much has he got. But they had a good time and did not come back empty handed. When they reached Panama on the homeward journey, they found better transportation facilities and reached home in less than a month. In the meantime the Pennsylvania Railroad had been projected and the iron horse was roaming through the woods in which Mr. McCormick had driven his towpath mules. This looked good to him and straightway he applied for a place on the new highway. On July 1, 1855, he began duty as a brakeman on the Pittsburg Division. He was so constituted that he never stayed long at the starting place, and he was quickly made flagman and then conductor. There was no trick or experience in those primitive days of railroading that he did not mix with and learn. Repair shops were few and far between; there were miles of single track and the whole character of the equipment was experimental and problematical. Methods were not cut and dried and it required courage, aptness and some power of initiative to successfully pilot a freight train through the Alleghany Mountains. After some eight or nine years on the road he came to Altoona as assistant yardmaster, and he finished the balance of the century as yardmaster in this city. He probably never had a thought as to his doing anything more than his simple duty. He was never ambitious to acquire wealth or achieve fame. He never grasped for honors or stooped to rake money from the mire. He was simply a plain hard working citizen who performed the duty of the hour, and after all it is men like him who have made the country great. His life in this community is an open book, that he who runs may read, but there are probably more pretentious citizens whose achievements would but illy compare with his. When the recording angel shall write finis on the book of the ages and true perspectives be established in the white light of eternity, the multitudes of the obscure who have toiled in the ranks of the race will come into their own, for some time, some day, justice will come into her own and the plain people, of whom God made so many, will find their reward. #