BIO: Benjamin Stein, 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 

                      "UNCLE BEN" STEIN Plays Vesper Tunes

   "A Mute Inglorious Hero" of Many Battles, Enjoys The Evening Calm of Life

WHEN the people of the East End, on a summer evening, hear the mellifluous notes 
of a flute floating on the breeze, playing "Annie Laurie" or "The Girl I Left 
Behind Me," varied by the ear-splitting fife, speiling out the notes of "John 
Brown's Body," "Marching Through Georgia" or the "Star-Spangled Banner," they 
know that "Uncle Ben" Stein has for the nonce thrown off the burden of his 
eighty years, resurrected his ancient war instruments and is in spirit 
enlivening the camp, cheering the march or leading his old regiment into battle. 
Though his hair is white, his step feeble and his breath scanty, in times of 
enthusiasm the veteran strikes a note as true and strong as he did in the early 
sixties. The old fingers lose their palsy and skip along the familiar stem of 
the worn fife as nimbly as they did in the old days and the tune rings out 
blithely and bravely.
  Benjamin Stein came from a musical family and his skill with all sorts of 
instruments was great, but in his simplicity of character and modesty of 
demeanor, when he heard the call of the country for men to defend its existence, 
it never occurred to him to seek an opportunity to parade his gifts or display 
his skill. He was going out to fight and surely the musket was the proper 
equipment for a soldier. In any case, it was the most numerous and easiest to be 
obtained and he shouldered it and marched off. But in times of stress men find 
their sphere as water finds its level, and one day early in the campaign, the 
chief musician fell by the wayside and, stooping over him, Mr. Stein took the 
fife from the nerveless fingers and, picking up the note that his comrade had 
dropped, he went marching on; and he has had the fife ever since. His life was 
apparently charmed, as he shirked nothing of danger and walked hand-in-hand with 
death, and while his comrades fell all about him, the missiles all went wide, so 
far as he was concerned.
  After the battle was on, it was the duty of the musicians to succor the 
wounded and minister to the dying, and they were frequently under the hottest of 
the fire. On Gettysburg's gory field he was assisting in carrying off a wounded 
comrade, when a bullet from the enemy's firing line tore through his fatigue cap 
and pierced the body of the man carrying the front end of the stretcher.
  As a matter of fact, when the smoke of battle lifted from off that sanguinary 
scene, only three privates and one officer of the fifer's company were able to 
answer roll-call.
  Every man and woman who is acquainted with the old gentleman and has analyzed 
his characteristics knows just what he would do under circumstances of this 
sort. Those who have seen him in other times of trouble and have heard his voice 
raised in prayer, know that he "would stand still to see the deliverance of the 
Lord." At all times and at all seasons he did the next thing, with the assurance 
that somehow the scheme of life would work out right. The situation might be a 
trifle puzzling, but when his fellow-bearer fell, the next thing to do, after 
assuring himself that he was dead, was to finish the job on hand and get the 
wounded man out of harm's way without any reference to results to himself. The 
obvious thing was to carry him as far as he could alone and then wait for help. 
In the meantime he was over-taken by the enemy - it all went into the game - but 
in any case the wounded man must not be abandoned.
  And all of his life the other fellow has been getting the best of it. At 
least, "Uncle Ben" has never done anything to protect himself. His friends have 
always protested against his "easiness" in allowing designing people to devour 
his substance, but his invariable reply is, "The poor fellow needed it." On this 
principle he has come a long way on life's journey and, though his accumulations 
have been scanty, notwithstanding a life of ceaseless industry, he is at peace 
with all the world and, so far as any one can see, has no regrets for his 
altruistic views. He has always helped and never hindered, and his cheerfulness 
is perennial. Fire has several times destroyed all his possessions and he has 
suffered such ills as to drive a more worldly-minded individual to distraction, 
but his equinimity has never been seriously disturbed. He still kept "pegging 
away," sorrowing more over the troubles of his neighbors than he ever did over 
his own.
  He has no illusions as to the importance of any of his acts in the world, and 
would deprecate any attempt on the part of any one to attribute any great deeds 
to his name, but there are a few things in his history that afford him 
considerable gratification. When alone with his old cronies, there will several 
of them mutually brag of having voted for "Abe" Lincoln three times. Of course, 
this is something of a distinction for Pennsylvanians, but in the fifties Mr. 
Stein, in company with some of his relatives and his father's family, moved to 
Stephenson County, Illinois, from Schuylkill County, Pennsylvania. "Abe" and the 
"little giant," Stephen Douglass, were then heating up that locality in their 
joint debates. An ardent admirer of the "rail splitter," Mr. Stein followed his 
beloved idol about the district, listening to the talk, and was, of course, 
profoundly delighted by Lincoln's subsequent successes. When the war clouds grew 
ominous, he hastened back to his native state to enlist, and became a member of 
Company D, One Hundred and Fifty-first Regiment, Pennsylvania Infantry.
  The war over, he became a farmer in Juniata County, his father moving from 
Illinois to Jericho Mills. For many years his life flowed on in peaceful calm, 
barring the ills that come to all men, and he never complained of his. Twenty 
years ago he came to Altoona and up until quite recently was the sexton at the 
Fifth Avenue Methodist Church.
  For him the sands of life are almost run out. He has never achieved renown, 
and wealth has never come his way, but he has been a good citizen for a' that 
and a' that, and his sublime faith in the general beneficence of the universe 
will certainly bring to him joys in the future that he has missed in the past, 
if the harmonies do not fall out and things go all awry.

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