{"id":25383,"date":"2016-02-07T23:35:50","date_gmt":"2016-02-08T04:35:50","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/getitright.pmss.net\/?page_id=25383"},"modified":"2019-06-13T23:39:24","modified_gmt":"2019-06-14T03:39:24","slug":"oscar-kneller","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"http:\/\/staging.pinemountainsettlement.net\/?page_id=25383","title":{"rendered":"OSCAR KNELLER"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
Pine Mountain Settlement School
Series 09: Biography – Staff\/Personnel
Series 12: Farm<\/h5>\n\n\n\n

OSCAR KNELLER<\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Dairyman, Farmer and
Teacher of Agriculture, 1931- February 1934
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\"Oscar
Summer 1934. (l. to r.) Oscar Kneller, Miss Lewis, Ben Turner, Tom Madon, Mrs. Faulkner, Miss Alice Cobb, Mr. Winfrey, Mrs. Baird, Mr. Burns. [X_100_workers_2569d_mod.jpg]<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n
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TAGS: <\/strong>Oscar Kneller ; farmers ; teachers ; Glyn Morris ; Albright College ; dynamite ; eye injuries ; William Hayes ; farm management ; August Angel ; Tom Madon ; Maureen Faulkner ; Alice Cobb <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Oscar Kneller was a classmate of Glyn Morris<\/a> at Albright College in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. He was hired by Morris to take over responsibilities for the farm when the previous farmer left and there was no opportunity to go through a full recruitment for the position.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

To finance his studies at Albright College, Oscar secured a loan from the Educational Aid Society of the Evangelical Church. The loan was specifically for the training of men who were going into the active ministry. After graduation, Oscar applied to serve as a missionary for the church but no positions were available. He then accepted a position at Pine Mountain after hearing about it from Glyn Morris. Later, in a 1935 letter<\/a> to the Educational Aid Society’s Treasurer on behalf of Oscar, Morris described how well Oscar’s training fit the needs of PMSS and vice versa:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All during his student days he desired to be an agricultural missionary, so that when I took up my duties as Director of the Pine Mountain school in 1931, I sent for him at once, feeling that this was the ideal place for him to use not only his<\/em> agricultural training, but his social and religious training as well. He came at once, and for a time worked on our staff as a volunteer worker. Later he became the head farmer.<\/em><\/p>Glyn Morris, 1935<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

Oscar was on the staff for only a few years when he met with a life-changing turn of events. On November 14, 1933, he was removing large rocks from the barnyard so the cows would have more space to roam. He was using dynamite to dislodge particularly stubborn rocks. As the work progressed, one rock had been drilled and loaded for blasting but failed to detonate. Oscar went to inspect why the dynamite had not ignited and was hit by a surprise blast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The result was a devastating injury to his eyes which left him, for all practical purposes, blind. He spent 10 days at Harlan Hospital. On February 16, 1934, he left the School and returned to Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania, area to live with his sisters and recover from the injury. It was a slow and painful recovery for him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The damage to his eyes, while devastating, began improving over time and he was able to maintain correspondence with many of the staff at the School, particularly with Glyn Morris. Oscar Kneller’s CORRESPONDENCE<\/a> details his struggle to come to terms with the accident and with the resulting unemployment. Morris came to his assistance in several instances, particularly with a plea to the Educational Aid Society to postpone Oscar’s outstanding debt and in helping him find another job.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was the loss of Oscar Kneller that brought William Hayes<\/a>, a student who had just graduated from Pine Mountain, into the Farm Manager position. With the assistance of Brit Wilder<\/a>, Bill stayed in that position for another twenty-six years. He also remained in contact with Oscar Kneller for many years and called on his assistance later as Kneller’s eyes cleared and he was able to do limited work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

An accounting of the accident was captured by August Angel<\/a> in his autobiography, Trivia & Me,<\/em> written from memory shortly before his death in 1996. Present when the dynamite accident occurred, August graphically describes the accident. He also adds notes on other escapades that the two engaged in while PMSS staff in the early 1930s. The following story by August vividly captures the person of Oscar Kneller:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Jim Faulkner<\/a>, a colleague, and I shared a one-room log cabin, Pole House<\/a>, on a knoll where now stands West Wind<\/a>. The cabin was primitive with an outhouse and a spigot for cold water on the outside. Jim was a graduate of Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio, and he taught auto mechanics.<\/em><\/p>

….Jim and I roomed together until the Christmas weekend when he married another teacher named Barbara <\/a><\/em>[Wilbur], who was a graduate of an eastern Ivy League women\u2019s college. They then honeymooned in Pole House<\/a> and set up residency there. As a result, I moved in with Oscar Kneller<\/strong>, the school\u2019s farm boss.<\/em><\/p>

The one-room log cabin I shared with Oscar was called \u201cThe Cabin,\u201d and had a faucet supplying cold water and a screened-in sleeping porch with bunk beds for two. It was located midway up the path from the swimming pool<\/a> to Farm House<\/a>. Oscar was an amiable roommate and we had no problem sharing the close, small quarters. The Cabin was comfortable and just big enough to accommodate our meager belongings. The sleeping porch was ideal when the weather was mild. However, come fall and winter, both Oscar and I would dress with about all the heavy clothes we possessed before jumping into the ice-cold beds. After having spent the night in a fetal position to conserve body heat, we always felt warm and cozy in the morning snuggling up to the banked pot-bellied stove inside<\/em>.<\/p>

Oscar was a classmate of the school\u2019s director, Glyn Morris,<\/a> when both studied at the Union Theological Seminary in New York City. [Actually, they were classmates at Albright College in Wilkes-Barre, PA, and the two had known each other growing up.] Both were also from Pennsylvania. Oscar grew up on a family farm and in a farm community. At Pine Mountain, he assumed the challenge of farm boss in charge of boys working in and studying agriculture and dairy<\/em>.<\/p>

…One moonless and extremely dark night, Oscar and I were returning to The Cabin<\/a> from a workers\u2019 social hour. On the path alongside the branch from Laurel House<\/a> to the swimming pool, I exclaimed that I couldn\u2019t see the way. Oscar reassured me by saying, \u201cPut your hand on my shoulder. I see okay.\u201d The branch was running full because of recent rains. You can guess the rest of this story \u2013 as I followed Oscar in the pitch dark, he led us over the edge and we both plunged into the cold, waist-deep waters of the branch. So went life on an unlit path, pre-dating electricity at the school<\/em>.<\/p>

One day<\/em>, Oscar drilled a hole in a very large rock in which to set a stick of dynamite. The plan was to blast and shatter the rock so that it could be removed, providing more space for the dairy cows in the barn lot. After the hole was drilled, the charge was set with a five-foot length fuse, and the hold was capped with mud, Oscar lit the fuse. It sparkled and crackled until it reached the mud packing -\u2013 and then became silent. He waited impatiently for what he believed was long enough and returned to the rock to<\/em> re-fuse or recharge. The instant Oscar disturbed the mud, the smoldering fuse re-ignited and set off the blasting cap and dynamite. The full force of the blast hit Oscar as he was crouched over the charge. Luckily, he was not killed, but he received<\/em> severe injury to his chest, entire face, and scalp. His skin in all those areas was peppered and embedded with small pieces of rock, and mostly rock sand.<\/em><\/p>

I spent many hours during the months following his accident opening up irritated, scabbed-over sore spots, and digging out particles of sand and rock from under his skin. The greatest injury was to his eyeballs that healed only after surgery and prolonged intensive care \u2013 but he was declared legally blind. In time, he regained enough sight to be able to read with a hand-held magnifying glass. At the end of the school year, Oscar left the campus and returned to his home in Pennsylvania, where he became employed by the county as a highway employee, a job he held for many years until he died.<\/em><\/p>

Oscar was stuck on one of the girls at school, Nellie Hugh<\/strong>. He was serious enough about her to think about marriage. But the dynamite accident, resulting loss of sight, and his departure from the school put to an end to all thoughts of marriage. In fact, he never married.<\/em><\/p>Angel, August D. Trivia & Me: An Octogenarian Mirrors His Twentieth Century.<\/em> London, KY: August David Angel, 2007. Pages 74-76. Print. [Reproduced with permission.]<\/cite><\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n

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Oscar L. Kneller was born in 1905 to John Wesley Kneller, a farmer, and Martha Ann (Gibbs) Kneller. He was the second oldest of his four siblings: Robert A., Cora M., John H., and Ealnor (sic)<\/em> L. All the family members were born in Pennsylvania and living in Cherry, Sullivan County, as of the 1920 U.S. Census and Rummerfield, Bradford County, as of the 1940 U.S. Census.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Oscar died on August 11, 1975, in Bradford County. He was buried at Standing Stone Cemetery, Standing Stone (Bradford County), Pennsylvania.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

See also: OSCAR KNELLER CORRESPONDENCE<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

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GALLERY – OSCAR KNELLER<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n