A Sketch of the Life of Waldo A. Hardison

By Lowell M. Hardison
Santa Paula, CALIFORNIA
December, 1942

My brother, Waldo, the eldest of six sons in the family of Jacob and Elizabeth Adaline Smiley Hardison, was born on February 11, 1831, in letter H. Township, New Caribou, Aroostook County, Maine. According to J. P. Small, my father was away from home at the time and about the first words he said to mother on greeting her, after warming himself and his clothes so as not to bring the Maine winter into the bedroom, were: "I'm proud of you." The eldest son, though subjected to the usual diseases of children, was always robust and of cheery disposition though not a great laugher, and was always teasing us younger children. In the minds of his con- temporaries this latter characteristic seemed a great virtue.

When Waldo reached the age of seven, he went to the district school in the second schoolhouse built in the township, situated on the edge of Farnham swamp, or frog-pond. He attended the first session held in the building and his instructor was Lydia Bickford. The school had no playground so the children, for their brief recreation period, had to cross the road and climb a fence to get into Vaughan's pasture. Most of Waldo's education was obtained in this little building, and in that day only the zealous progressed, for study had to be done by tallow candle light after the chores were finished. Since our father's farm boasted about a dozen head of cattle, a span of horses, a small flock of sheep, geese kept in a hollow log, and some chickens-more than one hired man could take care of-and chores had to be done before and after school, it meant a long day for a youngster.

It was the practice in this little school to hold a spelling match once a week. Old and young toed a line on either side of the schoolroom. Each was obliged to spell correctly and define the word given out by the teacher-or sit down. To make the spelling bee more popular a wrestling match was added to the program. During the long winter evenings in that northern latitude the boys came from near and far to participate in the sport. The audience formed a circle around the wrestlers whose falls were broken and injury prevented by a blanket of light snow. The gladiators of ancient Rome had no better setting than those farmer boys of Northern Maine who wrestled in an arena lighted by a brilliant moon and the aurora borealis. Waldo soon became the champion of our community and after he was eighteen he was never thrown.

It was Uncle Franklin Smiley who taught him wrestling tricks, learned while attending an academy, which Waldo used to good advantage.

Most of Waldo's education was received in this little school- house. Later, however, he attended the State Normal School at Farmington, Maine, for about two years. After leaving Farmington he taught school in districts near Caribou, in accordance with the state law which required as many terms of teaching as were received in instruction at a normal school. In company with C. Blake Roberts, a graduate of the State Normal, he taught a term of high school in Caribou, which they called "A Little Normal." They started it early in the fall so that those who intended to teach could enroll and learn the new wrinkles in pedagogy. About seven- teen prospective teachers signed up for the course. Waldo gave instruction in higher mathematics-algebra, geometry, trigonometry-while Roberts had charge of the cultural subjects such as English, geography and reading.

Many were the activities Waldo enjoyed, though he was never what might be called a sportsman, for he never enjoyed killing things. East of the barn on the old home farm were an alder swamp and a brook fed by the many springs that lined its western shore. The alders in this swamp grew tall, slim, and straight like bamboo. The boys of the neighborhood used them for fishing poles. Fishing was one of the sports in which he excelled. At the north end of the swamp was quite a wide depression extending over the line on to property belonging to W. A. Vaughan. This swamp, when full of water, covered an acre of land, especially when the boys dammed up the outlet. In the spring, when the water was deep, the boys learned to handle a raft and to ride a log while standing up. When the weather was warm, we used the pond as a swimming pool. Here such well known boys as Charles P. Collins, Jim Wright, and Frank Barrows learned to swim and dive. When the pond was frozen over with a clear sheet of ice, it was used for skating. Here it was that the Caribou boys and girls learned to cut the figure eight. Martha Adams and Clara Collins were two of the girls who were allowed by their parents to enjoy this form of recreation with the boys. In reality they were about the only girls who possessed skates. It was on this pond that Waldo perfected his ice skating

ability. He was an excellent skater and in later years he found much pleasure in roller skating. This lake has long since disappeared and but few will remember its existence. The center of the lake used to be about two hundred yards from Waldo's final resting place on the hill.

While my brother was not an ardent sportsman, he hunted and fished at odd times. As a young man he seemed to prefer activities that required caution and physical ability. He liked to swim, and he could dive from the bridge pier in the Aroostook River and pick up pebbles from the bed. He liked to climb to the high beams in the barn, and there he would stand on his head. He was limber and strong and could lean over backward and touch his head to the floor, or turn a series of handsprings. The development of these abilities proved of value to him later in life.

As might be expected of one who had been reared in those pioneer days, work held no terrors for Waldo. Later in life, while superintending the sinking of oil wells, he would often act as an extra man, relieving the driller or tool dresser if the latter wished to get off for a day. In the early days of the oil business the bits were dressed by hand in the derrick. Waldo's youthful strength and dexterity stood him in good stead in this business. He could swing a sixteen pound sledge by the end of the handle. This may explain his agility on another occasion.

One Sunday while in Dogtown, or Monroeville, Pennsylvania, I was walking with Waldo when we passed a vacant lot where thirty or forty men were pitching pike pole. They said, "Come in Hardison, and show us how well you can pitch." He said, "I can't pitch. I haven't thrown a pole for ten years." "Try, anyhow," they said, so he toed the mark and made a throw. The pole went several feet beyond the best throw of the day. A number of the men said, "You can't do it again!" Once more he toed the mark and made a throw. The pole went six feet beyond his previous throw.

Not only was he dexterous with the pole, but he was sure footed and steady headed. He could climb the highest derrick and, standing on the crown block, he could with ease pull up the sand line that had jumped the pulley. With all of his daring he was cautious,

however. An incident in his early life reveals his confidence in his own judgment and ability.

One spring before he left home, Waldo helped father drive his winter's cut of logs down the Caribou Stream to the Collins' Mill. Where the stream crossed the home farm the land was quite flat. During the spring freshet it was always covered with several feet of water. The logs had piled up, forming a jam, and the key log that held up the drive had to be pried loose. Waldo undertook the job, but succeeded so well that the jam started before he was ready. Rather than take a chance on reaching the shore over rolling logs, he jumped into the water ahead of the logs and swam down stream until he came to a tree standing beyond the deep water. He climbed it high enough to let the logs go by, then swam ashore none the worse for his icy bath.

Those who knew Waldo in the prime of life will recall a man of excellent physique, six feet and one inch in height, weighing about two hundred and fifteen pounds. He was never what might be called "fleshy", had a good head of hair sprinkled with gray in later life, and brown eyes that required no glasses until after he was sixty-five years old. He had a habit of throwing his shoulders back while walking, which gave him an air of defiance. While he never had a fight, no one wanted to challenge his right of way.

On February 14, 1872, three days after Waldo became twenty- one years of age, he left home to go to Clarion County, Pennsylvania, lured by the oil excitement there and the idea of making a fortune. His first job was that of a roustabout on wells for which his uncles, James and Harvey Hardison, were the contractors. W. L. Hardison, C. P. Collins, Eugene Dean, and John Brown were drillers and tool dressers.

In March of 1872 Waldo went into partnership with W. L. Hardison, Charles McGority, and Barney McGority in putting down a well on the Eaton Grant lease on the Lorah farm in Clarion County. This was his first venture as an oil producer. "W. L.", or Uncle Wallace, and Barney were the drillers; Waldo and Charles were the tool dressers. They brought in a small well at that time. Later Waldo became a driller on the Lorah Farm for "W. L." and Milligan.

He bought tools and contracted to drill wells by the foot. He leased land and formed companies to develop it-always retaining the controlling interest. In company with a cousin, C. P. Collins, and Eugene Dean, he leased land and drilled a well in Butler County which proved to be dry. It broke them up in business. They re- turned to Clarion County and went to work by the day for a short time. When oil was discovered in McKane [McKean] County, Pennsylvania, he moved in and drilled several wells. Also he owned an interest in wells in Duke Center, Pennsylvania. When the Bradford oil field commenced to boom in 1881, Waldo moved north again. He was one of the first to arrive at Richburg, Pennsylvania, another oil center, but he made his headquarters at Allentown a few miles distant. Later he located in Bolivar, New York, where he made his home for a number of years.

At Bolivar, Waldo formed a partnership with Frank and Charles Streeter who were contractors and producers-a partnership which lasted for thirty-five years. The firm drilled wells in Pennsylvania, Ohio, Kentucky, West Virginia, New York, and Indian Territory- Oklahoma now. All in all they drilled more than five hundred wells.

In the Lima, Ohio, oil field the Hardison and Streeter Company brought in one well that was estimated to have a production of over five thousand barrels a day. Because of the limited capacity of the pipe line and the fact that the Standard Oil Company would not buy their surplus, they had much trouble in disposing of their black gold. They were allowed to ship only six hundred barrels a day and could fill a tank of that capacity in two hours. This field caused them much trouble; its richness, the expenses attendant on production, and the enmity of the Standard Oil Company nearly bankrupt the firm. Concerning this period in Waldo's life, a story is current that he wrote to a friend asking him to send him some money so he could get home. Instead of conforming to the request, the friend sent him a pair of boots that he might walk home.

Sometime in February, 1885, Waldo made his first trip to California where he visited in Uncle Wallace's home and mine. At that time he stated that he liked Southern California, but thought it a poor country in which to do business. Eleven years later, 1896. he returned and spent the winter. While here in Santa Paula he bought an interest in the Teague Lemon Orchard-Teague Forty- which proved an excellent investment during his lifetime. In 1915 he located permanently in California, finally settling just east of Santa Paula in Fillmore where he spent the last years of his life. Every two years, however, he would make the trip back to his native state, Maine, stopping on the way to visit old friends in Bolivar, New York.

The above notes indicate a shift in Waldo's interest, a shift from oil to farming-or "ranching", as we say in the west. In 1911 he bought a large interest in a new company that was being formed -the Hardison Ranch Company. In 1927, along with Will Deane, he purchased a large tract of land on the northwest end of the Camarillo Hills-a ranch that is now known as Rancho Del Tio.

In December 1911 Waldo was elected director of the Hardison Ranch Company to fill a vacancy caused by the resignation of Cora C. Hardison. On the same day he was elected president of the company, filling a vacancy caused by the resignation of Guy L. Hardison. He held this position until April 1923, but remained on the board of directors until his death.

Another directorship which he enjoyed for many years was that of the Citizen's State Bank in Santa Paula.

Waldo's life was not made up entirely of business. Masonry had a great appeal for him. He took his first degrees in Wellsville, Pennsylvania, November 13, 1884. Throughout his lifetime he retained his membership in several lodges; the Bolivar Lodge and Chapter, the St. John's Commandery at Olean, New York, and the Mystic Shrine in Buffalo, New York. While in California he at- tended the Santa Paula Blue Lodge as well as the Fillmore Blue Lodge.

In line with his devotion to a lodge with Christian ideals might be mentioned Waldo's loyalty to the Universalist Church. He was always faithful in his attendance at, and generous in his contributions to the church in Santa Paula. It was in this church that his mother was baptized and admitted to membership. The window in the Sunday School room, dedicated to Jacob Hardison, was donated by "Uncle Waldo". I believe there is one in the Caribou church for which he was the donor, also. Moreover, he contributed generously to the fund which was raised to meet the expenses of repairs on that church.

Throughout Waldo's long business career he avoided lawsuits. In fact he had no use for lawyers. To him they were always trouble- makers. He would not do business with anyone whom he thought to be dishonest, so he really had no need for a lawyer. He never gambled, ten to one was no temptation to him on a horse race. He would, however, run the risk of getting a dry hole-or an oilwell-on his own judgment. He lost $35,000 in a gold mine because he wanted to help some old partners. ' He said, at the time, that he never expected to see the money again. He bought the stock with- out any faith in its value. To tell the truth he lost more money by dealing with his friends-helping them out, so to speak-than by high pressure salesmen.

As a result of wise investments and good management, Waldo accumulated a large fortune. He was industrious and frugal; kept out of debt; never loaned money for speculation, though he was "guilty" of buying worthless stock. With all of his frugality he never forgot those who were less fortunate than he. After his death his administrator discovered a lengthy list of "pensioners": widows, orphans, old men unable to work, and young people struggling to get an education. He believed in helping those who were trying to help themselves.

On viewing the life of a man as successful as my brother, one often wonders why he never married. Perhaps no one can say definitely. We know that for about seven years he "kept company" with one young woman. It may have been that she found him too interested in getting ahead to think of marriage, so decided to wait no longer. He was always popular with members of the opposite sex. In his youth, however, he was given to solving problems while dancing which he enjoyed, much to the consternation of his partner. Music evidently stimulated his imagination. In fact, he was the one member of the family who had any talent for music. Perhaps that is why he was always so interested in seeing that his nieces and nephews had an opportunity to study music, or had the instruments on which to practice.

A subject in which westerners are not usually so interested as easterners is French. As a young man Waldo had the opportunity of living in a community where there were a number of French Canadians. An interest in their language endured throughout his lifetime. He always kept up his reading; in fact, as an old man of eighty-five he carried a small book or article in French in his pocket so that he could browse through it when a free moment permitted. For a number of years he corresponded with his nephew's wife, Mrs. Grover Hardison, in that language.

On July 7, 1936, about eight o'clock in the evening, while driving in Fillmore, he made a left hand turn and collided with an- other car going at a high rate of speed. Although his car was wrecked, he thought that he was only slightly injured. From that time, however, he complained of his back hurting him. On October 29th, he was taken to the Cottage Hospital in Santa Barbara. There he passed away on December 9, 1936, at the age of eighty-five years and ten months. His remains, accompanied by myself and my daughter, Lucy Frey, were returned to the place of his birth, Caribou, Maine. A large number of friends gathered at the Universalist Church to do reverence to his memory. He was buried in the family lot beside his father and mother, in Evergreen Cemetery, where rest six generations of Hardisons.

Mr. Herrick, editor of the Bolivar (N. Y.) Breeze, published a letter after Waldo's death which I have taken the liberty of condensing:

"Waldo A. Hardison was a man of the highest integrity. He enjoyed his friends and they were fond of him. He knew that the only way to have friends was to be a friend. He gave freely to worthy objects and helped many friends over rough places in the road of life.

He had fought a good fight. He fell asleep-never to awake- 'drifting out on the dark and unknown sea that rolls around the world'."