Owen Louis O'Hara

      Owen Louis O'Hara was also known as Cobb.¹ He was born on 4 March 1917 at Carpenter Creek, Mussleshell County, Montana.¹ He was the son of Hugh O'Hara and Josephine Gerlach.¹

Owen was enumerated with Hugh O'Hara on the census of 3 April 1930 at Wright Street, Frontenac, Crawford County, Kansas, as Owen L. O'Hara. He is a 13 year old single white male born in Montana. His father waws born in Scotland and his mother was born in Minnesota. He attends school.²

Owen Louis O'Hara married Erma Vandelli, daughter of Louis Vandelli and Marcella Lami, on 29 May 1960 at Frontenac, Crawford County, Kansas.

O'Hara's reflections on Irish Hill
By J.T. KNOLL
Owen 'Cobb' O'Hara remembers when there would be 25 or 30 men sitting along the low wall near the service station across McKay street from the house where he grew up -- and still lives in today.
"Let's see ... there was the Laverys, the Jones brothers, the Yartzs, McNeills, Krusich ...
"Back then, nobody went up town. Everybody from the west end would gather there," he interjects, a smile widening on his face, his eyes flashing.
"Yeah, I can see the Riffel brothers, Drenik, the O'Haras of course, McManus, the Kelly brothers, Mulligan, the Delaney brothers, Kreus ... Your dad was there. He even ran the station for a little while."
That was back in the the 30s when life was a lot simpler ... and money was scarce as hen's teeth.
"My older brother James went to work in a CCC (Civilian Conservation Corp) camp in Minnesota to help out the family while I finished high school," Cobb says. "Then he came back and finished high school while I went to work in the CCC camp in Farlington."
'Course, growing up in a moneyless, Irish, coal mining family, he was no stranger to helping out. First helped Roger Bezinque peddle milk around town in his old Model T. When he got a little older, Bezinques hired him to work the fields and the barn. "The horses not the cows. I loved horses. But I didn't want nothin to do with milkin' cows. Had to milk ours at home." His pay? Twenty-five cents a day and dinner.
Cobb's full-blooded Irish grandfather and father, both named Hugh, emigrated to the United States from Scotland, where they worked as coal miners, around the turn of century. First to Pennsylvania, then Illinois, then to Rich Hill, Missouri.
Union organizers, they left Rich Hill when they brought in African-American miners to break the strike. "The McManuses and the O'Haras loaded their kids, their pots and pans, their furniture and their cow into a box car and came by rail to Weir City." But the same thing happened in Weir City so they jacked up their house, put it on a trailer and used a big thrashing machine to pull it over to Wright street in Frontenac. There it's stayed ever since.
When the mines were down in southeast Kansas, his dad and uncle Owen would go to work in Montana. Which is where his dad met and married Josephine Gerlack, with whom he had five children. Cobb, the second, was born in Carpenter Creek, Montana on March 4, 1917 and came to Frontenac when he was three.
After high school and the CCC camps, Cobb took off for Westwood, California where he worked in a venetian blind factory. Until his labor heritage caught up with him that is. "I was a union man see. They started a company union. I couldn't go along with that and so got involved with organizing the A.F. of L.C.I. O. One day I was headed down to the picket line and and they put the hoses on us, surrounded us with with guns and clubs. They escorted us to the train and told us to get on the next one that came through. We caught a freight to Keddie, California first. Then I hoboed it back to Frontenac."
All of which was second nature to a man who's father was treasurer for the union local in Frontenac and remembers UMW District 14 legend, Alex Howat, coming to visit when he was a boy. He also remembers how the political patronage system worked. "When the Democrats were in office, my grandpa was postmaster. When the Republicans were in office, it was Friskel."
After WW II, in which he served in the quartermaster division, he tried his hand in businesses. One was a place called the Club Royal, which he and Bert Lispi owned in Frontenac. A bar where Frontenac's most colorful Irishman, Michael J. Cassidy, would frequently hold court. "People would come in and buy him a drink just to hear him tell stories. He was a funny, lovable guy. I remember one day as I reached into my pocket for the key to open the bar, he said to me, "Say scout. Since you've got your hand in your pocket there, could you give me a temporary loan of a quarter? ... and, scout, while you've got your hand in there ... you might as well make it a half."
After visiting in his kitchen awhile, Cobb took me for a tour in his pickup, first pointing out various coal mines west of town -- the Jones, Davis, Wilson and Lavery diggings -- then crisscrossing the west end pointing out homes and telling stories about the past residents of what once was known as Irish Hill.
Back in his driveway, he sat in his pickup and reflected on his life. "As far as growin up in Frontenac goes, we didn't have much money. My dad was a coal miner, went down in the mines when he was nine years old, but he wasn't dumb. My mother was a good cook, took care of us, took in washing. We grew up in a good Catholic family. Went to church. We done what my dad said ... mostly.
"I got my union steamfitters card and worked Illinois, Michigan, Missouri, Iowa and Kansas for years. After that, I moved back, bought out Joe Doti and started the O'Hara's Recreation. Later on I got into politics a little -- served as mayor of Frontenac. I didn't get married 'till I was 44 you know. I'm lucky I found Erma, she's a good woman."
Speaking of Erma -- the former Erma Vandelli, a coal miner's daughter from South Radley -- she pretty much gave me the skinny on Cobb out in their driveway before I'd asked him even one question.
"He's Catholic," she said. "He's Irish. And he's a Democrat."³

Owen Louis O'Hara died on 8 March 2008 at Mount Carmel Regional Medical Center, Pittsburg, Crawford County, Kansas, at age 91.⁴

An obituary was in the Pittsburg Morning Sun: Owen Louis

Owen Louis "Cobb" O'Hara, 91 of Frontenac, died at 8:12 p.m. Saturday March 8, 2008 at the Mount Carmel Regional Medical Center in Pittsburg, KS.

He was born March 4, 1917 in Carpenter Creek, MT the son of Hugh P. and Josephine (Gerlach) O'Hara. He and his family moved to Frontenac at the age of 4. He attended Sacred Heart Catholic Schools and was a 1935 graduate of Frontenac High School. After High School Cobb joined the CCC camps at Farlington, KS, where he worked for nearly 2 years. Cobb moved to California in 1937 and started working at the Red River Lumber Company in Westwood, CA. He moved to Berkley in 1940 and worked for California Corrugated Iron.

Cobb enlisted in the Army in 1942, was in the invasion of Casablanca, went to Africa, from there to Sicily for 3 months and then Italy for 2 years. He spent over 35 months overseas and was in the Army for nearly 4 years. During the Korean War Cobb did 11 months at Ft. Riley and Ft. Leonardwood, then to Harrinsburg, PA from 1950-51.

After his time in the military Cobb opened a beer joint called the 160 Club. He sold that business and then went back into business with the Club Royal in Frontenac. After his time with the military during the Korean War Cobb came back to Frontenac and received his steamfitters card and started working. He traveled around the 4states area, Illinois and Detroit. He worked on the missile bases in Wichita doing wet and dry tests on missiles.

Cobb bought Doti's pool hall, then decided to purchase the building across the street-O'Hara's Recreation, he moved the business across the street in 1962 it operated for about 15 years. He Bought the Home Tea Company in 1950, it was ran by Cobb's brother-in-law Art Falletti, it remained opened until 1954. Cobb was also the business agent for the pipe fitters for 10 years.

He married Erma Vandelli on May 29, 1960 at the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Frontenac, KS; she preceded him in death on June 9, 2006.

Cobb was a member of the Sacred Heart Catholic Church, the Sacred Heart Knights of Columbus, Frontenac American Legion, Pittsburg VFW, Pittsburg Elks Lodge, the Frontenac Rotary Club and was past Frontenac Mayor for 10 years. He attended the Democratic National Convention once in 1980 and again in 1984.

Survivors include a sister Bonnie Falletti of Frontenac, KS; daughter-in-law Georgene Survil of Colorado Springs, CO; 3 Grandchildren Cindy Wenzel of Colorado Springs, CO, Joe Castelli of Northville, MI, Missy Gallegos of Woodinville, WA; 8 Great-grandchildren and several nieces and nephews. He was preceded in death by his parents, step-son Retired Col. Joseph Gene Castelli; a brother James O'Hara and 2 sisters Margie Krainz and Patricia Benelli.

Memorial Mass of Christian Burial will be 10 a.m. March 28th 2008 at the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Frontenac with Father Robert McElwee as celebrant. Inurnment of cremains will follow in the Mount Carmel Cemetery. The parish rosary will be recited at 6 p.m. Thursday March 27th at Friskel Funeral Home where the family will receive friends following until 8 p.m. Condolences can be sent to www.friskelfuneralhome.com Memorial contributions can be to the Sacred Heart Catholic Church Museum or to a Scholarship set up in Cobb's name at the Frontenac High School. Memorials may be brought by or mailed to the Friskel Funeral Home 230 E. McKay Frontenac, KS 66763.⁵

Memorial Mass of Christian Burial will be 10 a.m. March 28th 2008 at the Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Frontenac with Father Robert McElwee as celebrant. Inurnment of cremains will follow in the Mount Carmel Cemetery.⁶

TRUE STORIES
Small-town funeral

By Jt Knoll | SPECIAL TO THE MORNING SUN

I went over to Sacred Heart Church in the Republic of Frontenac last Friday to join with friends, family and parishioners in what Father McElwee described as "giving Cobb back to God" in the church where Father said he'd seen Cobb (in his same spot in the same pew at the back of the church) at every funeral Mass he'd conducted there except maybe two or three.

It was a perfect March day for a funeral; cold, gray and blustery, which made the warmth inside the church all the more inviting. After visiting a little with family members at the rear of the church, I genuflected, knelt to say a prayer, sat back and had flashbacks of my boyhood as I drank in the simple beauty of the wooden pews, small altar, and icons showing Jesus with his sacred heart of "true God and true man" exposed.

I also remembered how Cobb always went to communion up the center aisle with his hands gently folded at a perfect 45-degree angle. Recalled his face, beatific as an altar boy's, below his middle-parted hair as he returned down the side aisle to his pew.

McElwee's reflections on Owen ‘Cobb' O'Hara were right on the money: both true to his many facets (from operating the town's pool hall to serving as mayor) and the nuances of his character (his frugality is town legend). Anyone who knew Cobb O'Hara knew that he was nothing if not a character.

The central theme of McElwee's remarks was that Cobb lived in Frontenac and Frontenac lived in him. That he was an effusive and enthusiastic storyteller who jumped at the chance to share any tale, whether it be about a certain family, what once stood on an empty lot, or what coal mine once operated at a certain spot.

In short, Cobb was connected. Connected to the town. Connected to the church. Connected to the people. Many times his connections came, McElwee smiled — calling to mind his Irish heritage — in the form of brassy arguments, but they were connections nonetheless.

McElwee said he was like the narrator, the "Stage Manager," in Thornton Wilder's "Our Town," a play that details the interactions between citizens of an everyday town in the early 20th century through their daily lives. Cobb, like the narrator, moved the story along and helped to weave it all together.

After Mass, Cobb's granddaughter Cindy, with the help of her niece, shared memories of him using special keepsakes he saved over the years as symbols for his life; his high school class ring, army dog tags, a medal with an image of the pope on one side and John and Robert Kennedy on the other, his wedding band, and his retirement pocket watch. Each memento held a story, a symbolic representation of not only his life but the human experience of 91 years.

And it wasn't that Cobb only told a good story, he loved to hear one or see one told in a production. Years ago, when I directed "The Miners Hall Opera House" at the Frontenac Homecoming, he'd watch the very same show twice each night. Every time my wife, Linda, produced her play, "Army of Amazons, An Oral History of Southeast Kansas," the story of the 1921 march of immigrant women in support of striking miners, he was there half an hour early so he could get a front row seat.

People like Cobb don't live just in Frontenac, the live in every small town. Look around and you'll see the connectors, the stage managers in your midst. Take some time to listen to them. Better yet, record them so their stories can be archived and enjoyed in the future.

In the final act of "Our Town," which is set in the graveyard, there is a scene in which, Emily, a young woman who has died in childbirth, is given permission to leave her grave and revisit the day of her twelfth birthday. She is initially overwhelmed with joy but quickly succumbs to tears when she realizes how much she took for granted when she was alive and how quickly life speeds by.

Emily says, "We don't even have time to look at one another." After one last glance at Grover's Corners and being alive, she tells the Stage Manager she is ready to go back to the graveyard. She asks, "Doesn't anyone ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute?" The Stage Manager responds, "No?.saints and poets, maybe; they do some."

After Mass, I followed the hearse east out of town to the cemetery reflecting on the play and how, in the end, it addresses life's ongoing cycle with the dead speaking to how minuscule human life is, especially when comparing it with the millions of years it takes for the light of stars to travel to earth.

"Our Town" closes with the Stage Manager making a few comments about how tomorrow is a new day — the implication being that we, the audience, the living, should live every minute.

Cobb's funeral closed with prayers by Fr. McElwee, the presentation of a flag to his family by the American Legion, and the playing of taps. As I walked back to my car, past the graves of former residents of my hometown, I swear I heard them whispering in the cold, gusty wind.

J.T. Knoll is a writer, speaker and prevention and wellness coordinator at Pittsburg State University. He also operates Knoll Training, Consulting & Counseling Services in Pittsburg. He can be reached at 231-1852 or jtknoll@swbell.net.⁷