Ken Allebach obituary

Kenneth Allebach, Urban Planner

Kenneth Allebach, 85, died at Medford Leas, Medford, NJ on June 9, 2005.

Born in Souderton, Pennsylvania on July 24, 1919, he graduated from Swarthmore College in 1947.  Previous to that, during World War II, he served for 4 years with the Eighth Air Force in England, (390^th Bomb Group), completing 28 missions over occupied Europe and won the Distinguished Flying Cross as a B-17 navigator.

Mr. Allebach worked for the Travelers Insurance Co., before joining The Philadelphia Housing Authority; later he joined the HHFA (now HUD), both in Philadelphia and Washington, DC.

In 1960 he became the Executive Director of the White Plains, NY Urban Renewal Agency in Westchester County, New York.  Here he ran one of the nation’s largest downtown clearance and renewal programs.

In 1977 he joined the Albert Appraisal Company, Ossining, NY,  as Vice-President.

In retirement, he moved to University City in Philadelphia;  to Tucson, AZ and to Medford Leas Retirement Community in Medford, NJ.

Mr. Allebach was proud of his Pennsylvania-Dutch heritage.  His Swiss ancestors originally settled in Germantown, PA, in 1685. Later, in the early 1700's, others settled in Montgomery County, Pa.

Coming from a musical family, he was involved in choral singing throughout his life and sang, among others, with the Philadelphia Orchestra Chorus and the Westchester County Choral Society, in White Plains, NY.

He is survived by his wife, Doris J. Allebach of Medford, NJ and son, Frederick C. Allebach, of White River Junction, Vermont and sisters, Arlene Schatz, Margaret Groff, Florence Momme and brothers, Charles and Earl. 

A TRIBUTE TO KEN                   June 18, 2005

 (At memorial service for Kenneth Allebach, at Medford Leas, Medford, NJ, by his cousin Bob Hunsicker.  He and Ken were two of the 52 grandchildren of Nari Hunsicker and his wife, Marcella Roth Hunsicker.)

I’ll begin by saying that there are many persons here this afternoon who knew Ken much better than I did.  I must say, though, that I thoroughly enjoyed the several times we were  together over the years.  I think especially of a wonderful Saturday excursion to the Mennonite Meeting House on Germantown Avenue in Philadelphia. I remember also of the time we spent in Skippack in Central Montgomery County where many of our early Mennonite ancestors settled.

I’m quite certain I speak to others of you when I say that we all appreciated his brilliant wit and keen intelligence.

Ken was the second of the eight children of Charles Allebach and his wife, Jennie Hunsicker Allebach.  Two of his brothers died as infants.  Three of his sisters and two of his brothers are with us this afternoon.  I remember very well my visits at the Allebach homestead on Fifth Street in Souderton.

Doris mentioned in an e-mail I received from her this week that Ken was always proud of the fact that he was a Pennsylvania Dutchman.  That’s true for others of us as well.  Of course we Pennsylvania Dutch men and women are not Dutch at all.  We’re Pennsylvania Germans.  To be more precise, most of us are Pennsylvania Swiss.  The origins of the Allebach and Hunsicker families and most of the other Mennonites who settled in eastern Pennsylvania in the early decades of the 1700s lie in what at the time was the Canton of Bern in Switzerland.  Ken’s immigrant ancestors, Christian Allebach and Valentine Hunsicker and their wives, were part of that wave of immigration that brought their families from Switzerland to the Palatinate and then up the Rhine River through the port of Rotterdam to Penn’s colony, at a time when the wilderness was still being cleared.  Valentine settled eventually in Skippack and Christian Allebach arrived a year later and settled in nearby Salford.

It’s very fitting that our service today should be in the tradition of the Quakers since it was William Penn, the early Quaker leader and founder of the colony that bore his name, who made it possible for our ancestors to establish their lives here in the new world.

I join with you this afternoon in thanking God for Ken’s life and for all that he meant to those who loved him.  We thank God for his distinguished and courageous service to his country.  And we thank God that for him all sickness and suffering and sorrow are past and he has now entered into the rest that remains for God’s people.

I’ll conclude with the words of one Flavius, words that I came upon years ago: Some people come into our lives quickly and go - - some stay for a while - - leave footprints on our hearts - - and our lives are never again the same.  Ken has left his footprints on the hearts of all of us and because we knew him,  our lives will never again be the same. (Bob led us in The Lord’s Prayer.)

Fred Allebach Memorial Service notes

Gorgas Lane

Clinton St

42 Harvard Ct

4623 Cedar Ave

9061 East Seneca

198 Medford Leas

As a child I remember Dad as the most handsome, strongest, greatest man in the world

He was MY DAD, he played catch, basketball, he was always a good father to me

Taught me to body surf, racing me on the beach, racing me on the way to school

Coming home from work, bouncing a kick ball inside a paper bag, Hi Ace, Hi Buddy!

Mom and dad playing music, recorder and piano, Dad singing along with records to learn his chorus lines

We played recorder together, Miss Dawson’s Hornpipe

Dad imparted to me a real appreciation of music, to listen, to play, to sing

He was a perfectionist and he mastered many things yet he was not perfect himself, he wanted to put in a good showing for himself--- he was deeply thoughtful and interested

One time he wondered to me, he said “all my relatives could be at the North Star

Out of his window in Tucson he could see the North Star, from his bed

-       he wondered about large questions yet he knew he couldn’t know

-       and he wouldn’t believe that which he couldn’t know

His thoughts cast a big net, he knew as much as anybody yet he was humble and self effacing, I was amazed by and respected the level of his self education, he knew a lot

Dad helped me to continually refine my expressive abilities without telling me what to think

Many times he ironed my clothes before a trip, he showed his care and love in concrete ways—his love for me was abiding and accepting

He wanted the best for me, for me to do well, and while I may not have made the material achievements he desired, I know he respected the human being I became

-He lives on in me, in blood and spirit, in interest and curiosity

I inherited from Dad a tendency to get in trouble, not from any ill intentions, the world just didn’t understand us sometimes

We continued to play music, recorder and guitar, our old favorite songs

-Russian Lullaby

-I came to an appreciation of Baroque music while we were in Tucson

-we got to see a Messiah together there

In Tucson dad had a bit of a resurrection of his Spanish from Kutztown when he was a young man

-Mexicans in the park, Roberto

-curious about the pronunciation and grammar

390^th Bomb group museum   Democrats and Republicans

I saw Dad take them all on at lunch

They respected him because Dad’s opinions were well-considered, not one liners and sound bites

A little learning is a dang’rous thing;

Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring.

There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain,

And drinking largely sobers us again.

Alexander Pope                    

Dad was unfailingly loyal to his family, he longed for Souderton after finding a life away in Philadelphia and New York

-the world opened to him but he never forgot his roots

-his life saw great changes and he couldn’t go back to the way it was

Thanks to Mom for taking good care of him so he did live as long as he did, all those dirty looks at low-fat dinners

In the hospital: clock ticking, machines, technology

-excruciating passage of time

-wind blowing, leaves, an immediate sense, a heightened senses as I walked in Dad’s footsteps here at Medford Leas, in my grandparent’s footsteps.

I knew he was near the end

 “In the end human thought accomplishes so little. It’s wings are strong, but not as strong as the destiny which gave them to us. It will not let us escape nor reach any further than it desires. Our journey is predestined and, after a brief roaming which fills us with joy and expectation, we are drawn back again as the falcon is drawn back by the leash in the hand of the falconer. When shall we attain liberty? When will the leash be severed and the falcon soar into the open spaces?

-When? Will it ever be? Or is it not the secret of our being that we are and always will be bound to the hand of the falconer? If this were changed then we would cease to be human beings and our fate would not longer be that of humanity. The Dwarf,  Par Lagerkvist, 1945, p.53

In the last few weeks Dad said to me “you’re my buddy”, I said “I’ll always be your buddy Dad”

When I left him for the last time I said “goodbye Dad” and he said “goodbye Fred, machs goot”

A memorial service will be held at Medford Leas, Medford, New Jersey on Saturday , June 18^th at 2 p.m.

Memorial donations may be made to:

 The Mennonite Heritage Center

 PO Box 82

 Harleysville, PA 19438

7/23/05

Macbeth  Act 1 SC. Line 1

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Act 1. SC.1

Helena 232

Sonnet 59

If there be nothing new, but that which is

Hath been before, how are our brains beguiled,

Which, laboring for invention, bear amiss

The second burden of a former child!

Oh that record could with a backward look,

Even of five hundred courses of the sun,

Show me your image in some antique book,

Since mind at first in character was done:

That I might see what the old world could say

To this composed wonder of your frame;

Whether we are mended, or whe’er better they,

Or whether revolution be the same.

  Oh, sure I am the wits of former days

  To subjects worse have given admiring praise.

 

Sonnet 12

When I do count the clock that tells the time

And see the brave day sunk in hideous night,

When I behold the violet past prime

And sable curls all silvered o’er with white,

When lofty trees I see barren of leaves,

Which erst from heat did canopy the herd,

And summer’s green, all girded up in sheaves,

Borne on bier with white and bristly beard;

Then of thy beauty do I question make

That thou among the wastes of Time must go,

Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake

And die as fast as they see others grow;

  And nothing’gainst Tim’es scythe can make defense

  Save breed, to brave him when he takes thee hence.

Ecclesiastes 3

For everything its season, and for every activity under heaven its

time:

a time to be born and a time to die;

a time to plant and a time to uproot;

a time to kill and a time to heal;

a time to pull down and a time to build up;

a time to weep and a time to laugh;

a time for mourning and a time for dancing;

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them;

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;

a time to seek and a time to lose;

a time to keep and a time to throw away;

a time to tear and a time to mend;

a time for silence and a time for speech;

a time for live and a time for hate;

a time for war and a time for peace.

Psalm 102  (marked by Dad)

Lord, hear my prayer

and let my cry for help reach thee.

Hide not thy face from me

when I am in distress.

Listen to my prayer

and, when I call, answer me soon:

for my days vanish like smoke,

my body is burnt up as in an oven.

I am stricken, withered like grass:

I cannot find the strength to eat.

Wasted away, I groan aloud

and my skin hangs on my bones.

I am like  a desert-owl in the wilderness,

an owl that lives among ruins.

Thin and meager, I wail in solitude,

like a bird that flutters on the roof-top.

My enemies insult me all the day long:

mad with rage, they conspire against me.

I have eaten ashes for bread

and mingled tears with my drink.

  In thy wrath and fury

  thou hast taken me up and flung me aside.

My days decline as the shadows lengthen,

and like grass I wither away.

I spread Dad’s ashes on the grave of his parents in Leidy’s cemetery, Souderton, PA

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Act 2  Scene 1   line 1 

Robin

  How now, spirit? Whither wander you?

Fairy

  Over hill, over dale,

    Thorough bush, thorough brier,

  Over park, over pale,

    Thorough flood, thorough fire;

  I do wander everywhere,

  Swifter than the moon’s sphere.

  And I serve the Fairy Queen,

  To dew her orbs upon the green.

  The cowslips tall her pensioners be;

  In their gold coats spots you see;

  Those be rubies, fairy favors;

  In those freckles live their savors.

I must go seek some dewdrops here

And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.

Farewell, thou lob of spirits. I’ll be gone

Our queen and all her elves come here anon.

7/24/05

We go to Quaker Meeting in Medford, NJ and Kim speaks of Dad,

“In memory of Kenneth Allebach, if man’s life is in vain, his love is in glory”

and also John B., an associate of Dad's said at Meeting:

“The jewel is in the lotus”

12/8/07

I walked over to where my dad fell down, marking the beginning of the end for him.

I walked by my parent’s old apartment and then out to the parking lot where I remember dad came out and waved goodbye the last time I saw him normal. I reflected on how time has passed. Those places where the memories unfolded, the space where dad was, he’s gone and the space remains, a smile upon empty space. Time has gone by and the place seems empty, the place itself holds nothing, there’s no one there, however the feelings are alive and live in my heart, gone but not forgotten. Yet to the space, past events are forgotten; the space is impersonal, mute, quiet, bearing witness but giving no testimony. Then walking back by the road I saw the guy who found dad after he fell. Strange, that this guy would appear on my walk to see where dad met his end, to see the old apartment, to see the halls where he and my grandparents walked but walk no more. And me, vital, not in the last throws, still with mountains to climb, at the apex of this moment, looking back, looking forward, to the essence of being alive, the now.

FCA