When Conn opened a branch in NYC

The September 1, 1906 edition of the New York Tribune

Having recently been given a Conn tuba built in 1899, with both "Elkhart" and "New York" engraved on the bell, I decided to see what I could learn about the years when Conn had a branch store in New York City. I first became aware of this period a few years ago, when I read Margaret Downie Banks' 1994 work, Elkhart's Brass Roots, where she revealed that Conn

put his efforts into establishing a retail store in New York City (October 1897) for the sale of his Wonder line of instruments, as well as his inventory of fine violins. Instruments sold at this outlet bore both the Elkhart and New York designations [on the bell] for about eight years. However, following a relocation of the store in 1905, this practice was discontinued (pp. 2-3).

That explained where my tuba was originally purchased, 123 years ago! But I was eager to learn more about Conn's New York establishment, and found that the digital library of The Music Trade Review provided lots of help.

1897-1899: 23 East Fourteenth Street

Here's the earliest mention I could find, from the July 10, 1897 edition:

It appears that this new eastern headquarters opened the first week of November, "without any set ceremonies or formalities," according to the November 6, 1897 edition:

This "new emporium," which was managed by C. S. Palmer, who had been with Conn for 20 years, quickly became "the Mecca for all musical pilgrims to the Greater New York," as the December 11, 1897 edition declared. That edition also provided a detailed description of the warerooms, which included, in the front window at that time, "a monster brass Helicon with a forty inch bell and weighing sixty-three pounds." This huge horn served to attract the attention of Christmas shoppers!

The following Spring the warerooms were declared "a model of judicious arrangement and good taste," and it was revealed that Palmer was assisted by W. Paris Chambers, "the famous Conn cornet soloist, also well-known as a talented composer, and bandmaster" (April 2, 1898 edition). 

(Photo from the March 23, 1901 edition)

That same edition also provided the following photos of Conn's new establishment at 23 East Fourteenth street:

Exterior of the Conn building with the large display window

One of the display cases inside the building

C. G. Conn's private office area (Conn is standing on the left, leaning against the desk)

By early September, it was reported that "The members of Sousa's great concert band have been frequent visitors equipping themselves with instruments for their fall tour, upon which they left this week" (September 10, 1898 edition). Traveling with the band at that time was Conn's first Sousaphone.

And, according to the November 12, 1898 edition, the success of Conn's New York branch brought to an end his business in Worcester, MA, near Boston, which had been established over a decade earlier (late 1886):

After a full year of business that was described as both "brisk" and "tremendous," the December 10, 1898 edition playfully noted that the ongoing success of Conn hadn't gone to his head:

While Conn toyed with the idea of adding a small factory above the present warerooms, he instead moved his burgeoning business to a new location, just down the street, the following June (reported in the June 10, 1899 edition):

1899-1902: 34 East Fourteenth Street

Now there was lots of room to expand - all the way up to five stories, in what the October 14, 1899 edition referred to as "Conn's Musical Palace"!

And here is one of the instrument cases inside the new facility, featuring Conn's outstanding tubas where they could be examined more closely:

At this point in his career, Conn was riding high, as noted in that same edition:

But The Review had already celebrated Conn's success four months earlier, by placing him on the cover of the June 3, 1899 edition:

The following year, it was reported that "The members of Sousa's Band, since their return from Europe, are showing in many ways their appreciation of Conn merit and enterprise. The Conn warerooms have practically become their rendezvous. Their visits at the Fourteenth street establishment are frequent" (September 22, 1900 edition).

Three months later, Chambers took on a greater role as Conn's representative in New York City (replacing Palmer?), as reported in the December 15, 1900 edition:

But this relationship only lasted fifteen months. In the March 8, 1902 edition, Conn briefly explained that "The agency for the sale of the 'Wonder,' Conn-queror and American model instruments at 34 East Fourteenth street, New York City, has been discontinued."

And then Conn gave his reason: "I have concentrated my business interests at Elkhart, Ind., where the needs of my patrons will receive personal supervision. All correspondence and orders should in future be addressed to me at Elkhart, Ind., where they will receive the most careful and prompt attention."

Conn continued to advertise in The Review, but now he directed them to Elkhart, rather than his New York warerooms, which were no more. Here's one example, from the September 17, 1904 edition:

But by mid-1905, after a three-year hiatus, Conn was ready to revive his New York Branch.

1905-1909: 46 West 28th Street

Note the typo, 48, in the notice above; it was in fact 46 West 28th street, as confirmed by all subsequent notices, such as this one, from the November 25, 1905 edition:

Boyer, who eventually became Conn's "right-hand man," and helped lead the company after Conn retired, was both a gifted musician and a savvy businessman, as reported years later, in the January 8, 1927 edition of the Presto-Times:

And this portrait was included alongside that article:

Boyer's impact on Conn's revived New York Branch was almost immediate, as noted in the December 30, 1905 edition of The Review:

Two months later, Boyer did indeed expand his present quarters, as revealed in the February 10, 1906 edition:

The success of the establishment continued through 1909, leading Boyer to move to a larger and better location at the beginning of 1910 (as revealed in the May 28 edition, seen below).

1910-1912?: 48 West 34th Street

This prepared the branch for continued growth, as explained in the May 10, 1910 edition:

But on May 22, 1910, the Conn factory in Elkhart was destroyed by fire, and this brought about a role change for Boyer once the factory was rebuilt (and it was rebuilt remarkably quickly, by the end of the year). Here's the notice on the change in the October 29, 1910 edition:

Conn's New York Branch, under Boyer's management, continued through at least the beginning of 1911, as noted in this December 31, 1910 report on Boyer returning to NYC to see the Sousa Band off on its world tour:

However, the last reference to this establishment I could find was in the October 26, 1912 edition. You'll note that Boyer was still connected with it, although not as manager, and it was still understood to be the "Eastern representatives for Conn instruments":

How long this business continued beyond 1912 is not known at present. But the Conn company in Elkhart, of course, continued for decades, well after Conn himself sold the company and retired in 1915. Boyer helped lead it until his death in 1934.

Conn Makes a Monster Helicon Stir

In the December 11, 1897 edition of The Music Trade Review, the following front page notice appears:

What exactly was that "immense big tuba or helicon in the window" that a uniformed bandsman was "manipulating"? I'm guessing it was this, or something like this:

Here's additional information later on in that same edition of The Review (p. 27):

Notice that it says, "In the window, at present, is a monster brass Helicon with a forty inch bell and weighing sixty-three pounds." That about matches what we can see in the photo above!

And here is a photograph of the Conn facility at 23 East Fourteenth street, in NYC, about a year later. Presumably, that main front window is where the huge helicon was displayed:

The "monster brass Helicon" was one of two huge horns built by C. G. Conn in 1897, which I'm guessing served as the prelude to Conn's first Sousaphone, which was introduced to the world a month later (January 1898). You can read more about that here.

The tuba whisperer works his magic!

Ironically, about a month after Steve Dillon shipped me an 1899 C. G. Conn American Model Monster BBb Bass from his shop, gifting it to me as a surprise (click here for that story), I took it right back there to meet with his "tuba whisperer," Matt Walters, to see if we could get this vintage beast playable again.

I was able to clean and polish the instrument (click here for that story), but the valves were a mess, and various joints needed soldering, and, well, I just wanted it to sound as good as it now looked! Here are a few photos from my wonderful morning with this dear friend at Dillon Music:

While Matt allowed me to hang with him most of the morning, and consequently I got to hear much of his life story, I missed some of the work he did, as Steve and I took some time to catch up (he and I have collaborated on a number of historical tuba projects, and if you get us talking, it could go on for hours!).

Prior to my arrival, I had sent Matt a short list of what I thought could be done, at minimal cost, to get the horn playable again, but, my goodness, he went well beyond my list! After about three hours of outstanding work and life-giving conversation, he refused to let me pay him, saying that Steve wanted the work to be a gift as well. I was stunned - and gave Matt a big hug!

Here's what she looks like now - and she plays beautifully (for a 123-year-old, that is!):

Restoring the luster of my 1899 tuba

Here are are a few photos of the 1899 C. G. Conn American Model Monster BBb Bass that was graciously given to me a couple of weeks ago. To begin with, here is the transformation of the silver plating:

But let me chronicle the whole process . . . Here's how it arrived at our home, which was almost a complete surprise to me (a couple of dear friends had told me they were sending me a special gift, but I never imagined it would be a tuba!):

And yeah, there were a lot of foam pieces and tons of packing peanuts, along with miles of bubble wrap!

But here's what was inside (stand included, to my further surprise!):

While it was terribly dirty and tarnished, the engraving on the bell was incredible - including the name of the original owner, "Rev. Robert Fansler Killgore" (for his story, click here)!

Here's how the bell polished up:

But I'm getting ahead of myself again. The other notable detail on the horn, of course, was the serial number stamped on the second valve:

I first thought that 66235 put the date for the horn at 1898, but I now have the firm word of Peggy Banks, of the National Music Museum, and an expert on all things Conn, that the number places it squarely toward the end of 1899. So, 123 years old!

The first part of the cleaning and polishing process involved a thorough washing, and then a number of rounds of wiping down the silver with Tarn-X, and then rinsing the horn thoroughly, getting the finish this far:

But then I ran out of Tarn-X, as well as daylight, so the remainder of the work would have to wait. When the time and decent weather finally arrived, I continued with the Tarn-X wiping, until all of the nasty looking tarnish was gone. I then gently brushed the body with a baking soda and water paste, getting it this far:

The final step consisted of polishing the finish with a tarnish-inhibiting silver polish, and I ended up using Hagerty's, and here is the final result again:

The worst of the tarnish was in the valve cluster, which looked like this, even after I had washed the horn thoroughly:

And here it is now, minus the valves and slides, and I still need to work on them a bit:

Here's another side-by-side before-and-after shot:

And just for fun, and this was before the polishing, I placed this horn next to my long-time tuba, which is an F. Schmidt (= VMI, or B&S) 3301. It turns out that they are similar in size, with the vintage Conn being just a bit taller, but with a slightly smaller bell, and, of course, having one less valve:

Next up is seeing if I can get that old horn into reasonable playing shape. I've got an appointment with Matt Walters at Dillon Music to see what can be done - without spending too much money! Stay tuned!

The man behind my new vintage tuba

This past Saturday, FedEx delivered to my house a giant cardboard box that clearly said "TUBA" on both sides of it. I was stunned, because I hadn't ordered a tuba! But I had been tipped off a few days earlier, by a couple of dear friends of mine, that a surprise gift was on its way to me. But, come on, a tuba? Or was something else in that enormous box?!

Well, upon opening it, and after wrangling miles of bubble-wrap and a gazillion packing peanuts, here's what was inside: An American Model Monster BBb Bass built by C. G. Conn in 1899 (serial number 66235) - yes, 123 years ago, and just a year after Conn built his first Sousaphone for John Philip Sousa!

Here's a page from C. G. Conn's Truth from right around that time that features this very instrument:

Now, given the engravings on the bell (which I'll show you in just a minute), and looking at the fine print toward the bottom of the page above, this horn was built with "FINISH II - Engraved, triple silver plated," etc., and cost a whopping $120 in 1899!

And here's the fine print on either side of the illustration of the tuba, just to provide you with whole promotional story of this "Monster":

As it turns out, the specs are slightly off. While the weight is close (21 pounds), and the diameter of the bell is an inch larger (17 1/2 inches), the length is actually 35 1/2 inches - so, quite a bit taller than advertised.

And now, about those engravings on the bell - while they are not as ornate as what you see in the illustration above (that was apparently "FINISH I - Elegantly engraved," which cost an extra 10 bucks!), they are still spectacular, despite all the tarnish:

At the heart of the engraving, it reads "Made by C. G. Conn, Elkhart, Ind, [and] New York." But look toward the rim of the bell - there is a name engraved there that reads, "Rev. Robert Fansler Killgore," which is almost certainly the original owner. When I saw that, the historian in me started to geek out: "Who was that guy? I have to find out!"

[Quick side-note: Because of my email address, and Twitter handle, I am known as the "tubapastor" (that is, I am a pastor who happens to play the tuba). So how cool is it that the original owner of this vintage beauty was also a tubapastor? I suspected that my friends sent me this particular instrument because of that very fact, and I was right!]

Okay, back to the story, and the point of this blog post:

Who was Robert Fansler Killgore?

Well, to begin with, here is what he looked like in 1913, at age 53, when he was a pastor in Butte, Montana (and how about that very stylish hat?!):

The more I dug into his life story, the more fascinating it became, although by the end of my research, I found myself deeply disappointed in this fellow-pastor. But I'll allow all of that to unfold below.

The young cabinet-maker

Robert "Bob" Fansler Killgore was born on April 28, 1860, somewhere near Estillville, Virginia - probably Nickelsville. His dad was a farmer, and, at that time, Bob had four siblings, with three more to come.

In 1879, at the age of 19, he married 15-year-old Louisa "Lou" Ellen Hartsock (the same maiden name as his mother, so there might be story there), and they had a daughter, Lucy, born in 1881, and a son, David, born in 1883. The 1880 census lists Bob as "working in [a] cabinet shop" there in Scott County, Virginia.

But the marriage didn't last (he remarried in 1889, and she in 1891), and somewhere along the way Bob attended college in Tennessee, and that's when the story really picks up.

The fist-fighting lawyer

A report from 1912 revealed that Bob "was a graduate of Vanderbilt university" and that "following his collegiate work he studied law and was admitted to the bar. He practiced seven years in Florida."

I tracked him down in Pensacola, where he lived in the mid-to-late 1880s (perhaps already divorced). But he not only practiced law; he was also "a light-weight pugilist [meaning professional fighter], who trained with the great John L. and fought under the name of Smith."

"The great John L." would be John L. Sullivan, "the heavyweight champion of bare-knuckle boxing." One report boasts that Bob was "Sullivan's second [meaning sparring partner?] at the time of the Sullivan-Mitchell fight in France," which was a really big deal in March of 1888. Here's the poster from that event:

While his foray into pugilism perhaps led to the demise of his first marriage, as professional fighting was often condemned as immoral in those days, it apparently didn't deter Canadian Ada Simmons from tying the knot with Bob in 1889. The ceremony was rather abrupt, as noted in the November 23 edition of The Pensacola News:

[Another quick side note: Bob is listed here as a "carpenter," which squares with his background, but that does make me wonder whether he was still practicing law at this time - or if this is the same Robert Killgore. But he did marry a Canadian woman that year, and he was living in Pensacola at the time.]

Almost exactly two years later, the whole direction of Bob's life dramatically changed.

The reformed pugilist

John B. Culpepper, the celebrated Methodist evangelist, had come to Pensacola in November of 1891 to hold a number of revival meetings. They were supposed to happen in a big tent that was being constructed for these gatherings, but the seats weren't quite completed when they were ready to start, so the first meeting was held in the auditorium of the local Methodist Church.

At that time, Bob was "giving lessons in prize-ring gymnastics," and on the morning of Sunday, November 15, "he was passing the church on his way to give a lesson, when his attention was attracted by the immense crowd in front of the church. Stopping a moment, he was pushed into the narrow aisle left by the crowd on either side. While there, some ladies wanted to enter the church, and he was compelled to go in himself to get out of the way. While there he was converted."

But along with coming to faith in Christ, Bob felt called to be an evangelist himself, and Culpepper soon brought him on as his assistant, making good use of his gifts as a musician, and perhaps even his gifts as a personal body guard! (After all, God can use pugilistic gifts, right?!)

One report in the summer of 1893 called Bob a "zealous co-worker and able choir-leader" for Culpepper, adding that he was "a sweet-voiced singer for Christ, an evangel of God's power in music." And it mentioned that his wife traveled with him on these revival tours.

A year later, this report, from which I pulled the story of his conversion above, appeared in the January 24, 1894 edition of the St. Joseph News-Press:

The traveling evangelist

In 1893, or shortly thereafter, Bob attended the newly-founded Mendota College in Illinois, as it provided ministerial training, and by 1895, he was ready to launch out on his own as an evangelist.

He initially worked out of Macon, Georgia, as that was where Culpepper was based, but eventually settled in Bridgeport, Alabama. From that home base, he traveled for the next six years throughout portions of the South and Midwest, holding revival meetings and supporting the Women's Christian Temperance Union - often "accompanied by his musicians," which may have included a band, and, for at least one tour, featured "James W. Jones, a splendid trombonist."

This may suggest where the tuba fits into his life. He was clearly a gifted musician, and perhaps he played tuba along with his musicians at times, but I simply wasn't able to find anything to confirm such reasonable speculation. But as I said above, that beautiful bass that bears his name was built in 1899, so I'm guessing he bought it, or received it as a gift, that year.

What is clear, however, is that Bob was very successful as an evangelist. Here's one brief report from the June 17,1897 edition of The Scottsboro [AL] Citizen:

Almost exactly a year later, the success of his Chilhowee, Missouri revival meetings was hailed in the newspapers of that state, including the July 1, 1898 edition of The Sedalia Democrat:

Two weeks later it was reported that "The citizens of Chilhowee and vicinity became so infatuated with Kilgore that they offered him four lots, gratis, if he would build [a house] thereon." Bob accepted their kind offer, and proceeded to move his family from Alabama to the tiny Missouri hamlet, where he became known, for the next three years, as "The Chilhowee Evangelist."

While that was a significant change for Bob, an even bigger change would come in early 1901.

The ice-cold convert

Bob's parents were Baptist, but apparently that faith didn't take with their son. Upon his conversion under Culpepper in 1891, he embraced the Methodist faith, and he never looked back. That is, until he came to the conviction that a true follower or Jesus must be baptized by immersion as a believer - something he had never done. 

He came to this conviction in the winter of 1901, while he was conducting revival meetings in Illinois. The weather was harsh, but his resolve to be obedient to Christ was immovable. Here was the popular Methodist evangelist, braving the elements and converting to the Baptist faith of his parents. The story was so gripping, it showed up in papers throughout the Midwest, such as the February 5, 1901 edition of the Ottumwa [IA] Tri-Weekly Courier. Don't miss the chilling details (pun intended)!

The Baptist pastor-evangelist

Shortly after his ice-cold baptism, Bob became the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Olney, Illinois, where he served for three years. In 1904, he resigned to pastor the First Baptist Church of Reed City, Michigan. But by 1906, he was itching to return to the life of a traveling evangelist, without the responsibilities of shepherding a local congregation, so he became the Baptist State Evangelist for Michigan, based out of Grand Rapids.

It was during that time that the letters "D. D." (for Doctor of Divinity) began appearing after his name. Whether that degree was earned, or honorary, I can't say, but Dr. Bob seemed to rise to a new level of prominence during those years. Here's one report, from the December 19, 1907 edition of the Belding [MI] Banner:

But by 1910, Bob was eager to return to the pastorate, which he did for the First Baptist Church of Akron, Iowa, then, in 1912, the First Baptist Church of Butte, Montana, and finally, in 1915, the First Baptist Church of Oelwein, Iowa.

During these years, his wife, Ada, was revered as a Sunday school teacher, and their foster daughter (acc. to one source; I'm still trying to sort that out), May Runyan, played the pipe organ for the church. So, ministry was a family affair!

But by early 1916, at age 56, Bob was eager to move to a warmer climate, and so he moved the family to Tampa, Florida. After guest-preaching at the First Baptist Church of nearby Brooksville, that congregation called him to become their pastor, which is what he did for the next three years, until he moved the family to Crisfield, Maryland, where he took over the struggling Crisfield Baptist Temple. He turned that congregation around, and built a beautiful new building that was completed in 1922:

But here is where I learned something about Bob that made my heart sink.

The sadly-deceived preacher

His time at Crisfield would prove to be his longest pastorate (1919-1925), but during those years he became active in the Ku Klux Klan, which had been revived four years before his arrival in Maryland. Here's what History.com says about this regrettable organization:

In 1915, white Protestant nativists organized a revival of the Ku Klux Klan near Atlanta, Georgia, inspired by their romantic view of the Old South as well as Thomas Dixon’s 1905 book “The Clansman” and D.W. Griffith’s 1915 film “Birth of a Nation.” This second generation of the Klan was not only anti-Black but also took a stand against Roman Catholics, Jews, foreigners and organized labor. It was fueled by growing hostility to the surge in immigration that America experienced in the early 20th century along with fears of communist revolution akin to the Bolshevik triumph in Russia in 1917. The organization took as its symbol a burning cross and held rallies, parades and marches around the country. At its peak in the 1920s, Klan membership exceeded 4 million people nationwide.

Bob was swept up into the Klan during that peak. In 1923, as he hosted 200 klansmen at his church, it was reported that "The Rev. Killgore lauded the klan and said he was proud that he was a member." Two years later, while in Virginia, the land of his birth, he spoke to a huge crowd on "The Ku Klux Klan and What the People Should Know About Them."

Perhaps he wasn't fully bought in to the racism and hatred, as that same report said, "The speaker, Dr. Kilgore, has to a News reporter declared that if any expect a tirade of abuse hurled at any people, race or creed, they will be sadly or happily disappointed." And then the reporter concluded, "The speaker recognizes the Christ as the only criterion for the right." (For more about the Klan in the 1920s, click here.)

I wish I knew what all of that means, and how that squares with his membership in the Klan. But that's all I could find (so far). On July 28, 1928, at the age of 68, Bob passed from this life and stood before that very Christ. 

Here's his obituary, in the July 30 edition of The Baltimore Sun (where his age is incorrect):

And here is the only other photo I could find of Bob - this one from 1926, at age 66, two years before his passing:

So, there you have it - the fascinating, and ultimately disappointing, story of the man behind my new vintage tuba! Here's a simple timeline of his life and ministry career:

1860 - Born near Estillville, Virginia

1879 - Married Louisa Hartsock, with whom he had two children

188? - Divorced Louisa at some point

188? - Worked as a carpenter, lawyer, and pugilist

1889 - Married Ada Simmons (one child by birth; one foster)

1891 - Converted at revival held by evangelist John B. Culpepper

1891 - Became assistant evangelist to Culpepper, mainly as a singer

1895 - Launched his own revival ministry as a traveling evangelist

1899 - Purchased or received Conn tuba engraved with his name

1901 - Converted from the Methodist faith to the Baptist faith

1901 - Became pastor of First Baptist Church of Olney, Illinois

1904 - Became pastor of First Baptist Church of Reed City, Michigan

1906 - Became Baptist State Evangelist of Michigan

1910 - Became pastor of First Baptist Church of Akron, Iowa

1912 - Became pastor of First Baptist Church of Butte, Montana

1915 - Became pastor of First Baptist Church of Oelwein, Iowa

1916 - Became pastor of First Baptist Church of Brooksville, Florida

1919 - Became pastor of The Baptist Temple of Crisfield, Maryland

1925 - Retired from pastoral ministry

1928 - Died in Crisfield at age 68

For more photos of the tuba, including the cleaning and polishing I gave it, click here. And for photos of the work that Matt Walters did on it to restore its playability (and a bit of it's look), click here.