The Litzenberger Family of St. John’s Lutheran Church
A Short Story
By Wally Ely
For St. John’s 150 Anniversary
June 2005
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Families come and go during the lifetime of a church. I grew up
knowing a family that should never be forgotten at St. John’s Lutheran
Church in Allentown, Pennsylvania. Actually, it won’t be forgotten, unless
the church needs to move the memorial pews around one more time!
On a pew end in the balcony above the new Stenger Gathering Place
(the old Narthex), you can find engraved into the wood the name “Anna
Litzenberger.” The Anna and Wilson Litzenberger family purchased the
pew near the rear of the main sanctuary during the 1930’s construction
campaign before the new church building was opened in 1938. This long
mahogany pew was removed to the balcony during construction and
expansion of the new Narthex in 2003. Other memorial engravings and
dedications may be seen on the walls, the pillars, and other woodwork
around the sanctuary.
The event that inspired me to write about the Litzenberger family was
the death of the Anna and Wilson Litzenberger’s only son, Theodore, on
Sunday, January 11, 2004. Theodore Wilson Litzenberger AIA was born
May 25, 1936. The only member of the original Litzenberger family of
Allentown still living is Ted’s sister, Phyllis Libera, of Woodbury,
Minnesota. Ted was married – and divorced - from Mae. They had two
daughters: Susan and Diane. Ted later married Andra, and acquired two
stepdaughters, Evia and Daiga. Phyllis married a son of a St. John’s family,
Robert Burkholder, but Bobby died very young. The Burkholders had one
child, Cathy. Phyllis later remarried; she is now Mrs. Thomas Libera
In the 1940’s and 1950’s, Ted’s father, Wilson Litzenberger operated
a service station in the 2000 block of Tilghman Street at Albright Avenue in
Allentown. It was called “Wilson’s Tydol.” Wilson pumped gas and
repaired automobiles in his shop along what was then Route 22 – the major
east-west route between Harrisburg and New York City in the pre-Route 22
Thruway days. There is a large office building - the 2030 Building - on that
site today. The Lehigh Valley Transit Company trolley tracks ran along
Albright Avenue next to Wilson’s business, and crossed Tilghman Street
right next to the gas station. This made for the thrill of seeing hubcaps
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shaken loose from cars as they bounced across the trolley tracks, the hubcaps
rolling across Wilson’s driveway and stopping in front of the service station.
Wilson had quite a collection of the old hubcaps. Any customer who came
in missing a hubcap, Wilson found a match in the pile, and gave it to him.
Wilson’s Dad was “Pop” – who backed up Wilson and managed the
office duties while Wilson wielded the wrenches repairing cars.
When I was a teen-ager, Wilson hired me to pump gas and wash cars
along with Ted. He even trusted me to change oil and filters in customer
cars occasionally. That exposure to automobiles gave me the groundwork
and understanding of how engines operate, and brought me into contact with
repair situations on a daily basis. Regular gas was $.149 a gallon for regular
when I worked there. Yes, fifteen cents! We checked the oil and washed
the windows with every gas purchase.
A car wash was two dollars. I learned from Ted and Wilson how to
wash a car properly. I was eager to learn, because a good wash job usually
resulted in a tip of a few coins – sometimes a quarter or more. One of our
best car wash customers also was a member of St. John’s. Frank Reisner
was an insurance man who usually had a brand new Plymouth, always red!
He was a regular customer every Saturday, and a big tipper – so we always
took the best care of him!
I remember the two neighborhood Jewish men – brothers, who
depended upon Wilson to keep their aging vehicles running. It was obvious
when one of them was around; we could hear them call out to “Meees-ter
Weeel-son.” Rarely would one find a trusting, friendly relationship like that
between a neighborhood garage man and his customers today.
When I was still only seventeen years old, Wilson made a success of
my entry into the Atlantic Mileage Marathon, a contest for young drivers to
teach driving economy. The idea was to see how far a driver could go on
one gallon of gas. Entering in my Dad’s hand-me-down gray straight-six
cylinder, standard shift, 1949 Plymouth, I asked Wilson for help setting my
spark plugs and carburetor for the best fuel efficiency. Wilson took charge.
He inserted a new set of plugs, with the gaps set to the widest setting they
would take for the largest spark. He cleaned out my carburetor jets and set
the jets to the leanest settings possible. He removed the air cleaner
completely. Finally, he pumped up my tires to seventy pounds to reduce
rolling friction. My Plymouth and I appeared at the Atlantic Gas Station on
Hamilton Street where the Mini-Mart is now, next to Yocco’s. I registered
and watched them attach a one-gallon bottle of gasoline to my engine –
directly to the fuel pump. The bottle hung off the side of the fender. I was
sent off on the one-mile route to determine how far I could drive on that one
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gallon of gas. The route was a closed loop - a closed circuit west on
Hamilton Street, north on Ott Street, and east through Cedar Parkway, then
back out onto Hamilton Street.
Following Wilson’s instructions, I kept the transmission in the highest
gear possible, didn’t step on the gas, or accelerate fast, and coasted at every
possible opportunity, including shutting off the engine for the longest
coasting opportunities. When the event was nearly over, my car was one of
two still running. I finished second, logging 24.76 miles around that loop on
my one gallon. First place went to my friend Charlie Gerhart who ran
almost thirty miles in his four-cylinder jeep. Wilson had volunteered to help
me and we almost garnered first place in my little ’49 Plymouth coupe.
At St. John’s, Wilson served terms on the Vestry, and volunteered on
the property committee. If they kept score, Wilson would have received the
Perfect Attendance Pin. Wilson’s pre-war gray 4-door Plymouth was always
parked on Fifth Street when there was a St. John ‘s church service under
way. In memory of Wilson Litzenberger, to this day there is a brass
dedication plaque attached to the sound system consol on the church
balcony, constructed in memory of this fine gentleman’s loyalty to the
congregation. That consol is now only a few feet from the memorial pew
with his wife Anna’s name engraved.
Anna Litzenberger was a true joy to be around. She was a tiny lady
with a great sense of humor and was always a lot of laughs. Anna’s family,
the Geists, came from the Longswamp area in eastern Berks County. Anna
brought her Pennsylvania Dutch cooking skills to bear with anything she
touched in her busy kitchen. Anna was a living cookbook; she could serve
family dinners with the best of them. Her legacy lives on in my memory as
the baker of the most delicious dark chocolate cake – she called it
“midnight” cake – with white icing. It was my favorite dessert of all time,
and Anna saw to it that a cake arrived to help me celebrate each birthday
well into my adult years.
Anna taught Sunday School at St. John’s for decades. She was
responsible for the dependable flow of birthday cards to congregation
members, and mailed reminders of church school events, as well as “We
missed you this week” postcards. She helped several choir directors manage
the Cantoria Choir children, at practice and at services. She was a one-lady
“Order of St. John ‘s” director – long before there was an organization by
that name. She helped guide and dress the acolyte members preparing to
light the candles and assist the pastors.
When my parents moved from Reading to Wescosville around 1940,
we acquired the Litzenbergers as neighbors, and luck came my way. My
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mother, Helen Ely, before her marriage a devout Roman Catholic, was not
actively attending any church. My father, Thomas Garfield Ely, had no
inclination toward any religion. Anna and Wilson sensed all this and asked
if my parents would like to have like little Wally go to Sunday School at
their church in Allentown with the Litzenberger children. My mother knew
a golden opportunity when it confronted her, and she agreed to send me with
the Litzenbergers to St. John’s. I eventually became confirmed at St. John’s
and have been an active member of the congregation more than sixty years.
Ultimately, after my dad passed away while my parents lived in Harrisburg,
my mother moved back to Allentown and joined St. John’s, too.
When my parents moved into the city a few years later, we resided
only one block away from St. John’s and I became very active there.
That brings me to my peers – Ted and Phyllis. Ted a year older than
me – Phyllis, several years younger. Both children ultimately became active
in youth events at St. John’s, and I became very close to Ted. We were
active in anything that came along at the church, including the Cantoria
Choir and Luther League. Ted and I were acolytes – literally every Sunday.
And at every special service. There were a few other young men who
flowed in and out of the team, but Ted and I were it most of the time during
our elementary and Junior High School years, and into high school. Phyllis
participated in most youth activities around the church.
Outside the church, Anna and Wilson convinced me to join a Cub
Scout troop with Teddy when were kids. I enjoyed this experience greatly,
but never did go on any farther into scouting as Ted did.
One year while we were both in junior high school, there was a
shortage of Sunday School teachers in the elementary level, and Mrs. Ernst,
the head of the department asked Ted and me to fill in. We ended up teamteaching Kindergarten classes into our High School years. What a challenge
for both of us, but it brought a level of early responsibility to us beyond what
we could have gotten elsewhere. And I learned how hard teaching really is!
You have to prepare!
Indirectly, Teddy cost me my first real job while we were still in
junior high school. Through some family connections, my Mom arranged to
have a summer job offered to me at Classic Photo Laboratories in
Allentown. This was just the right job for me. Although I was a lowly
entry-level employee bagging pictures as they came off the belt from the
dryer in the darkroom, it kept me in touch with the world of photography
and some of the people in that field. A career in photography was remotely
in my future. I bicycled to work every morning to the lab location in a
basement of a row home at New and Tilghman Streets in Allentown. By
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mid-summer, Ted invited me to vacation with his family at the cabin they
rented in Pike County in the Poconos along Lake Teedyuskung. I
approached my boss, Frank Bendus, and told him of this opportunity and my
desire to find a way to spend a week with Ted and his family in the
mountains. Bendus was all business, and said the right thing. He told me
that if I decide on the vacation over the job for that week, “Don’t come
back!” I enjoyed my mountain vacation and got fired as a result. What a
way to learn a lesson!
As teenagers, Ted and I were both interested in cars. Ted had the
background (from his Dad). I learned as we went along. Two really big
things happened to me due to the Ted Litzenberger inclination toward
automobiles. First, I became Ted’s helper (what they call a go-fer) - in
building his fiberglass sports car. Ted rented a garage behind a house on
North St. Elmo Street, near Tilghman Street, right behind his dad’s gas
station. There he dismantled a ’32 Ford Roadster he and his dad bought. He
discarded the original body and read up on how things were built with
fiberglass. He drew up a design for his dream car on the old chassis.
Ted built it almost single-handedly over a few months. Not having
access to molds as the professionals do, Ted made just the “A” mold part of
the process work out. He built a plaster mold, and hand sanded and
smoothed the surface without the benefit of the customary “B” mold. He
adapted parts that could be purchased in an auto parts store to finish the job.
I remember that the round taillights were from a recent-vintage Pontiac.
Truly unique was the fact that there were no doors on this sweet little yellow
car. Driver and passenger hopped over the side and bounced into the seats.
No doors? Heck, there was no top, and no windows (except the windshield.)
Sleek and slim, it looked like Ted’s creation was going a hundred miles an
hour while it was standing still!
One of my greatest thrills as a teenager was the ride Ted and I took to
Trenton to look up a young lady that Ted needed to visit. It seemed like all
eyes were on us as we cruised down Route 309, then over Route 73 and
across the Tacony-Palmyra Bridge. And they were! Stopping for a red light
brought gawkers pausing on the sidewalks, or even approaching Ted’s flashy
car and firing questions as we waited at the intersections.
Ted eventually sold the car when he needed extra finances to pay
tuition bills years later. Then, one day in the 1960’s I spotted the remains of
Ted’s priceless, one-of-a-kind, gem sitting in a field near Riegelsville with
weeds growing around and through it. Sad ending.
The second connection with cars in my life that I credit to Ted was my
activities with the Lehigh Valley Timing Association. I can still picture the
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moment. We were standing on Ted’s porch at 1330 ½ Gordon Street in
Allentown. Ted explained that he had heard of a meeting of a group of teenagers that formed a hot rod club. Ted said they actually had the idea of
running an off-street drag racing strip. Would I want to go along to a
meeting? Would I! Let’s go! With this decision began an association with
other young men interested in cars and racing. I didn’t know much about
either, but would love to learn! Ted introduced me to Dopey Duncan, a local
broadcaster, who became my mentor. Dopey was the driving force behind
the Timing Association. Dopey later actually got me a job in radio
broadcasting as a newsman. I worked for WKAP part-time, then full time
starting in 1956 and ending in 1958. I owe Ted one for that favor!
A culture of safe driving and high visibility in the community made
for a unique experience for these young men. With Dopey Duncan’s clout
in the community, the kids in the LVTA (including Ted and me) actually
operated successfully one of the first Drag Race strips on the east coast on a
runway at Convair Airport (now Queen City Airport.) one Sunday a month
for two summers. There were hundreds of entrants, and thousands of
spectators each race date. Ted designed the logo for the LVTA, a design
that is still in use today by alumni members of the old timing association. It
shows a racecar flying though a clock face.
Ted went off to Penn State, then earned a Master of Science degree in
Architecture from Columbia University and later earned a Doctor of
Philosophy, as well.
Ted submitted an entry into a contest to design a shrine at Zion
Reformed Church in Allentown. Ted’s design was chosen for first place,
and today’s Liberty Bell Shrine at the church is a testimonial to Ted and his
creativity.
Ted also designed the bookplate which appears inside the hymnals at
St. John’s Lutheran Church in Allentown – it is a line drawing sketch of the
alter, and has graced the inside covers of the hymnals for decades. Ted
wrote a book “Startling Trends of Our Generation.” by T. Wilson
Litzenberger. A copy may be found in the St. John’s library. (You can still
buy it on Amazon.com). Ted also was very proud of a project on which he
spent many years. He used the Old Testament of the Bible to trace the
lineage of Jesus back to Adam and created a gigantic genealogy chart to
display the results.
Ted’s thesis in college was developed about a need in his hometown.
The huge empty lot south of the Hamilton Street Bridge over the Jordan
Creek would be, under Ted’s design, turned into an Allentown
Transportation Center. This would accommodate passenger train service,
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local and inter-city busses, helicopter service and local taxis. Ted won an
award for his design. Unfortunately, the city never thought much of the idea
and ignored its potential. Two years before his death, Ted revisited the site
of his grand design, and learned that NOTHING had happened to that lot in
the fifty years since he proposed a useful purpose for the property. He was
aghast that the city could waste valuable center city land for decades unused.
Further, on the same trip Ted was visibly annoyed that the Jordan Creek
flows past center city and its potential is ignored. Ted could envision a parklike environment full of peace and serenity for the enjoyment of all. What he
saw was a “tent city” for the homeless along the banks, with the stream
fenced off from use by residents.
As a final affront to Ted’s visit to his old home community, Ted
learned that there is no passenger train or trolley service (light rail) in the
area. When Ted migrated to the West Coast, he made use of all these
transportation opportunities. Here in Allentown, he commented, we tear
down railroad stations or turn them into restaurants, and our local
transportation system is made up of environmentally unfriendly busses.
After Ted returned home from architectural school successes, he
learned his parents were planning to build a home on Lehigh Mountain, near
the top, overlooking Emmaus. In fact, overlooking everything else in the
Lehigh Valley as well. Ted designed and became the general contractor for
the construction of the Litzenberger’s new residence. The home was a
distinct departure from the basic homes along the Litzenbergers’ road. It
had levels, glass, two levels of outside patios and one of the greatest views
of the valley afforded anywhere. In 1962 Ted and Mae moved to Gig
Harbor, Washington. There he built his architectural business and ventured
into many offshoots, become a real entrepreneur and a highly respected
businessman.
Ted’s legacy on the West Coast lives on through the buildings he
designed. Ted was a partner in a large architectural firm. Educational,
commercial, residential and medical projects all around Western Washington
bear Ted’s stamp of creativity. His designs were frequent winners of top
awards in his industry.
Ted retired only after the appearance of a brain tumor, which required
surgery. Even while recovering from this affliction, Ted lived several years
longer than his doctors predicted. Ted even made two trips east to the
Lehigh Valley to see his old haunts, meet up with some old friends, and
revisit St. John’s and other places of importance to him in his youth. G.
Barry Kline, a member of St. John’s, hosted Ted and me for a cheese-steak
dinner at the Brass Rail during Ted’s visit.
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On January 11, 2004, Ted’s battle against the cancer that was
ravaging him came to an end as he passed away peacefully at his home. His
daughter said he had prepared for death and was “ready for it.” Ted’s
Christian faith gave him strength to deal with the inevitable.
The legacy that Anna and Wilson Litzenberger and their two children
left behind at St. John’s will be hard to match. This one of a kind family
will never be forgotten.
Author’s Note: A few weeks after this story was completed and
turned over to the St. John’s church office, June Sieger, church archivist,
stopped me on a Sunday morning and told me about one additional
memorial the Litzenbergers left at St. John’s. A pair of stained glass
windows facing north, somewhat above the main entrance to St. John’s, is
not readily visible from the sidewalk. The windows are in foyer of the
“Bride’s Room” also used as a ladies rest room. The room has this unique
nickname because brides use the foyer of the room on their wedding day
making last minute touch-ups and awaiting their cue to march down the
aisle. It has a full-length mirror. I remember my bride, Suzanne, using this
facility before our wedding June 14, 1958.
Because of this “ladies room” location, I had never seen the memorial
engraved in the stone below the window, but I’ve seen it now and it reads,
engraved in the stone: “Anna and Wilson Litzenberger.” Thank you, June,
for tipping me off to this one! And Thanks to the Anna and Wilson
Litzenberger family for providing such an outstanding legacy for the church
and the community!
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