Duane Thomas Lantz

DUANE THOMAS ‘TOM' LANTZ, 59, of RR 1, Ulster, died May 16, 1998. Born July 28, 1938 in Sayre, the son of Ellsworth and Sadie Elliott Lantz Sr., he attended the Pilgrim Holiness Church for nearly 30 years where he served on the board.
He attended the Ghent Gospel Chapel for 15 years where he served as treasurer. He retired from PennDOT in January 1996 due to poor health. Tom also ran a small farm in Ghent for 30 years. Tom enjoyed hunting and fishing.

Surviving are his wife of 39 years, Marlene J. Lantz, at home; daughter, Vivian R. Lantz of Ulster, Pa.; son and daughter-in-law, Thomas and Joyce Lantz of Waldorf, Md.; daughter and son-in-law, Vonita and Mark Chaisson of Clearwater, Fla.; son and daughter-in-law, Kenneth and Susanne Lantz of Barton, N.Y.; son, Dennis G. Lantz of Ulster, Pa.; daughter and son-in-law, Wendy and Carl Kithcart of Ulster, Pa.; seven grandchildren, Scott and Regina Lantz, Janel and Breanna Lantz, Taylor Chaisson, Logan Kithcart, Chase Gerould; brothers, Ellsworth Lantz Jr., Joseph Lantz, Nathan Lantz, Emory Lantz, Edgar Lantz and Garth Lantz; sisters, Faith Eschenburg, Norlene Hunter, Sharon Stanton, Allegra Grenier and Delphine Bidwell; many nieces, nephews, cousins and one aunt. 

Tom was predeceased by his mother in 1965, and his father in 1987; three sisters, Gwendolyn Stanton, Jewel Crystal and Hope Anna Lantz; one brother, George, and his step-mother, Geraldine Lantz.

Friends may call at the Jay L. Lowery Funeral Home, Athens Monday from 2-4 p.m. and 7-9 p.m. Funeral services will be held Tuesday at the Pilgrim Holiness Church, Sayre at 11 a.m. The rev. Gordon Kincaid, his pastor, will officiate with the Rev. Billie Bidwell assisting. Burial will be in the Tioga Point Cemetery, Athens.
–Towanda Daily Review.

Dennis: Hard working. I remember he would come home from a day of work at PennDot and work another four or five hours on the farm… doing hay, fixing equipment, working on vehicles.

I got my organization skills from him. Things are all over the place. But he knew where he left them… if they weren’t there it was usually because one of us kids had moved them. That frustrated him.

I remember deer hunting season… that is when I learned that he had diminished hearing. I walked up on him a couple of times and he didn’t hear me. I’m not saying he was a bad hunter, but there were times I think he was just enjoying being out in the woods. He generally knew where the deer were going to go when they were driven and instructed me where to walk when I was a ‘driver.’ 

He taught me to drive. The first time was in the hay field with the old 1960’s Chevy truck. “Get in and go slow.” I might have been nine. I wasn’t precocious in that way. He did let me know when I pushed the gas too much. I think Ken showed me how to drive on the road, but I had a bit of experience with tractors and trucks in the field because of my dad.

I remember going to auctions with him. Sometimes he bought a lot of junk equipment that he fixed up and made work. All of us boys are partial to auctions… (I keep mine in check more than the others, but the longing is there.) 

He took us salmon fishing many times. Ken got that bug more than I did. I remember one time a lady stopped and asked for directions. She flirted with him and that surprised me. I don’t think he noticed, but I can’t be sure.

He sawed a lot of firewood. Just about once a week it seemed he would hook up a battered wagon (they all were battered) to one of the beat up tractors (they were all nearly as old as he was) and head for the woods. Sometimes I went along. I am certain I did more daydreaming and roaming about than loading wood into the wagon.

He used to take his rifle with him when he went to work for PennDot. I am certain you can’t do that anymore. I don’t know if he ever saw anything or attempted a shot, but he took it with him often. Of course in those days, people were reasonable. I recall shotguns being left on the school bus so that a kid could get off the bus down the road and hunt on the way home. Ken probably did that. I didn’t. Can you imagine the calamity that would occur if that were tried today? 

He liked to read newspapers. I don’t think he went past eighth grade, but he was an avid reader. We didn’t have a television, but Uncle Duane (Hunter) would send boxes of newspapers to us and my dad would read them all. Aunt Norlene and others would come every Sunday between church and they would sit and drink coffee and talk. Some of those memories are what inspired me to initiate this blog. I remember Aunt Lura (Cole), Doris Canfield, Aunt Faith. We kids would go outside and the adults would hang out.

He bought a saw mill and I helped him use it. The plan was to cut up enough lumber to build an addition on the house. We cut the beams and ended up buying the rest because his health was deteriorating. He bought the backhoe to use in that endeavor and he taught me how to run it. The memories of that mill led me to buy one of my own years later. It isn’t used enough, but that has nothing to do with him.

Tom, Marlene and family helped build the Ghent Gospel Chapel. They weren’t original members, but were pretty close. For a time, Aunt Allegra, Grandpa and Grandma Lantz and Uncle Elzy held meetings with the Sensenigs. Some meetings were at the Sensenig house and others were in North Rome at Grandpa Lantz’s. This continued after we started going. Others may have attended. I can’t remember, but soon after it was decided that a church would be built on the Sensenig farm. We dug and got rocks from a nearby hedgerow to put down for a concrete pad. We went to this church for several years before there was a falling out between certain members. My parents were not flexible in their fundamental Christian beliefs. Later they eased some of their social beliefs, but their interpretation of the Bible remained constant.

He liked lemon meringue pie. 

I remember he knocked part of an addition off the house… an old porch, I believe, though someone can let me know if this is true. Part of it fell on the tractor and luckily he was uninjured.

He tipped a lawnmower on top of himself on the small bank between the house and the pond. It was a nice summer evening and I was staying in the trailer up the road. I walked down to the house and noticed a large part of the family standing on the edge of the driveway talking. I joined them and they seemed in good spirits. I chatted for a time and then asked where dad was… that is when I was told he was lying over the bank and they were waiting for an ambulance. My observation skills weren’t sharp that day.

I remember that he did plumbing, electrical, construction and mechanical work around the house. He wasn’t good at some of it, but he did it anyway. He would often use old materials that he had collected at an auction or salvaged from some other structure. Everything generally worked for a time. I remember him tinkering on balers, tractors, the water pump, three-way light switches, the wood stove and practically everything we had. 

He let me steer Grandpa Lantz’s earthmover down through our field to the creek. Seems like I was four or five.  

Discipline was usually mom’s domain, but every once in a while we would be told to wait until dad got home. I am not part of the non-corporal punishment crowd. Most of the blows, whether with a belt or the hand, consisted of a couple quick whacks on the butt that really didn’t hurt. Once he chased me into the basement because I wouldn’t listen or stop running away. Mom wasn’t afraid to put soap in our mouths. She told the story that dad got mad at her once because she put dish soap in my mouth instead of a bar and he thought I was  going to choke. I don’t remember the incident and more often than not it was a threat and not an actual punishment.