Codger_64
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In October of 1940, after having worked for the Kastors for some eighteen years, Albert Baer left Camillus Cutlery under a cloud. Alfred Kastor and his brother Robert had worked hard to force Albert out, alas after he had acquired considerable stocks and run the company during Alfred’s illness.
Albert, downcast and understandably puzzled at the turn of events, emptied his office of papers, memorabilia and furniture, and took a taxi ride around Central Park. Over, and over, and over again, mulling his options. Having been the General Sales Manager of Camillus, he had a hard time conceiving himself answering to a boss again. He referred to this as having been “so long a lion on my own”. He made a list of his former competitors, and resolved to see if he could buy one, though he had no idea how.
This was how Albert Baer operated from the beginning. He would get it in his head to do a thing, figure out how to do it best, give it 110%, then succeed beyond his wildest dreams. At age sixteen, as he was about to graduate, DeWitt Clinton High School, class of ‘22, his Uncle Sim, the family patriarch fell suddenly ill and soon died. Albert gave up his plans for college to help support his family. His first job of any consequence was for J.L. Somers Faucet Company in Newark, N.J. selling faucets and bungs for casks.
Sound like a dead-end job? Wait a bit.
1922 was deep in the “prohibition”. On January 16, 1920, the Eighteenth Amendment went into effect prohibiting all importing, exporting, transporting, selling, and manufacturing of intoxicating liquor. One of the few exemptions ruled by the Supreme Court was for small amounts of home made wine or beer for personal consumption, and hardware stores did a land office business in barrels, wooden faucets, hygrometers, filters, and other implements of home brewing.
Albert had no assigned territory (the world was his oyster), and he would walk from store to store selling the Somers wooden faucets. An inventive young man, he soon developed a “trick”, “gag”, or “schtick” as we might call it. He would suck on a faucet and walk into the store with it stuck to his upper lip. It did get him attention, and the attention got him sales. Soon, his salesmanship had earned him, via a 5% commission, an income of about $100 a week, a large sum for a young man in 1922, and he was the chief breadwinner of the family.
Back to the Ulster story:
Albert’s list included Schrade, Dwight Devine, Ekco and Utica. He visited them all. Walter Matt, son of F. X. Matt of Utica Brewery offered him a job and he was tempted. While he was deliberating, a “poison pen” letter from Alfred Kastor had reached Walter Matt, so that deal was no longer open. This was not the case with C.D. Devine of Ulster. Mr. Devine confided that his family was considering closing the company, and after much negotiation, Albert made an appointment on the13th of December 1940, to drive up to Ellenville with his wife, Helene, and daughters Betsy and Margie. In the daughter’s words, the factory "Looked like a cellar." Albert decided without a doubt that this was what he wanted to do, if only he could come up with the money. He notified the Devines of his intent to buy before the end of the year. In mid January, he spoke with buyers including Hibbard, Spencer Bartlett, and on the 17th signed a purchase agreement with the Devines. They turned over management of the business and gave him an option to buy them out over a period of years. The Board of directors consisted of C.D. Devine, Chairman, Albert Baer, President and Treasurer, Harry Aaron, Vice President, and Henry Baer as Secretary. Also on the Board were John Devine and Albert's wife, Helene Baer.
While making an aborted effort to try to buy the assets of Remington who was getting out of the cutlery business, another cutlery decided to sell out, Landers, Frary & Clark, and Albert bought all of the steel and metals that Landers had on hand for 2 cents a pound. This was a crucial purchase because steel was in short supply as were all metals since the defense program was in full swing.
After a quick remodeling of the factory offices, some hasty repairs of the blanking presses, they began making knives with twenty-five employees. Albert’s old buyers came in soon to view his factory and place orders. More angst from the Kastors, as these were some of their major accounts. Sears and Hibbard, Spencer Bartlett being two of the largest.
Soon they had 300 employees, a union problem, and nothing to ship because they were building up work in process. The first knives they made were the Official Boy Scout knives. They also made some for W. R. Case at that time.
One lifesaver was the fact that Ulster in 1912* had been granted the license to make the Boy Scout knives with the Boy Scout Emblem on the handle. Albert later capitalized on this by putting into the government specifications the requirements of an Official Boy Scout Knife (Mil-K-818). This gave them the right to get a priority and the right to continue to produce when civillian cutlery was extremely restricted to conserve needed war metals.

1925
Codger
ETA: From Albert Baer's memoirs. Actual date of the BSA Ulster license is said today to be circa 1923.
Albert, downcast and understandably puzzled at the turn of events, emptied his office of papers, memorabilia and furniture, and took a taxi ride around Central Park. Over, and over, and over again, mulling his options. Having been the General Sales Manager of Camillus, he had a hard time conceiving himself answering to a boss again. He referred to this as having been “so long a lion on my own”. He made a list of his former competitors, and resolved to see if he could buy one, though he had no idea how.
This was how Albert Baer operated from the beginning. He would get it in his head to do a thing, figure out how to do it best, give it 110%, then succeed beyond his wildest dreams. At age sixteen, as he was about to graduate, DeWitt Clinton High School, class of ‘22, his Uncle Sim, the family patriarch fell suddenly ill and soon died. Albert gave up his plans for college to help support his family. His first job of any consequence was for J.L. Somers Faucet Company in Newark, N.J. selling faucets and bungs for casks.
Sound like a dead-end job? Wait a bit.
1922 was deep in the “prohibition”. On January 16, 1920, the Eighteenth Amendment went into effect prohibiting all importing, exporting, transporting, selling, and manufacturing of intoxicating liquor. One of the few exemptions ruled by the Supreme Court was for small amounts of home made wine or beer for personal consumption, and hardware stores did a land office business in barrels, wooden faucets, hygrometers, filters, and other implements of home brewing.
Albert had no assigned territory (the world was his oyster), and he would walk from store to store selling the Somers wooden faucets. An inventive young man, he soon developed a “trick”, “gag”, or “schtick” as we might call it. He would suck on a faucet and walk into the store with it stuck to his upper lip. It did get him attention, and the attention got him sales. Soon, his salesmanship had earned him, via a 5% commission, an income of about $100 a week, a large sum for a young man in 1922, and he was the chief breadwinner of the family.
Back to the Ulster story:
Albert’s list included Schrade, Dwight Devine, Ekco and Utica. He visited them all. Walter Matt, son of F. X. Matt of Utica Brewery offered him a job and he was tempted. While he was deliberating, a “poison pen” letter from Alfred Kastor had reached Walter Matt, so that deal was no longer open. This was not the case with C.D. Devine of Ulster. Mr. Devine confided that his family was considering closing the company, and after much negotiation, Albert made an appointment on the13th of December 1940, to drive up to Ellenville with his wife, Helene, and daughters Betsy and Margie. In the daughter’s words, the factory "Looked like a cellar." Albert decided without a doubt that this was what he wanted to do, if only he could come up with the money. He notified the Devines of his intent to buy before the end of the year. In mid January, he spoke with buyers including Hibbard, Spencer Bartlett, and on the 17th signed a purchase agreement with the Devines. They turned over management of the business and gave him an option to buy them out over a period of years. The Board of directors consisted of C.D. Devine, Chairman, Albert Baer, President and Treasurer, Harry Aaron, Vice President, and Henry Baer as Secretary. Also on the Board were John Devine and Albert's wife, Helene Baer.
While making an aborted effort to try to buy the assets of Remington who was getting out of the cutlery business, another cutlery decided to sell out, Landers, Frary & Clark, and Albert bought all of the steel and metals that Landers had on hand for 2 cents a pound. This was a crucial purchase because steel was in short supply as were all metals since the defense program was in full swing.
After a quick remodeling of the factory offices, some hasty repairs of the blanking presses, they began making knives with twenty-five employees. Albert’s old buyers came in soon to view his factory and place orders. More angst from the Kastors, as these were some of their major accounts. Sears and Hibbard, Spencer Bartlett being two of the largest.
Soon they had 300 employees, a union problem, and nothing to ship because they were building up work in process. The first knives they made were the Official Boy Scout knives. They also made some for W. R. Case at that time.
One lifesaver was the fact that Ulster in 1912* had been granted the license to make the Boy Scout knives with the Boy Scout Emblem on the handle. Albert later capitalized on this by putting into the government specifications the requirements of an Official Boy Scout Knife (Mil-K-818). This gave them the right to get a priority and the right to continue to produce when civillian cutlery was extremely restricted to conserve needed war metals.

1925
Codger
ETA: From Albert Baer's memoirs. Actual date of the BSA Ulster license is said today to be circa 1923.
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