City historians a hundred years ago were fond of the phrase “There were giants in those days” when talking about the local industrialists of the late nineteenth century.
Few of those giants stood taller than James K. Cullen. There’s no street named for him, no specific monument to his effort (although at one time there was a boat named after him), but his impact was profound in his day and lasts well into ours.
A native of the Walnut Hills neighborhood of Cincinnati, James Kenmore Cullen was born in 1853 and began learning the machinery trade on the Cincinnati Hamilton and Dayton Railway company. There, and later at the Big Four Railroad, his work ethic and quick learning earned him frequent promotions to foreman and draughtsman.
On June 9, 1879, age 26, he came to Hamilton to work as a foreman for the Niles Tool Works and quickly worked his way up to factory superintendent. That same year, he married Miss Addie Barnes of Cincinnati and they settled in Hamilton. To this union two children were born, William D. Cullen and Webb Cullen, the latter dying in New York City following his return from service in the first World War.
In 1886, Cullen went to Chicago to manage western business for Niles. He lived there for eight years while developing business with the Chicago railroads and earned the nickname “the prince of salesmen,” not only because of his intimate knowledge of his goods, but for his “exceptional affability, his genuine courtesy, and his ability to make close friends.” His effort there is credited with giving the Niles Tool Works its world-wide reputation.
On his return to Hamilton he became secretary, then treasurer, and in 1900 president of Niles Tool Works, replacing Robert McKinney, who as the result of a merger moved to New York to be president of the new Niles Bement Pond Co. When McKinney died in 1915, Cullen took that New York presidency, holding it until 1925 when the merger dissolved and he returned to Hamilton to finish out his career as president of the Niles Tool Works.
But even when living in Chicago or New York, Cullen considered Hamilton his home and was for 50 years “an outstanding figure in the industrial, civic and social life of Hamilton,” according to his obituary in the Hamilton Daily News.
“This was at a period in the development of the city when he was one of a group of strong and forceful men who wrought powerfully and constructively in the growth and upbuilding of Hamilton.”
The project touted as Hamilton’s first community effort, the building of the YMCA, started under Cullen’s leadership in 1910. He created a body known as “The Committee of 100” that included the city’s top industrialists, business and professional men.
In just 10 days, the Committee of 100 raised $150,000 for the building of a YMCA in Hamilton, and were on such a roll that they extended the drive for one more day to raise another $15,000 for an addition to Mercy Hospital.
The campaign was lauded as one of “the most successful ever put over anywhere,” the Daily News said, and drew the admiration of civic leaders across the country. “These campaigns resulted in awakening greater civic pride than had ever been known before and demonstrated to the community the power that existed in the cooperation of all the citizens of the community in forwarding the interests of Hamilton.”
But they weren’t finished yet. The Committee of 100 went on to create an industrial fund of $50,000 and raised $30,000 for a Salvation Army citadel.
And when the 1913 flood destroyed much of downtown Hamilton–including the under-construction YMCA building–and left the Niles Tool Works in virtual ruins, Cullen assumed leadership of flood relief with the Committee of 100 serving as his lieutenants. Cullen was instrumental in bringing the Red Cross to Hamilton at that time.
With the bridges washed away after the flood, the county commissioners had a ferry built, the first public means of crossing the river after the disaster. It was dubbed “The J.K. Cullen.”
After his departure for New York City in 1914, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen presented their home on Dayton Street to the Community Home for the Aged during the holiday season, along with a $40,000 cash gift to renovate it. The gift was kept secret until May of the following year when the property was remodeled and dedicated.
While Cullen was in New York during World War I, the remnants of the Committee continued his work in spirit by conducting five highly successful Liberty Bonds drives.
“While Mr. Cullen did much in a public way he did much more that was only known to himself and the recipients,” said the Daily News. “No worthy project ever was turned down by him. Always he was ready and willing to help, even when demands made upon him were most numerous and heavy.”
Cullen was known as a great storyteller, but his stories were always wholesome, and could recite a remarkable number of poems from memory. He was proud of his Scotch ancestry and heritage, well-versed in the history of Scotland and all of its customs.
Although he was described as “a staunch Republican” and on the board for the Republican Daily News, he never ran for office himself but would take a stump for candidates of both parties. In 1913, with the Socialist party in power in Hamilton, Cullen was the force behind the formation of “the Citizen’s ticket,” a combined effort of Democrats and Republicans to elect Charles Mason as the next mayor.
In 1927, Cullen’s wife died and his own health began to fail him as he suffered with diabetes. He continued to work, but his colleagues seemed to know that his time was short. In June, 1929, the Rentschler family organized a meeting of the the boards of three corporations Cullen was associated with as a guise for throwing a surprise party celebrating his 50th anniversary in Hamilton. The day began with a business meeting, but turned into a large luncheon at the fairgrounds and an evening celebration at the Rentschler country estate, where Cullen was presented with a large engraved silver bowl, 18 inches high and 24 inches in diameter. It said, in part, “He was a leader when leading was hard. A man who gave all that was in him.”
The following summer, his son and his family took him to a spa at Hot Springs, Virginia, hoping to improve his condition. He seemed to improve a little for a week or so, but then lay down to take a nap at 7 p.m. one evening and could not be awakened. Doctors determined he had an apoplectic stroke and he died three days later, July 31, 1930.
Even though he was a life-long Republican, the Democratic newspaper in Hamilton, The Evening Journal, also sang his praises, and even gave him a larger obituary than the Daily News.
“His vision extended beyond the horizon of his immediate surroundings, to the city in which he lived, the neighbors with whom he associated and the great human family of which he was a member,” the paper editorialized apart from the obituary. “The result was that the influence of Mr. Cullen’s life soon touched every other life in Hamilton… He was a man who’s loyalty to Hamilton was never doubted, whose greatest joy, aside from the happiness of his home life, was to see the community prosper. As his opportunities broadened he did not hesitate to use them in that public service which means for the upbuilding of a great community life, a city with a soul.”