- Chronicles is made possible by a grant from the Erie Community Foundation, a community assets grant provided by the Erie County Gaming Revenue Authority, support from Springhill Senior Living and the generous support of Thomas B. Hagen.

- This is - WQLN.

- J. D. Rockefeller, Andrew Carnegie, Cornelius Vanderbilt...

These are all names closely associated with America's Industrial Revolution.

Were they successful?

Absolutely.

Were they wealthy?

Beyond your wildest imagination.

But they were far from being the only ones who toiled an industry and facilitated the rapid growth of the nation.

There were many, many others.

People who laid down the foundations.

Peo ple like myself.

I am B.B.

Vincent.

Looking back across the male line of my family, my great great grandfather was one of the Huguenots who fled France for England to escape persecution.

During the reign of Charles II.

Tempted by the opportunities of the new land, he immigrated to America and settled in New township, New Jersey where he died in 1763.

This is where my great-grandfather, John Vincent, was born in 1709.

At 24 years of age, he married Elizabeth Dormis, a captivating Dutch woman.

But she spoke no English...

He spoke no Dutch.

But they both spoke the language of love and had nine children together.

This included their firstborn son, Cornelius, my grandfather.

In 1772, their youngest was 18 years old, and many of the Vincent family, including Cornelius and his wife, Phoebe, relocated to Northumberland County, Pennsylvania, close to where the town of Milton sits today.

New settlers were not well received by the Native Americans during the Revolutionary War.

They grew hostile and it was necessary for them to associate for mutual protection.

The Vincents worked together with the Himrods, the Miles', the Boyds, and the Littles and others to protect themselves.

Stockade forts were built at central points.

Women and children would gather in them for safety, where the men organize themselves into companies known as minute men.

The Himrods and the Vincents would go on to form a special bond Cornelius and Phoebe had nine children of their own, but life on the frontier was perilous.

In late June, 1779, Isaac, the first born of Cornelius and Phoebe was out hoeing corn in a field with five other men.

A party of Native Americans approached stealthily and opened fire.

Isaac Vincent fell dead among the corn.

Isaac's 11-year-old brother, Benjamin, having just witnessed the murder of his eldest brother was taken prisoner.

Isaac had been gunned down at the age of 22.

Benjamin was later released and it went on to live to be 101.

Not long after this attack, 150 Native Americans accompanied by a British lieutenant and accompanied a British infantry attacked the fort.

They compelled it to capitulate with all men over 17 becoming prisoners of war - with the elderly, the women and the children being free to leave.

Cornelius, his sons, Daniel and Bethuel, along with their neighbors, were marched across the country, then lakes, to Quebec where they remained prisoners to the end of the war, four years later.

During this time, my great-grandfather John, Cornelius's wife and their children, made their way back on foot to New Jersey where they stayed among their friends until the husbands and brothers could safely return.

Soon after returning from captivity, Cornelius and Phoebe, along with their sons, Daniel and Bethuel, unperturbed by past events, made the decision to return West to resume the settlements they had been forced to abandon.

Now, as a family, the Vincents were known for the robust vigorous physical forms, course features, big noses and striking energy of character -- qualities that are alleged to have been inherited from Phoebe and marked them as a family wherever they lived.

But, beyond their physical appearance, they were distinguished in the communities where they respectively lived for the force and clearness of their intellect and their integrity of character, especially for their peculiarly retentive memories.

This was very true of my father, John Vincent.

My father was the youngest son of Cornelius and Phoebe born February 4th, 1772.

He was five years old when Isaac was killed.

It was some 20 years later at the age of 25, and with new settlements being laid out across the northwest frontier, John set out from Pittsburgh and walked north to Waterford - 117 miles away.

William Miles, Captain Pollock, Captain Strong, and Amos Judson were all notable figures in the small but growing community, and John soon became good friends with all of them.

He set himself with a home next to a small stream flowing into French Creek.

Unusual for the time, he didn't get married until he was 30.

He found a wife and Nancy Boyd, and a year later in 1803, he was made Erie County Commissioner and a Justice of the Peace.

Another fine thing happened in 1803.

They welcomed a beautiful, healthy baby boy.

That boy was me.

He facilitated the purchase of the courthouse lot in 1804 and the following year he was appointed an associate judge.

He had become a prominent figure, and as it is often the case prominent figures are called upon for other roles.

And so, this same year of 1805, my father John was made manager for the Erie and Waterford Turnpike Company.

A useful means of making a good income.

It was a role that probably helped keep him distracted.

And I imagine that was something he needed because on the 22nd of March, 1806, when I was two and a half years old, my mother died.

My father immersed himself in his work for the turnpike and in his position as associate judge.

He felt a strong sense of duty in that role.

So much so that he discharged the duties of that office for more than 34 years.

I don't know if it was just coincidence or an effort to hold onto the memory of my mother, but less than a year after my mother's passing, my father married again to a young woman, also called Nancy.

My childhood was simple.

The town was not large.

I did my chores.

As a family we worked hard.

I had started out working on my father's farm.

I drove a bull team between Waterford and Erie.

By my late teens, I was employed as assistant to Colonel James Kearney surveying land for the canal from the Ohio River to the Erie lakeshore.

A year later, I had started working in the state service as a civil engineer in Meadville.

This allowed me to build my reputation and standing across the local area.

This was beneficial when I returned to Waterford in 1834 and was duly elected town clerk and treasurer for the Borough of Waterford.

It was a good year for me.

Not only did the community show their faith in my capabilities, but I also married Sarah Strong, the daughter of a local, prominent and wealthy landowner.

The marriage between us marked the unification of two increasingly prominent families.

She was beautiful.

It wasn't just my opinion.

Lots of people recognized her beauty.

We enjoyed dinners, dances, functions with other leaders of the regions, although I was sure to be in bed no later than 9PM.

But the best part came a few years later.

Sarah announced that she was with child and she delivered to me a son, an heir.

We named him after Sarah's family.

Strong Vincent was born 1837.

We enjoyed the adjustment into parenthood and two years later, Sarah brought our daughter, Blanche Vincent into the world.

So small -- and just as beautiful as her mother.

Not wishing to put the burden on Sarah, I made efforts to ensure that she could sleep through the night.

I spent many hours soothing, Strong and Blanche in the quiet of the evening.

My career was growing, my family was growing.

I was inspired to do more.

I joined some others to found the County Mutual Insurance in 1839 and the following year, William and David Himrod, W.H.

Johnson and myself, established the Ironworks company, Vincent, Himrod, and Company.

We operated as the Presque Isle Foundry from a site inside Erie's industrial belt between 11th and 12th streets.

We capitalized on large whig and democratic political rallies that came through the area and we showcased our iron plows, stoves and such.

My heart was full with our family of four, but more joy came with the arrival of Strong and Blanche's baby sister Belle, just as beautiful.

It was 1842 and there was such happiness in our home.

But with my business going from strength to strength, I started to feel a pressing concern that I needed to be on hand, more accessible, more present.

We packed up our home and made our way further north to Erie.

My father-In-law, Captain Strong, had a two story townhouse, which we made good use of.

It was a place of much humor, but then sadness.

I like to think that being close to her father made the pain and suffering for Sarah to navigate.

You see, 11 days before her second birthday on May 3rd, 1844, Belle left her earthly body.

But, it was in this house that my second son Boyd, was born January, 1845.

My social standing and business reputation made me an easy choice for the newly incorporated Erie Canal Company in 1843.

I was a stakeholder and duly appointed manager.

This was also a big year as Vincent, Himrod, and Company was asked to supply shot for the army in Sackets Harbor and for the U.S. Michigan.

Vincent, Hinrod, and Company kept going from strength to strength, and by 1849, we shipped over 300 tons of pig iron and bars to ports across Lake Michigan and Superior.

With all the success, it was time to consider a new home.

We ultimately built ourselves a glorious mansion in 1849 on the northwest corner of Erie's Peach and Ninth Street.

We needed to do this in light of our growing family.

We welcomed another beautiful daughter, Kate, that same year.

I had risen to such prominence that in 1850 I was given the honor and responsibility of becoming the last Burgess of Erie.

Before we used the system of having a mayor, we had a Burgess.

I had a lot on my plate, but I was hungry for more.

That same year, I became director of the Pittsburgh and Erie Railroad Company.

I was active in the community, an established businessman and an involved family man.

Our new home put us next to Erie's founding family, the Reeds.

We were in the thick of Erie's most important families.

So enamored was I with a patriarch William Reed that after his death, I named my next son, Reed Vincent.

But, it felt as if I owed a debt for every son that was brought to me.

Just six weeks before Reed was born, Kate joined her sister Belle in eternal rest... just one month before her second birthday.

As a father, it's fair to say that I ran a strict household.

Idleness did not sit well with me, and I had expectations of my children.

They went to the best schools possible to study what you would today identify as the more typical moneyed educational curriculum of the 19th century of Greek, Latin, the classics.

My son Boyd later quoted me saying, no lazy boys about me.

Don't stand back and wait for the other man to put his hand in.

Get to it yourself.

My wife, Sarah, was a very devoted parent, very loving parent despite her reserved nature.

A year after Reed's arrival, we welcomed Rose.

But every child we brought into the world, it seemed another was taken from us.

Blanche was growing into a fine young lady, 12 years old.

Her presence of joy.

She died of sickness that same year of 1852.

The delight of life was so frequently at war with the heartache of death.

The year after that, our final son, Ward Vincent, completed our household.

I made sure that despite our wealth, despite our privilege, every one of those boys had their share of chores around the house from splitting and stalking the firewood, to tending the cows, to grooming the horses, to, to blocking the boots every Sunday and that our children knew work.

This was in part because above all else, I loved my children more than anything else in this world.

That being said, Strong, my firstborn, got into trouble while studying at Trinity College.

He may have reacted poorly to an unsavory comment made by a watchman.

Made in the direction of a woman who would later become my daughter-in-law.

Strong may have assaulted the watchman and possibly delivered a blow... or several... rendering the watchman unconscious.

It is possible that I may have used some of my money and my influence, my privilege to get him quietly moved across to Harvard.

I prefer to be a quiet hand in the way in which I influenced things.

William Himrod was a staunch abolitionist and Erie County's most outspoken opponent to slavery, having created not one, but two anti-slavery societies known openly as a conductor in the Underground Railroad, and he bought a large track of land along Erie West Bayfront divided it into lots and sold it at deeply discounted prices to African Americans, poor whites and Jews.

It would be reasonable to deduce that as a business partner and lifelong friend, I held similar views taking measures to instigate change.

Just... quietly.

We renamed the iron business to Erie City Ironworks.

It was booming.

We built hundreds of freight cars, passenger cars, boilers, and delivered the rush order to Colonel Edwin Drake for the first successful commercial oil well.

With the oil boom, we couldn't keep up with demand and the revenue kept coming.

We had already known wealth, but not like this.

This coincided with a time when local banks were failing.

A number of prominent and successful local business people began to establish their own institutions for banking and brokerage.

I felt this was a worthwhile endeavor, and so Vincent, Bailey, and Company was formed with a capitalization of $25,000 - close to $1 million in today's money.

On a darker note, unrest with the southern states had reached a boiling point.

I was called to chairman of the drafting board for the growing Civil War.

State militias were key in providing troops early on.

My son Strong enlisted early in the war, he was sure to teach those confederates a thing or two.

The war raged on for years.

War has always been good for business.

We were a major employer in the city.

Our operations brought about industrial revolution across the northwestern region of Pennsylvania.

The demands of war was good for industry.

War is not so good for families.

Two years into the war, I received word by telegram on July 4th, 1863, that Strong had been wounded in the battle of Gettysburg.

He had requested the company of his wife Elizabeth, but at seven months pregnant, she wasn't fit to travel.

And so, I departed the very next morning.

The chaos of war turned what should have been a one day journey into three.

I arrived July 8th and this three day journey made me one day late.

One day late, to hold his hand... one day late, to watch his breath.

One day late, to tell him how proud he had made me.

You see, my firstborn son died July 7th, 1863...

Forever 26 years old.

Just one day before I could reach him.

we brought him back to Erie and buried him in the cemetery.

I locked in as many memories as I could in preparation for telling the granddaughter, who would never meet her father, never fall asleep upon his chest...

I had hoped his legacy might live on with her.

But she went on to meet him far sooner than one would hope.

She died before reaching her first birthday, and we laid her to rest in the same cemetery.

She now sleeps by her father's side.

I would carry their loss with me to my own grave along with Blanche, Belle and Kate.

But time waits for no man, and there was business to attend to.

Our little bank had taken off.

We merged with other small banks in 1865 to form the Marine National Bank capitalized at $150,000, roughly 3 million in today's money.

This new bank needed a new president, and I was happy to oblige.

The steel industry had really taken hold.

Our technological innovations included the first blast furnace in the state.

Our satellite foundries ore mines... our success had unquestionably set the tone and pace for the steel industry's development across the state as a whole.

We had, at one point, been ahead of the curve of Pittsburgh, but finance was now more my speed, so I sold out of the foundry.

I kept myself active as I approached my later years, but I felt confident that I had toiled quite enough and been dealt with more than my share of heartbreak.

But I was thankful that our wealth and position afforded us to provide medical care and comfort to Reed.

He had developed a sickness in his late teens.

He had been so full of vigor and strength of a healthy boyhood.

The sickness took his leg, and after the amputation, Sarah placed a cot by her bed so that Reed would never be alone.

The sickness flared and settled.

He had good days and bad.

He was eager to regain his health and, and enthusiastic about attaining a formal education of the highest level.

It was after a period of improved health that he returned to be a student of Erie's Academy School.

It was on the steps of the academy in 1873 when he was 21 years of age, that his sickness, in spite of his energy and ambition, and tenacious hold on life - finally made him its victim.

I was 70 years old, burrying yet another of my beloved children.

I could feel age starting to set in.

The Erie City Iron Works was instrumental in making Erie one of the leading industrial centers in this world.

And, while I couldn't have imagined it at the time, the Marine National Bank, which had stood in the northwest corner of North Park Row and State -- later moved to 901 State Street where a present-day branch of PNC Bank stands.

My bank was in business for over a hundred years until several mergers led to its absorption into PNC.

So, in some fashion, it's still going strong as part of one of America's largest banking groups.

There's no question that most of my work was focused on the Erie region, but in 1866, I joined in building the National Grain Elevator of Chicago.

I was a partner in this concern until I drew my last breath.

Now, while many of my relatives lived well into their eighties, I died the 21st of July, 1876, just two weeks shy of my 74th birthday.

Some might say, "Oh, but you only lived for 73 years."

Well, yes.

But I really lived those 73 years... and my legacy lives on.

- Chronicles is made possible by a grant from the Erie Community Foundation, a community assets grant provided by the Erie County Gaming Revenue Authority support from Springhill Senior Living and the generous support of Thomas B. Hagen.

- We question and learn.