The Sled That Changed Everything

J. Mark Powell’s
Posted 12/30/21

All across the country, from Seattle to Secaucus, kids are playing with their beloved new Christmas toys.

Think Ralphie and his Red Ryder BB gun in “A Christmas Story.”

For adults, this …

This item is available in full to subscribers.

Subscribe to continue reading. Already a subscriber? Sign in

Get 50% of all subscriptions for a limited time. Subscribe today.

You can cancel anytime.
 

Please log in to continue

Log in

The Sled That Changed Everything

Posted

All across the country, from Seattle to Secaucus, kids are playing with their beloved new Christmas toys.

Think Ralphie and his Red Ryder BB gun in “A Christmas Story.”

For adults, this time of year also conjures beloved memories of enjoying their favorite childhood gift.

Mine came when I was in second grade. I got an extra-long sled (I was a tall kid even then), and wouldn’t you know it — the ground was blanketed with heavy snow just two days later. A glorious afternoon spent rushing downhill on my brand new sled is one of my most cherished childhood memories.

Which got me musing on sleds in general. Did you know we owe today’s modern sled to a quiet Quaker who made farm equipment?

Samuel Leeds Allen was the kind of guy who was always tinkering with one invention or another, an improvement on an existing device that made it faster, more efficient or just plain better. He began working on projects on his father’s farm outside Cinnaminson

Township, New Jersey. Sam loved watching kids sled down a snow-covered hillside near Westtown School, a private Quaker college. But he also spotted a bad problem.

In the 1880s, sleds were really more toboggans than the sleds we know today. They were basically long, thin wooden planks that kids rode belly first. There was no mechanism for maximizing gravity’s pull, and certainly, no way to steer the contraption. Which could become a serious threat when trees or fellow sledders got too close.

Sam was busy running S. L. Allen & Company, which made a variety of seed drills and cultivating equipment for farmers. But he couldn’t stop thinking about those kids and their primitive sleds, and soon his restive mind got the better of him. He began experimenting, using Westtown School students to test each new version. It took some trial and error, but when he was finished Sam had created an American classic.

On August 12, 1889, Sam Allen was awarded Patent No. 408,681 for his invention: the Flexible Flyer. And it revolutionized the activity.

Its metal runners made the sled, well, fly downhill, making the older wooden toboggan types eat its snow dust. But its standout feature was the ability to steer by turning wooden handles left or right. Riders could sit or lie, steer with their hands or feet, and hold on for dear life with a stretch of rope that accompanied it.

The Flexible Flyer was also a way to keep Sam’s factory workers busy during the off-farming season. They made agricultural implements all winter, so a supply would be ready in time for spring planting. The summer months were spent producing Flexible Flyers, so there would be a stockpile on hand when demand spiked in December.

At first, sales were only so-so. The Flyer was so revolutionary, sledders had to discover its many benefits. And that took time. But once they tried it, they loved it. Allen eventually sold the sleds at department stores, and that was when sales really took off. In 1915, for example, approximately 120,000 Flexible Flyers were sold, with nearly 2,000 of them selling in a single day. All over the country each winter, kids were having a blast on Sam’s creation.

Sam Allen was a wealthy man when he died in 1918 at age 76. Though more famous in his day for his farm machinery, the Flyer was his lasting legacy. Chances are good that somewhere in America today, kids (and even a few grownups) are enjoying them.

S. L. Allen & Company was sold in 1968. The Flexible Flyer line was spun off and changed corporate hands several times, with production moving from Pennsylvania to Ohio, then Mississippi, then Illinois until — where else? — China began turning them out. A handful are produced in Maine as well.

But the assembly location doesn’t matter as much as the sled itself. Because 132 years later, Sam’s contribution to winter fun is still making sledders smile.

Have comments, questions or suggestions you’d like to share with Mark? Message him at jmp. press@gmail.com.

Comments

No comments on this item Please log in to comment by clicking here