Mart H. Allen

THENDARA- Mart H. Allen, known to many as Marty, Adirondack forester, former New York State forest ranger, storyteller, and friend to an extraordinary assortment of people, died October 11, 2026, at the age of 99.

Mart was a man of strong opinions, considerable practical wisdom, unflinching generosity, and a voice that seldom needed amplification. His bark was worse than his bite, and there was no shortage of barking. Beneath that formidable exterior was a man who spent a lifetime helping people, particularly underdogs, misfits, and anyone who needed someone in their corner.

Born in Phoenix, New York, in 1927, Mart grew up during the Great Depression in a home without indoor plumbing. He learned about the outdoors as a boy, hunting and fishing with his father on Tug Hill at their camp near Smartville. His introduction to the Adirondacks was a trip to the Moose River Plains, riding there in the sidecar of his Uncle Stanley’s motorcycle.

As a high school student during World War II, he frequently escaped the classroom by volunteering for agricultural fieldwork in support of the war effort. It was an early expression of his preference for useful work over formalities.

Following high school, Mart joined the U.S. Army, and he found out they would give him $10 more each month if he jumped out of an airplane, so he qualified as a paratrooper. He served in the occupation of Japan. There he hunted pheasants, befriended local people, caught a glimpse of General Douglas MacArthur, and once beat the tar out of another American soldier who was picking on little Japanese children. It was entirely in character. Mart had little patience for bullies or petty tyrants, regardless of their standing.

After military service, he attended and graduated from the New York State Ranger School. He and his friend Morgan Roderick subsequently enrolled at the University of Michigan, where they remained just about long enough for a cup of coffee.

Mart worked for a year at Huntington Wildlife Forest in Newcomb, New York, before heading west to work for the U.S. Forest Service in Idaho (he often spoke fondly of marking grand fir that had dwarf mistletoe). Returning to his native state, he became the first New York State Forest Ranger appointed through a civil service examination. He was assigned to the Old Forge District, patrolled and helped shape the community we all know. In due time he was promoted to district ranger and moved his family to Moravia, NY.

His years as a ranger gave him an intimate knowledge of vast stretches of the Adirondacks, their back roads, streams, mountains, and the people who inhabited them. That knowledge stayed with him throughout his life, and he spoke of it often.

Mart eventually tired of state employment and moved to Thendara to work for the Adirondack League Club, working his way up from the Bisby Lodge to become the club’s general manager. He retired in 1992, although retirement was in an elastic sort of way. He continued as a consulting forester for many years and was actively marking timber sales well into his late eighties.

He believed in ambition, practicality, tire chains, and dry firewood. In his world, hard maple was always better than it looked, soft maple was always worse, and men wore hats. He was proud of his membership in the National Rifle Association and had little use for fashionable opinions that failed the test of common sense. He sometimes referred to himself as "the boy with two eyes," a description well suited to a man who believed in looking carefully at the world and drawing his own conclusions.

Mart could be a stern taskmaster, but he was also extraordinarily generous with opportunities. He was known to hire almost anyone who came looking for work, explaining that anyone was worth five dollars an hour and, if things didn't work out, what was the harm? Some of those employees prospered, others did not, but he never let a disappointment discourage him from giving the next person a chance.

Mart helped a great many people over the years. This was appreciated by many and taken for granted by others. He turned the other cheek so many times his face was chapped.

He was also a prodigious storyteller, with a lifetime of material at his disposal. He had grown up knowing veterans of the Civil War, lived through the Depression and World War II, met at least three presidential candidates, and once bought Paul Newman a drink in New Hampshire. Stories poured out of him, frequently stories his listeners had heard before, but every so often he would produce another that no one remembered hearing. His recollections of characters, events, and working life were a treasure.

His fishing advice was legendary and paradoxical. If a stream had held trout when he or a friend was a boy, Mart was certain it must still hold trout. Conversely, if he declared a stretch of water worthless, it was often an excellent place to wet a line.

In retirement, Mart wrote a weekly newspaper column for many years, recounting stories, sharing opinions, and sometimes provoking his readers. He acquired a loyal following and a collection of detractors, neither of which seemed likely to change his mind about anything.

For all his pronounced pessimism about the state of the world, Mart's gloomy predictions were defeated almost daily by the good things that happened to him and the good people who surrounded him. He took particular pleasure in the accomplishments of his children and grandchildren, never missing an opportunity to express his pride in them. His grandchildren brought him immense happiness, and they endured his stories and blunt suggestions well.

Of all the decisions he made in his long life, Mart maintained that the smartest was marrying Nancy. It was one conviction on which he never wavered.

Mart is survived by his wife, Nancy; daughters Donna, Nancy, and Lisa; 8 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren; his sister Adelia; and a remarkable number of friends. His only son, Marty, preceded him in death in 1989.

Mart belonged to a generation of woodsmen whose understanding of the forest was inseparable from their understanding of the people who lived and worked in it. He was generous, opinionated, practical, cantankerous, compassionate, and utterly himself. His passing leaves a considerable hole in the Adirondack community and in the lives of the many people fortunate enough to have known him.

There will be no shortage of stories about Mart Allen. There never was.

Ranger. Forester. Friend. Rest in peace, Mart.

In keeping with Mart’s last wishes, a small, closed family service will be held for him on October 23rd. For anyone wishing to share condolences or their memories of Mart, a memorial website has been set up for him here. 

For anyone preferring to reach out to his wife Nancy directly, she receives her mail at P.O. Box 185 Thendara, NY 13472.

Mills Funeral Home of Boonville has been entrusted with the arrangements.

Online messages of sympathy may be made at www.millsfuneralhomes.com.