Thanks to a long-time reader for this one...
January 5, 2010
Curtis Allina Dies at 87; He Put the Heads on Pez
Curtis Allina, a candy company
executive who presided over a powerful innovation in marketing that was
less about the candy itself than it was about the container it came in
— and who in unintended consequence created a universe of enraptured
collectors — died Dec. 15 at his home in Olympia, Wash. Mr. Allina, who
helped bring the world the modern Pez dispenser, was 87.

The cause was heart failure, his son, Johnny, said.
For nearly three decades after World War II, Mr. Allina was the vice
president in charge of United States operations at what is now Pez Candy.
In 1955, at his urging, what had been an austerely packaged Austrian
confection for adults took on vibrant new life as a children’s product.
That year, the first character dispensers, as they are known in the
parlance of Peziana, were issued, giving birth to what is today a
highly collectible pop-cultural artifact. Instantly recognizable, the
dispensers are slim plastic containers, usually anthropomorphic in
design, whose heads — modeled after those of TV characters, cartoon
figures or historical personages — flip back to disgorge brick-shaped
pieces of candy.
Driven in large part by baby-boomer nostalgia, Pez dispensers are
now a staple of eBay and the ubiquitous
subject of conventions, Web sites, newsletters, books and even a
museum, the Burlingame Museum of Pez Memorabilia
in Burlingame, Calif. They have been featured in movies; a memorable
“Seinfeld” episode (in which Elaine ruins a piano recital by
laughing uncontrollably at the sight of a Pez dispenser); and a
2006 documentary, “PEZheads: The Movie,” which explores the
Pez-collecting phenomenon.
Today, Pez Candy, based in Orange, Conn., sells tens of thousands of
dispensers each year in 80 countries.
A Pez dispenser is a simple little machine: back snaps the head, out
pops the candy, and the head flicks shut again with a satisfying click.
But oh, the variations, from a spate of licensed characters to those
designed by Pez. For serious collectors, the most highly prized
dispensers, long discontinued, are elusive objects of desire that can
run to thousands of dollars apiece.
Hundreds of different
dispensers are extant.
(“Hundreds” is a conservative estimate, for collectors count minute
alterations in a dispenser’s shape or color as meaningful in ways
others do not.) They include Popeye Pez, Pokémon Pez and Paul Revere
Pez; SpongeBob Pez and Elvis Pez (in several
historical variants, from ’50s boyish through ’70s dissipated); Mozart Pez,
Hello Kitty Pez and Mickey Mouse Pez.
Precisely whose idea it was to put heads on Pez dispensers —
previously headless, unadorned and tastefully Viennese — is the subject
of continuing debate among Pez historians. In a telephone interview,
David Welch, the author of “Collecting PEZ” (Bubba Scrubba
Publications, 1994), said that in researching his book he encountered
half a dozen possible candidates, Mr. Allina among them. This much, Mr.
Welch said, is certain:
“The idea came from the United States. And for the idea to have come
out of the United States and made it to Austria where it could be
approved, Allina was the only guy who could have made that happen.”
Curtis Allina was born Aug. 15, 1922, in Prague, and raised in
Vienna. Between 1941 and 1945, he and his family, Sephardic Jews, were
forced into a series of concentration camps. Mr. Allina emerged at
war’s end as his family’s sole survivor in Europe. Making his way to
New York, he worked for a commercial meatpacker before joining
Pez-Haas, as the company’s United States arm was then known, in 1953.
Pez was invented in 1927 by Eduard Haas III, a Viennese
food-products mogul. Small, rectangular and mint-flavored (the name is
a contraction of pfefferminz, the German word for peppermint), the
candy was marketed to adults as an alternative to smoking. Originally
sold in tins, Pez was repackaged in the late 1940s in plain, long-stemmed dispensers meant to suggest
cigarette lighters.
Introduced into the United States in the early 1950s, Pez sold
fitfully. Then someone thought of remarketing it as a children’s candy,
in fruit flavors, packed in whimsical dispensers. It fell to Mr. Allina
to persuade the home office in Vienna, by all accounts a conservative
outfit that took sober pride in its grown-up mint.
Mr. Allina prevailed, and the first two character dispensers, Santa
Claus and a robot known as the Space Trooper, were introduced in 1955.
Unlike today’s plain-stemmed, headed-and-footed dispensers, both were full-body figures,
completely sculptured from top to toe.
Mr. Allina, who left Pez in 1979, was later an executive of Au’Some
Candies.
Mr. Allina’s first marriage, to Hanna Hofmann, ended in divorce. He
is survived by his second wife, Hannelore; two children from his first
marriage, Babette Allina and Johnny Allina; two children from his
second marriage, Tanya Carlson and Alexia Allina; and three
grandchildren.
His legacy also includes hundreds of Pez-related
Web sites, dozens of conferences with names like the Swedish Pez Gathering and
the Slovenian Pez
Convention, and scores of organizations, from Lone Star
Pez (in North Texas) to the Association
Française
des Collectionneurs de Pez. There is a
collector in Oklahoma who owns a Pez-dispenser-encrusted automobile,
and
thousands of others around the world, it is entirely safe to
assume, who dream Pez-infused dreams at night.
Perhaps all this renders moot the question of who came up with the
now-familiar dispenser in the first place.
“Whose idea was it? Who the hell knows,” Mr. Welch, the Pez
historian, said. “Who was more important in getting it done? Allina.”