- Joined
- Mar 18, 2006
- Messages
- 520
The earliest memories I still have, from about 5 or 6, are of wandering the alleys in a small Ohio town before we moved away. That I was able to mess around on my own at that age says someting about the '50's. Adults didn't shoo me away or pay much attention one way or the other.
I recall hearing a hammer ring from an open- faced shop facing the alley behind the grocery, and a glow that wasn't an electric light 'cause it was more orange. I stepped inside and the hammerer just glanced a look, then while still working, said something I don't remember. He was working over an anvil holding yellow steel with tongs (I didn't know what it was at the time) but he was wearing his sleeves up. I don't recall what he looked like, or if he smiled, yet I still can see his huge forearms. Really huge, that's still the impression I have.
He and his clothes were the same color as the rest of the shop and what I know now was the open forge, most everything was soot black. I know it was a coal forge because he put a couple of chunks in. I think it probably had a fan because I remember a big accordion thing hanging in a corner. Funny, the things a kid remembers.
Neither of us said much. I was entranced by the hammer rhythm- three strikes on the glowing steel then five small dissimilar bounces on the end of the anvil, then three more strikes. The hammer never stopped. I must have asked because I can still hear his answer " Checking the work". I believe he meant checking the piece without stopping the hammer kept his rhythm and accuracy. And "A knife. For a friend."
I wonder how many of his knives for friends still survive. His may be ones that are occasionally seen without a maker's mark that were not appreciated at the time as much as they are today.
Regards, ss.
I recall hearing a hammer ring from an open- faced shop facing the alley behind the grocery, and a glow that wasn't an electric light 'cause it was more orange. I stepped inside and the hammerer just glanced a look, then while still working, said something I don't remember. He was working over an anvil holding yellow steel with tongs (I didn't know what it was at the time) but he was wearing his sleeves up. I don't recall what he looked like, or if he smiled, yet I still can see his huge forearms. Really huge, that's still the impression I have.
He and his clothes were the same color as the rest of the shop and what I know now was the open forge, most everything was soot black. I know it was a coal forge because he put a couple of chunks in. I think it probably had a fan because I remember a big accordion thing hanging in a corner. Funny, the things a kid remembers.
Neither of us said much. I was entranced by the hammer rhythm- three strikes on the glowing steel then five small dissimilar bounces on the end of the anvil, then three more strikes. The hammer never stopped. I must have asked because I can still hear his answer " Checking the work". I believe he meant checking the piece without stopping the hammer kept his rhythm and accuracy. And "A knife. For a friend."
I wonder how many of his knives for friends still survive. His may be ones that are occasionally seen without a maker's mark that were not appreciated at the time as much as they are today.
Regards, ss.
