Saved from the workshop…

As you may recall, when our log cabin was underwater in the flood last fall, my basement Chairmaking Workshop was decimated. Among the many attempts by friends during the rescue and cleanup operation was the valiant effort by our friend Susan to rinse and dry the few photographs that I had tacked to the rafters down there.

Oh, it hurts to look back on those days… anyway… today I am in the midst of clearing the office for tax prep and I ran across the tiny stack of the surviving photos. They tell a tale of very early days of my woodworking career and some of the fun that Peter Follansbee and I had and since most of you know me only as a painter I thought I’d share them as proof that once, in a time far far ago… I was a Chairmaker…

The early days

The beginnings at the Follansbee home on Pierce Rd.

Follansbee and Myself along the banks of the Little Conewago Creek...which as you can see is still in it's banks.


And now here's his son Daniel hard at work in his Plymouth Plantation workshop.

A chair for nephew Neill

This kid is now in college !

Little Nephew Johnny who is now 16 and well over 6 feet tall.

and...I think this is James, Stephanie's oldest son, Steph being my oldest friend from waaay back in high school...he's now at Brown ...that's my basement workshop in the background.

So there you have it. Now digitally documented for posperity.

When I decided to give painting my full time attention, circa 2000, one of the first things on my easel was this homage to that life of shavings, In the Chairmaker’s Wake…makes me want to sit on my shaving horse and think back on all the happy hours with the old drawknife…


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