While living in Huntsville, Texas in my early years, I walked across town to the only elementary school that they had in that day. On the way was a blacksmith shop which was very traditional in creating those things of a vanishing era. Blacksmiths tend to favor working when light is low so that they can judge temperatures on the metals that they are forming. I would always go to school a little early so that I would have time to watch the blacksmith work. He did magic things. I have seen that accomplished craftsman re-spoke wheels, re-tire wagon wheels and from bar stock produce appropriately sized horse shoes in time which was truly an act of magic. I have seen him shoe horses and mules which seemed happy to respond to his coaxing nature and be totally cooperative in the process of being shod. He was also a wheelwright of extreme capability. During that time horses and wagons were in general use in the area. Seeing the blacksmith in the open light was somewhat frightening as his skin had been permanently tattooed by the carbon sparks driven into his hands and arms by the work he did. I had been taught to be respectful and not be a bother to people but found that my respectful nature and behavior had not gone unnoticed by the blacksmith. One day when walking with my father down town in Huntsville, the blacksmith told my father that he would be happy to have me as a son.. I must admit that the thought scared the hell out of me.
Posted on: Thu, 18 Dec 2014 06:47:50 +0000
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