Becoming a Blacksmith by Anderson Gardener Phillips Some things never change but most things do. In my line of work this is true to the fullest extent. I am seventeen years old, and I am a blacksmith, or at least I am becoming one. A blacksmith is one who works iron, not only making horse shoes, but one who also makes tools, hardware, gates, fences and almost anything out of iron that is needed. It is the most wonderful and diverse trade in all the world. Nowhere else than in the blacksmith shop have I found the mixture of beauty, strength and hard work all poured into a single piece of iron. Thus, the iron we work, the fire we keep and the hammer we swing all have a magic to them for they are the extent of mans' creative nature. That nature and this trade have gone hand and hand for thousands of years. For the most part, the true nature of the trade has not changed, yet in the past hundred years the trade of the blacksmith has dwindled, and the masters are few and far between. As a student of this trade I have been lucky to find the guidance that I need. My father was a jeweler and it was from him that my love of metal work along with my knowledge began to grow. I learned many of the basic things I know from working with the silver and gold he mastered, but I was never satisfied with the work of a jeweler. I found a hammer one day, and I asked my father what it was for. He said it was a blacksmith's tool. He went on to tell me that the work of a blacksmith was hard and required a blacksmith not only to be strong but smart as well. I had never seen a blacksmith work before and didn't believe any existed any more. I thought the trade was lost to museums and perhaps some who did it as a hobby. I was 12 when I started to make a few small things, beating them out on a piece of railroad track at my anvil and a campfire as my forge. I was able to gain bits and pieces of knowledge from books, but it wasn't until chance brought me to a treasure of knowledge. While at the Dixie Classic Fair, I heard the ringing of the anvil and found the demonstrations done by the local blacksmithing group. I must have spent an hour in disbelief as I looked over every tool in the shop; it was heaven for me at the time. I was able to attend the monthly meetings of this blacksmithing group and learned so much by watching and listening to their skilled demonstrators. So as time went on I slowly built a shop of my own. I collected tools and hammers and spent every spare minute working on whatever project I had found for myself. I can only imagine what my mother thought, but my family supported me in my unusual interest in the trade; we even all took a road trip the day I went to buy my first anvil. I began to take small orders and sell some of my work as my hobby began to grow into a profession, yet I still lacked the basic training that I needed to aspire. The traditional aspiring blacksmith would take an apprenticeship (he would work with a blacksmith who would teach him). Once he had learned all he could from that master he would take his things and journey to another blacksmith's shop where he could learn and work, hence becoming a journeyman of the trade. To continue to grow as a blacksmith I had to find someone to teach me. (At the time I didn't even know where to begin.) I sent a letter to a school across the country that taught blacksmithing, and I found a perfect place for me to learn, the American School of Blacksmithing in Oregon. The master of the shop was a man named Geronimo Bayard, a renowned horse-shoer and a blacksmith of great skill. I got on a bus and rode from Winston to Oregon where I took three classes and spent some time on the side, overall about a month. The master of the shop, Geronimo, let me stay with him while I was there. He would teach me between classes and took me with him to shoe horses. He quickly became not only my teacher, but a great friend and an excellent role model. I am thankful for every day I spent with him and for everything I learned. You see, fate has an odd way of playing itself out. Geronimo died a few months after I finished his classes. Another master of the trade is lost. About six months ago I took an apprenticeship with a blacksmith, Bernd Mergener. He was trained in Germany and moved to the United States and now works in Winston. The organization, hard work, ethics, and perfectionist attitude that make German craftsmanship so great are the current topics of my study. I also learn the extent of the trade beyond just swinging a hammer. I am learning how to run the business. It is from Bernd that I have learned to make all of the pieces come together, and I am still in awe at his skilled experience and hope that one day I may achieve the same skill as he. The end goal for me is to be a master of the trade, but as I am told, you are not a master until someone else calls you one. I'll get there thanks to the help and the true friendship of those who have taught me. I can only hope that one day I'll be able to teach the way that I have been taught, to prolong the life of a dying art, to pass on the skills, the knowledge and the history, the legacy and the legend of the trade I love so much. mzmouser@attbi.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Time's fun when you're having flies." -Kermit the Frog