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In December of 2000, I was returning from an extended stay in Georgia with Starr.
There were 525 miles between the two houses, and I had driven it dozens of times.
As I approached Jackson there was a pressing need for a stop. I saw the sign that
said Antique Mall and decided to stretch my legs there. Well, I missed the turn,
but I then saw a sign that said “Gun Show.” OK. Why not? But the parking lot
was full. I then rounded the corner and saw a sign that said “Craft Show.” At
this point, I was desperate.
I had attended the American Crafts Council show in Atlanta not long previously.
Both Starr and I had a love of fine crafts. She originated and ran the Great North
Georgia Chicken House Festival for a number of years, until her health forced her
to stop. What I was expecting at this stop, however, was one of those traveling
craft shows that will take anything and call it arts and crafts: poured ceramics,
tongue depressor art, ply-board cutouts. etc. These things have so abused the
term “arts and crafts” as to give it a whole new meaning, one word of which is
indelicate.
When I had accomplished my primary goal, I thought, “OK, I’m here.” I paid
my money and walked into the Chimneyville Craft Show. It was like a lighting
bolt. I was stunned. I wanted Starr to be there so badly. Right under my nose,
two hours from home, was THIS! Fine, beautifully made, carefully crafted, cre-
atively imagined things of all kinds, rows, dozens, stacks, piles, whole booths, of
excellence! There were genial, artistic people to show them. The whole place
was amazing. I eventually tried to find one really tacky booth; I failed! It was the
inverse of craft shows with only one good one. I was so overwhelmed by all the
lovely things that I could not buy anything. I realized that some of the folks
were also from Louisiana, even closer to home.
In the rear center was a booth of hand-wrought metalwork, made by a man
named Bennie Crevitts from near Meridian. I bought a couple of pulls from him,
and we visited about blacksmithing. I had always been interested in it. He invit-
ed me to come to the Mississippi Forge Council meeting the following Saturday. I
stayed at Chimneyville till folks were packing up. It charged my creative batter-
ies as few things ever have.
A friend called the following Monday. She had a new son-in-law who was a
welder. She said “He doesn’t know anyone and is driving us crazy! Would you
take him and do something with him?” So the next Saturday, we attended the
Forge Council meeting. I thought I would get him interested in doing blacksmith-
ing. He was having a ball while I hung back |