As the wet oak is rived, I can smell my daddy’s neck. There was no other neck. Time and time again he would come upstairs out of the basement or come inside from the back yard with wood shavings (most likely white oak, his favorite) on his chamois shirt, or his beat-up boots.
I could get a bear hug like no other. And to this day, I know the scent of a Woodpucky. The Woodpucky (a woodworker to most people) lives and breathes with wood. Always carries the scent of wood – dust probably hanging around them, on them or their clothes and hair. They understand time, growth, fit, math, structure, wet, dry – the whole gamut.
— Harper Burke, daughter of Jennie Alexander, at her father’s memorial