Summer twilight brings the mosquito. In fact, when we go far north or far south, we have him with us both day and night. Rather I should say that we have her; for the male mosquito is a gentleman, who sips daintily of nectar and minds his own business, while madame his spouse is a whining, peevish, venomous virago, that goes about seeking whose nerves she may unstring and whose blood she may devour. … Stranger still, the mosquito is not only a bloodsucker but an incorrigible winebibber as well – she will get helplessly fuddled on any sweet wine, such as port, or on sugared spirits, while of gin she is inordinately fond.
— “The Book of Camping and Woodcraft” by Horace Kephart (The Outing Publishing Co.) 1908
While the wood being sold at Midwest Woodworking last weekend was enough to make me salivate, I really got excited when I learned the company was selling off its clamps.
Including, wait for it, a large collection of Wetzler F-style clamps.
I first encountered Wetzlers when Popular Woodworking Magazine gave away a bunch of them as part of a contest. Wetzler shipped the clamps to us; we had to ship them to the winner.
The box of clamps weighed about 300 pounds. After we opened it up, I knew I wanted a set for my shop. The clamps had heavy castings, yet the heads moved smoothly on the bars. And the screws were exquisitely made.
When I finally got my (expletive deleted) together to buy a set of Wetzlers, the company’s web site acted weird. Some links were dead. I tried e-mailing and calling the company. No luck. Eventually, the web site disappeared.
I used my newspaper reporter skills to trace the ownership chain to a Florida holding company. I called and e-mailed them. No response.
Does anyone know what happened to Wetzler? What about the patterns and molds? I know I could find someone who would make these clamps again.
When Ty Black started as a shop assistant last summer, he was bemused and amused that all my hand tools were stamped with my shop mark.
“I’ll bet your kids are stamped with this, too,” he joked.
Ty’s reaction is common. Many home woodworkers and tool collectors I’ve met take a dim view of marking your tools. It is “hubris,” according to some, because you are putting yourself on the same level as the maker of the tool. I’ve been told that I should only mark tools that I’ve made. Stamping lowers the value of the tool to collectors (though that attitude seems to be changing).
I have to laugh at these attitudes. When you work in a shop with other people, marking your tools in some way is essential so you can keep track of your tool kit. Lots of people own a Starrett 12” combination square, and when yours grows legs, the stamp is the only way to ensure it’s coming back home without a fight.
I’m not worried about theft, per se (though that was a concern in early shops). But before I marked every marking gauge, chisel and hammer, my tools would end up going home with my students. It was always accidental, but is was always annoying and stressful.
Of course, one can go overboard with a name stamp. See Joel Moskowitz’s blog today at Tools for Working Wood for a great example of this.
If you are going to take a woodworking class and still think a stamp is silly, mark your tools in some manner. Add a dot with some nail polish. Add a temporary stripe of brightly colored tape. Something. I’ve seen too much confusion at the end of a class when people are trying to decide whose chisel belongs to whom.
And if you want a fantastic stamp, contact Infinity Stamps. The company’s employees will design a stamp for you based off a sketch or whatever else you have. They are fast and great to deal with.
Gotta go. I have make a crapload of try squares today. And I hope to stamp them all before dinner. That’s another thing I like about my stamp. It announces happy hour for the day.
At my current pace – about three significant pieces a month – I have enough rough lumber to keep me busy for the next two years.
But when I walked into Midwest Woodworking Friday morning, I knew I was going to buy more. Frank David and his employees had sorted through the shop’s stores and come up with a lot more incredible stuff, including a cache of 4/4 sugar pine that I’d never seen.
As we unpacked that particular pile, I pulled six 16”-wide (or wider) 100-percent clear 16’-long boards aside. At less than $5/board foot it was a steal. And I made it only one-third of the way through the pile.
Customers hit the amazing cache of 5/4 mahogany.
Then I hit the mahogany – I picked up enough 8/4 for eight Roorkhee chairs.
And then, the Sipo (Entandrophragma utile). Midwest has a half-dozen planks of 16/4 that are 24” wide and 14’ long. Beautifully figured. Clear. Completely dry. And about $9 a board foot.
Daryl of Midwest attempts to cut a Sipo plank on a radial arm so. No dice.Daryl tries a recip saw on a Sipo plank.
I bought a plank – about 128 board feet worth – and needed to crosscut it to get it into my truck. Neither radical-harm saw at Midwest would do the trick the Sipo was too thick. Then we tried a recip saw. It was slow. Finally, one of the other customers loaned me a little battery circ saw that was the solution. I cut through both faces with the circ saw. Then removed the waste between with the recip saw.
What’s the Sipo for? I am thinking ahead: H.O. Studley workbenches.
After hoisting each plank onto my personal pile, I said aloud: “That’s it. I’m done.”
Five planks later, everyone around started mocking me.
I took my wood home and unloaded it.
Today I returned to Midwest to help other customers. Somehow I ended up unpacking that pile of sugar pine again. And I got down to some 18”-wide boards that had been there for 40 years. After pulling every plank, I told myself: That’s it, I’m done.
Five planks later… I really was.
The wood and machinery sale was a bittersweet affair for me and Andy Brownell, who did a huge amount of work organizing the event. The owner, Frank David, was there on Friday and it’s clear his health has deteriorated. It was great talking to him and catch up.
He’s suffering from congestive heart failure and is staring death in the face with the same pluck and optimism he used to run Midwest for decades.
“They say people can live with this for eight to 10 years,” he said. “We’ll see.”
I’m not sure what is in store for Midwest, the lumber inventory or the machinery – it’s none of my business, really. But I can say that the legacy of Midwest Woodworking and Frank David will live on through my work for at least the next five years as I pick through the incredible pile of lumber that takes up an entire wall of my shop.
This Friday and Saturday, Midwest Woodworking will be holding what is likely its last wood sale – plus veneers and most of the machinery on the shop floor.
The sale is 9 a.m. to 2 p.m. both days. Midwest is located at 4019 Montgomery Road in Cincinnati, Ohio. Here’s a Google Map.
Both Andy Brownell and I have spilled so many ones and zeros on Midwest, I hope I don’t have to repeat myself. It will be worth the drive. Yes, the wood is well-priced. But what is more important is that it is primo. Much of it is decades old, dry, stable and mild. And it has been stored flat.
Stuff from modern lumberyards (at least the ones around here) just does not compare.
Summer twilight brings the mosquito. In fact, when we go far north or far south, we have him with us both day and night. Rather I should say that we have her; for the male mosquito is a gentleman, who sips daintily of nectar and minds his own business, while madame his spouse is a whining, peevish, venomous virago, that goes about seeking whose nerves she may unstring and whose blood she may devour. … Stranger still, the mosquito is not only a bloodsucker but an incorrigible winebibber as well – she will get helplessly fuddled on any sweet wine, such as port, or on sugared spirits, while of gin she is inordinately fond.
