Hands of a Craftsman

Saturday, I told you a bit about my grandma, today--meet my grandpa.  Grandpa lived in Toole (pronounced two-ella) Utah, south of Salt Lake City and just south of the Kennecott Copper mines where he worked.  He was an immigrant from Latvia who had lived in Baltimore where he met Grandma, then they moved to Montana and lived in the country near Roberts--close to Custer's Last Stand. Before World War II broke out they moved to Toole where he worked in the mines.


Although he worked as a miner, as soon as he got home he headed for his workshop, where he worked with wood--his true love.  He made doll furniture for the grand children, little chairs for those toddlers who came to visit. 

Rocking chair pin cushion for
all the seamstresses in the family

Chair for the small fry

Desk similar to the one Grandpa made for me.

And he made me a desk.  It had a drop down front with little cubbyholes to hide all my treasures.  I would do my homework on it, and write stories and draw pictures with a set of colored pencils.  


He was just a simple man from the "old country", but his hands were those of a true craftsman.