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| Artwork detail, Wilderness Road Blacksmith Shop. Artist: Joe Benjamin. Location: Silver Dollar City, Missouri | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Unique. There is something unique about our perception of blacksmithing. As Buddy Ebsen notes at right, the blacksmith was "one of the most essential of all the pioneer craftsmen." Perhaps that's why it figures so predominately in American culture of the 19th century. And while the art was ubiquitous in pre-industrial America, it has become something of a symbol of the Ozarks, both in literature and in history. |
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| From Buddy Ebsen "I felt Irene grab me by the arm as she yelled, 'Buddy! Look at that blacksmith! His beard's gonna catch on fire!' We Beverly Hillbillies were getting our first look at the Ozark Mountain location where we were to start filming the following morning. It was Silver Dollar City, an authentic reproduction of an 1890 mining town located in Southwest Missouri within sight of Arkansas. They were holding their annual Craft Festival, an event dedicated to the preservation of the pioneer skills which had enabled our ancestors to carve this country out of the wilderness. It was part and parcel of our story to show some of these artisans at work building every thing from log cabins and prairie schooners to oak barrels and hickory rockers. Since the blacksmith was one of the most essential of all the pioneer craftsmen, we had a scene with Shad Heller." ____ page ii, Newton, Margaret. 'SHAD' A Biography of Lloyd 'Shad' Heller, Pin Oak Publishing Company, 1982. |
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| The Village Blacksmith (an excerpt) Under the spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor... Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (18071882) |
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