Weekday
The weekly feature page of the University Daily Kansan
January 25, 1979
A blacksmith since 1900, Rudy Ehasser, B5; no longer shoes horses or fixes wagon wheels. He is content now to six plow shears in the shop he bought almost half a decade ago for $100.
INDUSTRY—The blacksmith校布 of Rudy Elhassner looks as if it was pucked from the stage setting of some early Western film in the horse and buggy days of the blacksmith himself looks as if he are been around just as long.
Rudy Ehlasser, 41, has been swinging his heavy slider since 1903, and the long exhausting, morning-till-night day put in during such hectic weeks as plow season and harvest have taken their toll with the blacksmith—at least
In spirit, however, Eliasher remains unbeatable. His bent body covers over his farming forge and his weather-beaten face takes on an incredible look when the subject of retirement is mentioned. His callous hands seem permanently blackened by years working around the coats and ashes in his firebox.
Walking back and forth between his fire and anvil seems to take a bit of effort, but Elbasser takes with ease and pride about his 49 years as a blacksmith for the tiny town of Industry, population approximately 60.
"I came here in 1930 and met up with a man who needed some money to pay for a funeral," he said. "He was asking $100 for the shop and all the tools. I give him what he asked—I didn't stay around to argue.
"I didn't know a thing about smithing then. I asked the owner where I should start and he just pointed at the shop window."
Everything in here is an antique. People come in and they can tell how old everything is and they think they
Everything in the shop, including tools, anvil and firebox, dates back to the day Elhasser bought them for $100. Today, he speculates, he could sell everything for 100 times that original price.
To be sure, the antiquity of the shop is apparent. The firebox, a large steel table blackened by use and cluttered with dozens of rusty, heavy tools, sits off to one side of the room.
Ladies, hammers, pokers, shovels and tongs decorate the tables and floor, always in reach of the adept, grasping hand of the blacksmith. The rusty anvil shows the nicks and warts of years of use, but its original solidity
A couple of old, wooden rocking chairs, "for the ladies to sit down and draw a spell," surround a wood-burned, ash-embedded rock.
Resting in one of the chairs, Elbasser reflected on outfitting the blacksmith trade.
I thought about closing it all down in a few years ago," he said. "But all the neighbors said, bell, no, Rudy, we need
"They need me during plow season mostly. I'm here before surprise and here after sunset then, during harvest,
I got more work than I know what to do with; I could work all night, every night. "
Work during plow season and harvest consists of sharpening and repairing plow shears, or blades. Aside from that, Elhassar makes and repairs blades for mowers and other garden tools and other and other garden tools and small hand tool for farmers.
“But plow shears is what I do most,” he said. “I love doing plow shears more than anything else.”
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"Iain不能有加速，他 said, 'At least not yet. But I got a long way to go. I went to a shop of a lot better than my own.'"
Elhasser didn't always keep his money in banks. For years, he hid his money underneath a contraction called a cone-wheel, which is pointed at one end and tops out like a wedge. He would use it on the side of about five feet tall and was used to repair worn wheels.
"I don't need to work for a living," he said. "I got enough money in two banks around here to keep me
"I haven't set a wagon靴 for quite a while - at least not in the last 10 years," he joked. "Everybody's driving their pickups now. Hell, I don't blame 'em; you can take a pickup anywhere."
Although he has been in the blacksmith trade about half a century, Elhasser insists he is "a jack of all trades and master of none," because he knows a little about it. He said neighbors can to him for advice about problems.
"They ask me what to do about their arthritis," he said. "I say you gotta use turpentine. Turpentine will take the soreness out of your joints so you can walk at least. Next day you gotta do the same damn thing, though."
Age and work have tired him out, Elhasser said.
"The ol b乐 just a不小 he need to be. You remember that when you're as old as I am and you now have 60, the one you want to take for a hammer, discarding one after the other until he found it's favorite—the one with his initials, R.E.
But the day began to darken outside, and the blacksmith laid down his hammer and began closing shop. At 81, 82, 83, 84.
"It can be 103 in the shade outside, and this old fire didn't bother me a bit," said Elmasher, left, who still has the tools that were used on the fire.
Story by Lori Linenberger Photos by Randy Olson