Now that you have had a chance to see all of the beautiful carvings in the Warther Museum you want to know more about Ernest "Mooney" Warther--carver extraordinaire. Dover is located in Tuscarawas County astride the Tuscarawas River. The following brief history of Ernest Warther's life and amazing accomplishments was related to me by his son Dave. Dave is a good carver in his own right and has spent his life building the museum which preserves his father's work.
Early Life
Ernest Warther was born in Dover, Ohio on October 30, 1885 to Swiss immigrants. He was the youngest of a family of three boys and two girls, and his father died when he was only three years old. His mother struggled to keep the family afloat by taking in washing, ironing, mending and so on. Because of these pressing economic circumstances Ernest was only able to attend school through the second grade. Calling on their Swiss heritage, he went to work as a herdsman - or herdboy might be more accurate. At that time everyone had a "family" cow or two for the milk. Those who lived in town had to arrange for pasture and this was the basis of Ernest's business. For a penny a day he would take cattle from Dover to pasture in outlying areas, returning them at nightfall.
At this time he also acquired his nickname, Mooney. This was short for moonay (sic) which in Swiss-German means "bull of the herd." It foretold of the vibrant life force Mooney was to exhibit all of his days. In fact he became so known by this name that few people outside his family even knew his real name. When he died in 1973 the Dover paper printed headlines, "Ernest Warther Dies!" Although Mooney was a town notable, most citizens exclaimed, "who the devil is Ernest Warther?" Had the headline read "Mooney Warther Dies", everyone, to the youngest child, would have bowed in silent prayer for a minute or two.
The one central point of the nine years Mooney spent as a herder was that he had plenty of time. Once the cattle were at pasture there was not a lot to do until it was time to drive them home. On one of his daily treks to the fields he found a penknife in the road and this was to become the instrument of his greatness. He took up whittling which passed the time admirably. Mooney's carvings during this period were "rustic" in style. Caged balls with chains, carved from one piece of wood, canes and so on.
The daily expeditions to the meadow took Mooney through the Dover Railroad Yard and there one day he met a hobo. In that time hoboes were not to be confused with common tramps who were of no account. Hoboes were a unique fraternity of intelligentsia who had taken up the vagabond lifestyle out of a restless spirit. Hoboes were machinists, mill rights, carpenters and the likes of Woody Guthrie--father to present Arlo Guthrie. They had a secret writing of their own and passed from town to town as stowaways on freight trains, exchanging day labor for food and shelter.
The hobo in question was carving wooden pliers and Mooney was instantly interested. A series of simple cuts yielded a slip joint. Because the cuts were simple piercing cuts no wood was lost in the process. The hobo showed the lad enough to peek interest, and charged him to, "figure out the fine points himself." This Mooney did, carving hundreds - after all he had plenty of time. Raw material presented some problems, and as always Mooney came up with innovative solutions. To successfully execute pliers one needs a soft, predictable, straight grain wood such as pine or basswood (linden or lime wood in Europe). In those days signs were painted on soft pine - the finest of Eastern white pine, free of knots, which would show through the paint job. Any event, such as a circus or medicine show, would place a good deal of signage, which was often abandoned in place. Mooney gleaned most of his wood from these signs but he also was known to appropriate wooden buckets when the opportunity arose. Dover citizens soon to take their buckets in at night..
Once Mooney perfected the intricacies of the slip joint he took the idea farther. He carved the handles into two more sets of pliers for a total of three. He would then carve these two handles for a total of five sets of pliers all branching from the first and so on. Later in his twenties he carried this to unbelievable levels. Often carving in a rowboat on the Tuscarawas River, his wife Freida would row while Mooney carved. He made branching "plier trees" with many individual sets of pliers. Pictured is one of his finest examples with 511 individual sets of pliers in it.
As his friends started to get married he would give his plier trees as wedding presents. There was much symbolism in the gift, for to Mooney the two main jaws of the pliers represented the husband and wife - separate entities but joined in a union. Just as with the plier joint nothing was lost. The other pliers represented their children and offspring forming the family tree.
At age 14 Mooney got a job in a steel mill. Of course he lied about his age to get the job, but this was before government regulation and child labor laws. That you could work, arrived on time and did a good job were the salient points. He was to work at the mill for 23 years and it was here that he learned to forge, work, harden and temper steel. These skills would make him a gifted and renowned knifemaker. In the boom bust cycles of the late industrial revolution the steel mill would frequently shut down for extended periods of time. There was no such thing as unemployment compensation, so one was left to one's own devices at such times. Knifemaking was a source of hard need cash during mill shut downs, but Mooney would also repair shotguns and fix things for people.
Knifemaking
In his lifetime, at least in the Dover area, Mooney was better known as a knife maker than a carver. He could not find knives which suited his carving needs so in 1902 he started making knives out of necessity. He always claimed that a good carving knife should have a blade no longer than the length of your thumb. Any who has done any carving knows that this is so, a big blade affords poor leverage, is more prone to slippage and in general just gets in the way. About this time he made some kitchen knives as a present for his mother. Like all proud mothers she showed his handiwork to her friends, some of whom wanted their own. Mooney saw economic possibilities and another way to supplement the family income during lean times was born.
Of all the knives he made, most visitors to the museum favor his series of custom pocket whittling knives. These clever knives have liners and bolsters of German silver and grips are of mother of pearl or ivory. A small assortment of blades is kept in a compartment inside the knife, which is accessed by folding out the back strap. The blades each have a slot which engages a cross pin through the front bolster. Closing the back strap locks the blade in place for use. The handle pattern is both beautiful and ergonomic. Holding it just makes you want to carve.
<Note to Mark: We need a photo of one of the best knives with the back strap open and an assortment of blades. We need call outs describing parts of the knife. i.e. Bolster, liner, blade, etc.>
Mooney Marries Freida Richard
On October 29, 1910, the day before his twenty-fifth birthday, Mooney married Freida Richard, also of Swiss immigrate parentage. In fact she was born in Switzerland. The family's name was actually Reichardt but it was Anglicized to Richard, a common occurrence in those days. She was to be a lynch pin of a splendid relationship spanning sixty-two years. Her steadfast love, admiration of Mooney's artistic genius, and unbelievable tolerance of his workshop are an inspiration. Much of the credit for Mooney's prolific output has to go to Freida, for she was his most ardent supporter.
They found a nice piece of property on a small mill stream, the Calico Ditch. A tributary of the Sugar Creek, the Calico Ditch has gone dry in modern times. On a bluff they built a house that overlooked the stream and hillsides they both loved so much. Mooney terraced the hillside with stone walls and built raised beds of flowers just like you see in the old country. Freida then planted flowers and gardens transforming the bard into a place of beauty.
During these first years of marriage Mooney and Freida spent many pleasurable hours hiking the surrounding countryside and rowing in the Sugar Creek and the Tuscarawas River. This was the basis of the one hobby they shared in common, collecting Indian arrowheads. The area abounds with arrowheads, for it was the home to the Tuscarawas Indians and before them the Hopewell people. The hobby actually dates back to Mooney's cow herding days, when one day he saw a group of men looking around like they lost something. Actually they were trying to find something, Indian arrow points. So started another of Mooney's great interests in life. Together they collected arrow points on their walks and together they mounted them in interesting and beautiful displays. Some of these displays can be seen in Mooney's shop.
Mooney's Shop
Speaking of shops, Mooney quickly set up his shop in the house, but having a shop in the dining room proved too much, even for Freida. The Warther family has a photo of Mooney's bench at that time. To stabilize it he had spiked it to the window frame and the spikes go right through Freida's lace curtains. This was certainly a test to Freida's perseverance.
So in 1912 he built a small shop at the edge of the property, on a bluff overlooking the Sugar Creek. It is a small 8' by 10' balloon frame building with large windows over the benches for good lighting and a slate roof. Mooney did everything himself from pouring the concrete, to making the door and hand forging the lock. A lock which he never used, because he trusted everyone. Even when Mooney was away people would often come and go from the shop admiring his work in the process. All the same Mooney felt a man's home was his castle and even more so his shop. So to be able to lock the door if one wanted to was important. He even put the pad lock from a German castle on the door - for its good looks and sturdy construction.
Mooney also terraced the hillside to build the shop and so it had a small cellar which was accessed through a trap door in the floor. It was here that he stored his wood. The shop had a fireplace for heat which doubled as a forge for knife making. With typical ingenuity, Mooney fashioned a bonnet over an iron grate. He would burn hard coal in the fireplace and the bonnet, in conjunction with the chimney, would give a natural draft for the forge. In cold weather the excess heat warmed the shop.
As you will note there is a large foot rail under the bench. This is actually a piece of 2" diameter cold rolled steel bar. Mooney always worked standing up, but he would rest one foot on this bar. He was against a shop stool because the constant up an down, moving it and tripping over it while fetching and replacing tools and material were a nuisance. He looked to the horse which always rests one leg. By keeping one foot or the other on the bar he could work indefatigably all day. Also of note in the photo is his "track lighting". Long before modern track lighting Mooney had a clever roller device to direct the beam of his green shaded bench lamp exactly where he needed it.
Mooney Stops Whittling and Starts Carving The Age of Steam
It was with the building of the shop, at age 28, that Mooney, in his own words, "stopped whittling and started carving." Thus began the great work of his life, carving the History of Steam. Mooney made a definite distinction here as he felt the plier trees, canes and such were whittling. His steam engines were carving. Mooney felt that the steam engine was one of the most wonderful inventions of all times. It had done more to advance civilization than any other invention, and with few exceptions had been used for peaceful purposes. The Age of Steam depicts the evolution of the steam engine in sixty-four models. It starts in 250 BC with Hero's Engine, and ends with the Big Boy Locomotive of 1941. In most cases Mooney obtained original construction blueprints to carve exact working replicas in a scale of 1/2" to the foot.
Mooney's first fifteen carvings are of bone and walnut. Once he could afford it, however he purchased ivory and ebony, so the remainder of his work is made from walnut, ebony and ivory. The majority of the walnut came from one walnut tree which Mooney and some friends harvested along the Tuscarawas River in 1913. He did use a good deal of walnut burl as well and most of this he found floating in the Tuscarawas River after a flood.
The use of ivory was normal at the turn of the Century. In fact most pool balls of this era were made from ivory and some of his first supplies of ivory were from pool balls that were no longer playable. Mooney had great reverence for the elephants and felt the use of ivory honored them. If Mooney were working today he would use bone or plastic for he had great reverence for the land and its living things.
The New York Central Tour
It was hard to keep Mooney's kind of genius secret. Over the years numerous articles and interviews were done with him. One such story appeared in the rotogravure section of the Cleveland Plain Dealer. Cleveland was a principal stop of the New York Central Railroad. The article caught the attention of New York Central executives, who persuaded Mooney to do a road show of his carvings promoting the New York Central. Mooney quit his job at the steel mill and went to work for the New York Central. So on the 8th of June 1923 Mooney left from Cleveland in a special traveling exhibit car. In the next six months he would visit all points of the New York Central line and three-quarters-of-a-million people would see his carvings. Mooney was the center of the traveling exhibit for he drew the crowd by telling stories, carving pliers and generally making it a "show". Once they reached New York City the carvings were put on display at Grand Central Station in New York City where an additional ten million people saw them. It was while at Grand Central Station that a group of Oberammergau carvers visited the exhibit. Oberammergau, Germany has been a center for fines quality passion carving for centuries. After examining the carvings they bestowed upon Mooney honorary title of World Master Carver. They said this was because he possessed mechanical genius as well as artistic ability. Mooney was putting himself, and Dover, Ohio on the map.
While the carvings were at Grand Central Station Mooney commuted back and forth to Dover. He would take each newly completed carving to Grand Central where it would be added, with great fanfare by the New York Central Railroad, to the display. A clause in Mooney's contract stated that he had to be allowed to return to Dover at least every three weeks. When asked why he wanted this clause by a New York Central lawyer Mooney replied, "because that is as much time man or beast can stand in New York City at one stretch."
On the 1st of January 1926 Mooney returned home from closing ceremonies of the Grand Central Exhibit. It had been a triumphant tour and he had seen many sights and millions of people. The culmination of the trip had been a tour of New York City. Mooney's comments on the Guggenheim Museum of Modern Art go down right behind Nikita Khrushchev's and Harry Truman's. Truman said, "none of those people could look Raphael in the eye." Khrushchev's and Mooney's remarks are unprintable.
The Golden Years
Freida and Mooney talked long and hard about what to do next. Although Mooney could have returned to the steel mill he decided not to. He predicted, rightly, that the old style hot rolling mill was two antiquated to survive much longer. It closed for ever in 1931. They mutually decided that Mooney should devote himself to carving and they would make a living by selling knives.
It should be added that the New York Central offered Mooney $50,000 for his carvings plus a yearly salary of $5000 per year. He declined it for he felt he would loose his artistic freedom. Later Henry Ford would offer even more and Mooney literally told Henry to go to Hell. Oddly, this only raised Ford's respect for Mooney.
So they settled down to their idyllic little piece of property with Mooney carving, Freida collecting buttons and mutually taking their nightly jaunts in quest of arrowheads. Mostly Mooney carved, but when they needed money he would make knives, mend a shotgun for someone, and so on. The years 1926 to 1929 were good years and their plan worked well. These were the golden years when Mooney was at the height of his artistic ability. It should be noted that Mooney was a great friend to children. They naturally gravitated to his shop - after all it was a child's dream palace. He had built a playground just below the shop which included a rope swing that swung out over the Calico Ditch. So in addition to Mooney's two boys and three girls there were always lots of neighborhood children. Always the raconteur, he would whittle things for them, recite Indian lore and organize afternoon swims in the Calico Ditch. He built a swing that swung far out over the Sugar Creek and even wrote and directed plays. When he completed a model he always put a time capsule in the tender. He would have the children present write things they wanted to includ and place them just under the coal.
The Depression Years
With the crash of 1929, however, things took a turn for the worse. In the years 1930 to 1933 he continued to carve but economically things were very tough. Still his work remained superb. In 1933 he completed the carving of his master work The Great Northern Locomotive. He was 48 years old, at his height and he brought all of his skill and experience to bear in this magnificent work. As you can see there are literally thousands of parts. Like all of the 64 models in The Age of Steam it is a actual working model.
With the carving of the Great Northern Locomotive economics forced Mooney to take a five year hiatus from carving. He was compelled to resurrect the idea of the Grand Central Railroad traveling show. Like the earlier show, he traveled from town to town, getting permission from the chief of police at each stop. Only this time he added a new twist! Calling on his years as a whittling herdsman, Mooney would work the crowd. Handing a stop watch to a comely lass he would show a pair of pliers and make his challenge. "If I cannot carve a pair of pliers within twenty seconds, I will carve a pair for everyone present - for free. If I can, I will carve a pair for anyone who wants a set for five cents." Coincidences of coincidences he always did it in fifteen seconds, or less, and ready customers stepped forth out of the crowd. He brought jars of nickels home from his sorties.
The First Museum
Freida had the dubious pleasure of acting as a museum curator, for all of Mooney's carvings decorated their house. Not only did she have to dust all of these "treasures", she had to tolerate anyone who stopped traipsing through her house/museum. Mooney reserved a portion of his plier money and in 1935 he was able to build a small brick building to house The Age of Steam and his other works. He dedicated it to his mother on Mother's Day. The 12' by 16' building stands to this day but in true irony it now houses Freida's button collection. In 1938 economic conditions had sufficiently improved that Mooney was able to moth ball the road show once again and return to carving.
World War II
In 1941 the United States entered World War II and Mooney took another hiatus from carving. During the War years he exclusively made Commando Knives for any serviceman who wanted one. He made about 1100 of these and they are credited with being in every major campaign the United States fought. Each was hand forged, had a comfortable fighting grip, and a large pommel. Each had the serviceman's name stamped on a brass escutcheon inset in the cocobolo handle. The sheath was of copper and aluminum.
The materials for these knives is a story in itself. In a bizarre reverse lend-lease, the steel was actually English steel, given to him by the owner of The Canton Cutlery Company after it burned down. Mooney was very patriotic and always used American steel if he could, but American Steel was not to be had. The aluminum came home in the lunch buckets of aircraft factory workers who knew that reallocating this material to Mooney would at worst boost the morale of a local boy at the front and at best save his life. The copper was a gift of the local chief of police. The Dover area was notorious for "moonshining", the making of illegal whiskey. He raided a still one day and the "seized evidence" found it's way to Mooney's shop for Mooeyshine knives.
On V-J Day Freida burst into the shop with the jubilant news. Mooney placed the freshly forged blank from the knife he was working on at the time in a bench drawer, where it remains to this day. Being a Swiss he enjoyed beer and it was with this he celebrated V-J Day. And celebrate he did. As his son, Dave Warther, told me during this interview, "boy, could Pop celebrate."
Mooney Completes The Age of Steam
After the war Dave Warther came home and joined his older brother Tom in the knife business. Mooney continued to carve and in 1953, at age 68, he completed his 64th and final model in The Age of Steam, the Big Boy Locomotive. This was also the year that the American railroad system was officially declared "dieselized". Mooney declared that he would never carve a diesel locomotive, even if he lived to be 1000.
Although Mooney and Freida had run a museum of sorts since 1936, it was son Dave, who in 1954 encouraged Mooney to think beyond the 12' by 16' brick building. In 1957 he also encouraged his father to start carving again. Since completing The Age of Steam, Mooney had been busy but lacked the direction he had during the carving of his 64 steam engines. Since he refused to carve diesels, Dave sold him on the idea of Great Moments In The History of Steam. Mooney liked the idea and at age 72 started this great work.
Great Moments In The History of Steam
Mooney was a great admirer of Abraham Lincoln. Any time he was away from carving for any extended period of time he would start by carving something connected with Lincoln. Therefore, the first carving in his Great Events series was the Nashville Engine which had pulled the Lincoln Funeral Train on its final leg from Cleveland, Ohio to Springfield, Illinois. Much of the Great Events series is carved completely in ivory. This had been an ambition of Mooney's and now that he was collecting Social Security it was a reality. He much preferred a tusk of ivory to money in the bank. In fact the tusk was money in the bank to Mooney.
At age 80 Mooney carved another of his great works, the Lincoln Funeral Train. As you can see in my photo, it is carved of ebony and ivory with mother of pearl accents. Lincoln can be seen lying in state in his coffin through the window.
The Warther Museum Today
In 1963, with the dedication of a building, Dave Warther was able to realize his dream of a museum dedicated to his father's work. For many years his father was the centerpiece of this Museum. He worked on his Great Events series, carved pliers for visitors and generally enjoyed life. He died in 1973 at age 87 leaving his last work, The Lady Baltimore, unfinished. This was just as he wanted it, "he died with his boots on."
The museum has gone through several expansions since Mooney's death. A visitor enters into a commodious lobby area, the corner of which dovetails to Mooney's original shop. You can look through a Dutch door and see Mooney's working area just as he left it. In writing this story I have spent considerable time in this space for Mooney speaks to me through his shop. As I explore Mooney's shop I can feel him talk to me as I touch, poke and feel. It is truly synergistic. As a craftsman I know that he was a master craftsman.
Today three of Dave's four sons, Mark, Dale and, Dan have joined him in the family cutlery business. It should be added Dave Sr. and his three boys and two girls all carve to some degree or another.
Side Bar on Knives
The Warther family make a splendid line of cutlery. The best selling is their kitchen cutlery, but they also make superb carving, hunting and presentation knives. Work in the knife shop can be viewed through a window in the downstairs area of the museum. The knives are available in the Gift Shop or by mail order.
A good kitchen knife is thin and flexible, holds a good edge, will not rust and has a comfortable handle that is unaffected by dish washers. Warther knives are all of these things. They are made from 440C stainless steel, which in addition to holding a superlative edge will never rust. Handles are from resin impregnated birch wood affixed with stainless steel culture's rivets. They will stand repeated dish washing without problems. The sides of each blade are decorated with a distinctive circular pattern called "engine turning." The result is a kitchen knife that is a joy to use for a lifetime.
Side Bar: How Could Have Mooney Done All This Work On His Own?
Visitors to the museum can often be heard debating how Mooney Warther could have done the incredible volume of work displayed at the museum on his own. The fact is he did carve all of this work and it was accomplished one day at a time one carving at a time. Only once did Mooney have two carvings going and that was when he carved the Lindbergh cane while working on the ?? locomotive. He said he would never do it again for, "working with two carvings is like running with two women. It never works!"
Mooney worked before television and if you took the three to five hours of television the average person watches each and every day and devoted it to carving the output would be impressive. It was more than this, however. Mooney worked with a singleness of purpose. As he put it, "your mind guides the hands in shaping the medium, but your mind is always one jump ahead of your hands. Thus you never pause for an instant to wonder what to do next. When you don't know what to do next, get the Hell out of the shop. Play with the kids, have a beer, build a stone terrace wall, anything. It will come back to you and when you go back to work it will flow again." Son Dave puts it well, "this man worked in a beautiful flow that never stopped. He balanced great speed with tremendous quality, but he never seemed to be in a hurry. He always had time to talk to you."
Additionally Freida and Mooney were content to live within their means. Again in the words of Dave, "mom wanted no more of the luxuries of life than pop did." The Grand Central Tour had allowed them to pay their house, shop and property off, so they were free from debt and the need to come up with interest payments. They thereafter avoided debt and went without what they could not afford.
A work day was not from nine, rather they got up early and worked late. Mooney also worked in intensive bursts. If a creative impulse struck he might work far into the night, then rest for a day by making knives or doing other work. In fact, when you consider the hard depression years and the war years, where did not carve at all, there could have been much more.