My dad was a wood carver. Actually, he would say he was a whittler but he had progressed way beyond that.
As happens with many prolific artists, their work has a way of flying out the door until, suddenly, when it's too late, the family realizes there isn't enough left to go around.
This was the case with my dad's carvings. They were purchased by major organizations, sold at state fairs, shipped to gift shops, and given to friends and neighbors who stopped by and admired a piece.
My youngest brother was recently notified that a carving would be included in an estate auction in West Virginia. He and my sister-in-law arrived early and spotted the black bear you see above. The auctioneer finally held it up and said, "I understand this was carved by a local artist. I don't happen to know his name but it is marked with the initials H.B. and dated 1971." From the other side of the big tent, a male voice replied, "The artist was Harley Burns." Try as he might, my brother could not see who had made the statement.
Bidding started with four or five people, then fewer and fewer until it reached the $100 mark with just my brother and the unidentified male on the other side of the tent still bidding. The other person dropped out and Dad's black bear was proudly reclaimed by our family.
But that's not the end of the story.
A little later, the man appeared in front of my sister-in-law who was holding the bear on her lap. "Did you happen to know the gentleman who carved that piece?" he asked. "Yes, I did," she replied. "He was my father-in-law and this is his son."
As it turned out, the other bidder was the son of a couple who had been longtime friends of our parents. He apologized for running up the bid but said he was determined that a dealer would not gain possession of Dad's carving. He related that, when he was married, our dad carved a heart for him and his new wife with their names and the date on it. It is still one of their treasured possessions. It is exactly the kind of thing Dad would have done.
To her delight, my brother gave Dad's only granddaughter the black bear for her birthday - from our dad, to him, to his daughter. What could be more fitting?
As happens with many prolific artists, their work has a way of flying out the door until, suddenly, when it's too late, the family realizes there isn't enough left to go around.
This was the case with my dad's carvings. They were purchased by major organizations, sold at state fairs, shipped to gift shops, and given to friends and neighbors who stopped by and admired a piece.
My youngest brother was recently notified that a carving would be included in an estate auction in West Virginia. He and my sister-in-law arrived early and spotted the black bear you see above. The auctioneer finally held it up and said, "I understand this was carved by a local artist. I don't happen to know his name but it is marked with the initials H.B. and dated 1971." From the other side of the big tent, a male voice replied, "The artist was Harley Burns." Try as he might, my brother could not see who had made the statement.
Bidding started with four or five people, then fewer and fewer until it reached the $100 mark with just my brother and the unidentified male on the other side of the tent still bidding. The other person dropped out and Dad's black bear was proudly reclaimed by our family.
But that's not the end of the story.
A little later, the man appeared in front of my sister-in-law who was holding the bear on her lap. "Did you happen to know the gentleman who carved that piece?" he asked. "Yes, I did," she replied. "He was my father-in-law and this is his son."
As it turned out, the other bidder was the son of a couple who had been longtime friends of our parents. He apologized for running up the bid but said he was determined that a dealer would not gain possession of Dad's carving. He related that, when he was married, our dad carved a heart for him and his new wife with their names and the date on it. It is still one of their treasured possessions. It is exactly the kind of thing Dad would have done.
To her delight, my brother gave Dad's only granddaughter the black bear for her birthday - from our dad, to him, to his daughter. What could be more fitting?
After more than thirty-five years, a family treasure has come home.
