Everything about Pat Haire’s workshop tells a story, of past, present and future. “I WAS always a maker,” Haire said of his earlier years. SOMETHING HAS been lost in translation between antique craftsmanship and modern workmanship, Haire said, and his work is somewhere in between. HAIRE has seen success over the years, not only from luck, but from perseverance. HE SAID a customer was sitting in her kitchen, admiring a cabinet he had made for her, she couldn’t help but acknowledge the details and personality of the piece.
Etches on equipment built and patented in the late 19th century invoke a feeling of stepping into the past. Knickknacks clutter the walls and close in its space, catching light from the clouded windows facing the Humboldt square. Sawdust, curling in all sizes and shapes, collects underneath tabletops and on top of wooden desks basted in the aroma of a different era.
The collection of his woodworking machines are the main focus of his massive 2,500-square-foot shop. On top of these iron giants are ornate wooden tops Haire has crafted so the machines may be used once again. It bridges the gap between two times with detail and craftsmanship. This is where he creates.
“Making a living as a woodworker in a modern machine shop was not fun. The final product may be awesome, but the process wasn’t fun,” Haire said. Any artist you talk to will probably say it’s the process they live for, the final product could be forgotten the day after delivery.”
It took this realization for Haire to commit to a life of “the process,” building, crafting, repairing, renovating and restoring. At his Neosho Valley Woodworks he uses only machines crafted in the old style. His most modern piece of equipment is a band saw from 1915, all of the others were made prior to the 20th century.
On a cold Thursday afternoon, Haire sat down in the back corner of his shop to discuss his craft, and share his views on the modern idea of quality — what it means and what it meant.
He began working with wood, making things, at a young age. He put himself through college — Allen Community College and Emporia State University — by playing music. Ironically enough, he was inducted into the Kansas Music Hall of Fame because of his work with The Common Few, a band out of Chanute.
There is no Kansas Woodworkers Hall of Fame.
“Contemporary modern architecture was not something I was interested in,” he said.
He never completed his degree at ESU, and began making cabinets in southeast Kansas. The catalyst for a career in woodworking was simple, he wanted to build himself a house. So at 27, he did just that.
In the 1980s, Haire purchased the Iola Planing Mill and began to restore its equipment, which he eventually sold to a museum in Wichita. It was at this point during the discussion he began to use the word “evolution.” Something switched in his mind, he didn’t want to be mass-producing modern cabinets.
He and his younger brother, Mike, began teaching themselves to use the old equipment. Slowly but surely, they began replacing their new machines with older machines, one by one. His shop would be one of detail, fine quality and the style of an artisan.
“I was determined to find out if there was a market,” he said. “There was a demand for it.”
Now, Haire spends his time restoring older homes to their original quality, sometimes imitating woodwork and other times re-imagining it. He specializes in everything from custom molding and decor, to furniture, cabinets and shutters. He said it’s a career that is always teaching him new things; he learns from new projects.
“If it’s been done before, you can do it,” Haire said. “If it hasn’t been done, don’t you think you should be the one to do it?”
His work is functional, but also art; it is old, but also new; it is beautiful, but also efficient. He walked around his shop, pointing out all of the intricacies of the machines he has gathered throughout the years. His entire workspace is laced with rubber-impregnated cotton belts, creating a moving web of parts and pieces when the machines are turned on.
By a simple push of a belt, driven by a motor, Haire can engage or disengage the gears of a machine. He has doubles and even triplicates of machines — lathes, drills and bandsaws — set up in different forms to create the effect he is looking for in the shortest amount of time. Like aging wine in an oak cask, Haire said the workspace and machinery create an “indescribable quality” to the work. Machines built in the 19th century had no uniform regulations across the board, and each machine had its own idiosyncrasy. But make no mistake, it all depends on the user.
“These machines, to me, are like glorified hand tools,” he said, they give him “the privilege for creation,” as he described it. “It’s amazing what the standard was, I think that’s what attracts me to this, is the attention to detail.”
He went on to describe the feeling a finished product.
“There’s an effect of a historical interior,” he said. “If it fits the house, it feels like it has always been there.”
“It’s not that everybody can’t do it, but they won’t do it,” he said of his style of work. “I just couldn’t find the ability to not make a living.”
He traveled the country putting together his shop — it was built in 1866, and is one of the oldest buildings in Allen County — and his products have seen their fair share of states as well.
He said when the recession hit, there was a “brutal” lull in business. But, his connections in the area have served him well. He has no website, and does not advertise. Haire said he has enough demand as it is, and he is the only one putting out his products. He described himself as a “well-kept secret” in the area.
His customers have come to demand the quality and durability that he can produce in his shop, and they always keep him on his toes.
“They want a great deal of subtlety, or they want it ratcheted up to be much bolder,” he said. “It took 40 years to be able to perform.”
And performing with his customers is the most important part. Every project he works on is done closely with the customer. He will even travel to the place that inspired them, to get the closest idea as to what they want.
“Sometimes a customer will simply ask me, ‘why do I like this so much,’” he said, which reflects back to the indescribable quality. “I’m forced to make a creative solution. My business life is also my social life.”
At 62, Haire has no plans of retiring anytime soon. The knowledge he has gathered throughout the years is priceless, and it is growing every day. He had the opportunity to share some of his knowledge with a group of students who he worked with at Colorado Mountain College. He studied and taught there for three years, returning in 2010. They worked in his shop with him to make specialized shutters for a historical restoration project in Leadvillie, Colo.
“My fingerprints are on every set of these cabinets, which is basically saying that I have been over every part of this, from the pile of lumber to cutting it into pieces, to assembling the pieces to sanding the pieces down,” he said.
She called him back a few days later and said, “I found one of your fingerprints.”
He had accidentally left a stained fingerprint on the inside of one of the doors, technically an imperfection, he said.
She didn’t seem to mind.
THOUGHTS ON QUALITY-Haire’s life work beckons to a rare form of craftsmanship
