WDH Danny Hamsley

[Jeff]

I know watcha mean.

[Texas Ranger]

How is Ann coping?

[Bruno of NH]

He was always the one who wished me the first happy birthday on FF
I'm missed it this year

[B.C.C. Lapp]

They are not gone who live in the hearts they leave behind.

[Jeff]

The Custom Sawyer's Sawmill Project. Music from the Porch in Georgia. The Lost tapes. - YouTube

There might be some repeat clips in there, but I was willing to watch twice.

[tule peak timber]

Just thinking about a conversation, we had at Jakes in 2019. I'm smiling...

[customsawyer]

He sure enjoyed the projects. His mind was like a steel trap and he would remember things about them that no one else would.

[sandhills]

Haven't been around much lately but while browsing through the tree id threads I got a terrible feeling, may he RIP, and may God watch over his family and loved ones, wished I've gotten to met him.

[Peter Drouin]

I never met him. Just talking on here, The thing that got me was, how smart he was. If I could remember half of what he knew, I'd have something. RIP Mr Hamsley.

[Sixacresand]

We stopped at the place WDH used to display his impressive wood stuff at the Peaches to Beaches Yard Sale.  He lived just down a narrow road, where we drove down and saw the sign and manicured rows of  pine trees.  


   

[customsawyer]

Great picture Six. It put a lump in my throat thinking back to planting those trees for him. Any that would like a great read there is a thread in the forestry section here I think the title is "Establishing a pine plantation". I'm not computer smart enough to put up a link to it but maybe someone can help on here. It will give some others a look at how much he loved his little piece of the world.

[thecfarm]

Establishing a pine plantation

A very nice thread.

[doc henderson]

what is the image at the bottom og the sign.

[Sixacresand]

what is the image at the bottom og the sign.

I worried about the privacy thing so I scratch through the street number.  It probably didn't make any difference since he was known worldwide through the Forum and his web site.  

[doc henderson]

I have not seen the sign.  someone mentioned they wished they had a pic.  so I thought it might have been a special image.

[Magicman]

That sign/driveway goes to Danny's sawmill, etc.  The driveway to his home was from another road.  We walked from the home to the sawmill, but it was actually a nice wide path not intended to be regularly driven on.

[customsawyer]

Thanks Cfarm.

[Resonator]

The "Establishing a pine plantation" thread is well worth a look, or another look if you haven't read it in a while. The thread spans 14 years, and shows the passing of time through the growth of the trees. But more importantly gives insight into the patience and vision Danny had to grow a "crop" that takes decades to mature and harvest; and the legacy he leaves behind.

The neat thing to me is that this site was originally an old field, then planted by me in 1987, then harvested in 2016, and now replanted in 2017.  So, I have seen one entire rotation on this site and have started a second one.  Maybe I can hang on to see this new stand thinned before my time expires  .

[Okrafarmer]

I'm sorry to hear this.
I believe I met Danny once.
He's one of those whose loss is so profound, yes, because of his human personality, but also because of his incredible knowledge.
:-\

[Stephen Alford]

   This is sad news indeed , my sincere condolences to the entire forestry forum family .

[customsawyer]

I got to thinking of Danny this morning. I was reading a post on here about capacitors on an electric motor and a memory came back, making me laugh. As most of you know I run external hyd. packs on both of my sawmills. One time on the extended mill I was having trouble with the electric motor that drives the hyd. pump. I had to replace one of the capacitors to get it up and running again. About 10 min. after replacing it Danny had called and I was bitching about having to play electrician. Thinking he was about to learn some new technical information or another big word, Ole Danny started asking questions about how did I know which one to replace. In my most sincere and intelligent voice I explained that I went for the one that was smoking. We both got a good laugh out of that one. 

[doc henderson]

That is good plan unless the new one smokes too as soon as you try to turn it on!  

[GAB]

Letting the smoke out of electrical/electronic components is never good.
GAB

[2x2Designs]

Hello everyone,

I have been a reader here for a decent bit, but never made an account or posted. While I am just a woodworker, the information you all provide and the materials for those who mill lumber is a gift that many woodworkers do not understand. 

But while the gift of milling hardwoods for the first time over construction lumber is something I think many woodworkers will never forget, I think it is people you met in that journey that are the real joy. Danny was, and now always will be, one of those people.

While I am only in my mid 20's, I do not believe that age is the "be all" metric it is always made out to be. I hope what follows can be encouraging for those who Danny better than I did, and should any family read this, know the blessing Danny was to me. I know this very long, I hope this does not break any rules. Please pardon the format as I am trying to make this readable, while still keeping a paragraph structure.



When speaking with my dad a few days ago, I listened to an update about his day, what's been going on, things of that nature. He had just met with an old acquaintance, someone who worked at my childhood church and knew me, when noticed a large amount of some nice pine slabs in his truck. 

Cue what I believe ever father does, my dad starts talking about me and all the many projects and hobbies I seem to find myself in. 

In that conversation, my dad brings up a kitchen table I made for my wife. Hard Maple top some with beautiful grain, tiger striping that only came out after finishing it, butterfly inlays with some Ipe, square 4in legs from some very tiger stripped maple and a nice ambrosia maple runner on the bottom to tie them together. This project was, without a doubt, the most complicated thing I have every made, and the nicest. I learned how to work a jointer, install dominos, sharpen chisels, create hand made mortise and tenons, the list goes on. This table means something to me.


While the table looks pretty nice, but it was also a neat thing to create because most of the wood was purchased from "Mr. Hamsley", who I meet when I was a kid. 


Seeing the wood in the back of the truck, and my father being handy enough to assemble a Lego set by only messing up on every other step, he asked where they got the wood from. He assumed they got it from Danny because over the years, I told him about what a blessing it was to have someone so close as there was nobody else I knew of within an hour that had hardwoods. This was also a blessing for him because that meant he didn't have to drive far whenever I asked for some help. 

The gentleman's face soured as he said, "nah, we had drive almost an hour south for these". My father chirps up with delight as he knew of a great resource close by! "Oh man, you should check out that place as you're going towards Hawkinsville! All that stuff I showed you my son made was milled there!" 

Little did my father know that was an important detail to add. 

"You mean Hamsley's? Out off the church in Hinesville?", the acquaintance ask. "Yes!", my father excitedly proclaims.

"Oh, he passed away last fall", the man remarked. 

My father protested it as I had just gotten some wood from Danny just last fall. Though he knew about Danny, he had only met him maybe a couple of times almost a decade before so the name did not immediately register. Hoping that it was a mix-up in names, he pressed back but it was clear that after some back and forth, they were talking about the same person. My dad did not want to call me.

Minutes before I was calling in to a meeting with a potential client for a large job, my father calls me and tells me news. I did not know what to say, but as I went to ask more questions, the client calls. 

After the meeting, I began to research and found this forum. I read through all 13 pages with some wet eyes and a heavy heart. There's a potential that during some of my excursions out there that I even came across some people from this very forum there. I learned even more about Danny than ever knew, and hope that even what I say can provide that for others. 





This back story as to how to learned about his passing an important detail. You see, I grew up about 15 minutes away from Danny.  I got into woodworking when I was around 11 years old, but potentially even younger. While most kids asked for bike, game console, or a cell phone at 11 (I did not get one for 2 more years), I asked for a miter saw. Nobody in my family was builder, carpenter, or anything of the sorts. My great grandfather's on both sides, Great Pappa and Pappaw, did some woodworking for fun, but never as their job. But long since had the time passed since they could get back into the shop. 

Great Pappa had already essentially passed before I was a teen, though Alzheimer's did not allow the mercy of Heaven for him for far too many years later. But for a few years, while his mind was still there, fighting to share the memories that time can never take away, I would hear stories about him and what he would build, as well as, what my great uncle would build. Though all these stories were just that, stories. Never ones I got to fully see.

But when it came to my other great granddad, Pappaw, his mind was still sharp for most of his life. Like most kids, I walked the well trodden, and later to be, regretful path of having to be "dragged" to my grandparents house to spend time with them. What did their house have that was better than what I had at home? After all, while I spent much of my time as kid playing with neighborhood friends and exploring the woods, I still had my fair share of some video games. 

After much begging, sometimes forcing, my Mother could drag me and my sister there. Looking back, it was wonderland that I was too blind to see. I learned how to sew, cook, explored their garden, and more. But there was one place that always beckoned me: his shop. 



Long since cared for, with a door that had been broken down by thieves more times than I can count, I would explore this building like a spelunking miner looking for gold. With only a single hanging bulb working, most of it was traversed with the old classic Coleman flashlight, complete with enough D batteries to beat a man. 

Papaw would show me tools, covered in dust. Explain what this does, what that's for, all these little devices and shinny things. Looking back, I wonder if he even knew what some of them were because I am pretty sure some of the tool names were made up. 

Though I was child, as I grew old, some of these tools were able to leave the shop and regain their purpose for the first time in many years. Each trip over there, I'd leave with a "new", and far too dull and rusted, hand saw, file, hammer, sand paper, and more. OSHA would not approve and frankly, I agree as all them were more dangerous for being dull than they ever would have been sharp. 

This exploration opened a side of me that I did not know I had. While I was a "tinker-er" as kid, building Lego sets right way the first time only to take it apart to invent something else later, woodworking provided a new avenue for me: Creation. 




I got to take something and build whatever I wanted! There was only one issue. See, I could get Lowe's to cut down plywood for me, I was given box after box of nails to bind boards together, but when it came to cutting down a 2x4, the handsaw just wasn't cutting it. I do literally mean that as I was given a 30tpi rusted 4in hacksaw for metal that I essentially would just friction burn my way through wood sitting on the deck or in the grass.

After many months of watching a truly astronomical amount of woodworking YouTube videos and plenty of Norm Abram (thanks ADHD) instead of doing my homework, I learned a lot about what I was doing wrong, and what I needed to do it right: A 10" blade spinning at a few thousand RPM power by some angry pixies. 



Needless to say, 10-11 year old me had to get my inner "you can't handle the truth" on, when summoning my parents to my hearings for this saw. Until one Christmas morning, I saw it: a 10" Skill Miter Saw. I thought I was given the keys to a Rolls Royce. 

Fast forward and the saw needed a home, which needed a workbench, which needed a place to go, which meant we would "only have to park 1 car outside", which meant I could get larger tools like a table saw, planer, and bandsaw, which then meant I needed an assembly table but it can be on wheels so I can only move the other car outside whenever I did a project. As you all probably already know, I gained an extra "room" in the house. 

During this time, projects went from benches to furniture, reclaiming pallets to planters, and 12-13 year old me was going to local shops trying to sell stuff I made. I think they paid me to leave and not for the stuff. 

But as the months passed, I was becoming less and less a fan of the big box special "pine, pine, and more pine". All the woodworkers I watched used Rift Sawn Oak, or Birdseye Maple, slabs of Walnut, inlays with Ipe, accents with Purple Heart and Ebony. While I wanted to use these, they uh "don't grow on trees" here in south Georgia. 

Luckily, my dad, doing again what dad's do best, oh so fatefully was sharing about what I had been building. But luckily, they knew of a new resource. A guy out in Hinesville that sells hardwoods. "You should take him out to Hamsley's Hardwoods!" 

My dad came home from work and the rest is history. 




He drove me out to this house and though we saw the sign, we were a bit apprehensive if this was the right place, and if it was safe. But as we pulled in, there in the yard, was about a 36" Oak just laying in the driveway. I think we were in the right place. 

Danny came out to met us. I was all of maybe 13-14 years old, with just enough sense to talk a little shop and share what I wanted. Danny had other plans and could sense my excitement and probably my nerves about wanting to seem knowledgeable and not stupid. He asked if we were in rush and though, moments before in the car my dad mentions how he does not want to spend all day here and this a "get what you need and go" operations, I chimed in quickly "nope, no rush". Just doing my job as a son. 


Danny gives me the tour. Shows me all the mills, how it's cut, what the different cuts are and what they mean. He shows different woods, how they have been processed. He explained grain, showed me different patterns and things he had made. Soon, our morning trip was being stolen by the setting evening sun. I told Danny what I wanted: some 8/4 walnut and maple. 


He took us inside and sat as I picked out boards. He quoted me the price and my heart sunk. This was no longer $3 2x4 pricing. I only had $100 that I got for my birthday and so I had to pour through the boards, finding one with right width and length as to not have too many board feet that I could not afford it. After a unstacking 7-8 pieces, I found one and he measured and it gave me the price. It was a lot lower and fit in the budget! He said "oh this stuff out here is not the best so I wont count it in the measurement". I still have some of this wood. The wood was fine, Danny was just helping a kid out. 

After cleaning the mess I made and Danny doing the same little trick for some walnut, we prepared to leave. I just had one issue: this was rough lumber. Danny asked what tools I had and remarked "how do you plan on getting it flat and square?" Well, I fixed many a problem (and created many more) with a belt sander and 60 grit, so I figured that would work here too. 

That wasn't good enough for Danny. 

Danny takes us to large roll up door and as it opens, I thought I was looking to heaven. All the large tools I saw online, suddenly before my eyes. He takes the wood I have, joints it and planes it, but left the straight line rip for me. "Can't do it all for you, now can I", Danny remarked. 

I noticed in the corner, that there was a large pile of wood but it was not neatly stacked. I asked him what that was he tells me it's scrap that they burn. Well that ain't scape to me! 

So Danny lets me rummage through this pile and take what I needed, and then also threw in some warped cookies of oak and a board of pecan.

I left a very happy camper. 



This project allowed me to make 5 cutting boards that I sold for a decent profit and I while I could have more boards, there was one piece of maple I really liked and did not want to use yet. So, off I went back to Danny's. 

As the years passed, my shop expanded, moved to my grandfathers old horse barn, and continued to grow until soon, high school passed and college came. 

The summer leading up to college, I did a lot of building and selling, making trips to Danny for more wood. I was trying to bank as much money as I could, while work 70 hour weeks on a blackberry farm in a record heat summer. But soon, the week arrived and I had to leave for school. 

I locked up the shop but during that first semester, would still stop by if I needed something made. Christmas came and gifts were made, all from Danny's supply and as I prepared for spring semester to start, I got quite a few complements on what I had made and I really thought about coming home more often to build. But, I locked the shop up and left for what I thought would have been a few weeks.

6 years passed before I came back.



College came and went. Though I had an entrepreneurial spirit and had "started a business" as a kid, it is a little hard to move an entire woodshop into a dorm room. But I made it up with 3D printers and other hobbies. During this time, I started two companies that I still run today. Woodworking was still a part of me and I would relish the chance to do it again, but only could share it with others in stories 

After school, I stayed in town a couple years working while my then girlfriend, now blessing of a wife, finished nursing school. I would tell her stories about growing up building things, show her photos or videos of some of my creations. Without fail, every holiday my grandfather would show anyone who came the furniture I made in house there and in the mountains. But my favorite thing was when someone who had one of my cutting boards would come because then, I could share about hardwoods and Danny. 

Remnants of my first love were found in these projects, tools still scattered in the garage and workbenches that had become catch-all's, all these told parts of the tales I shared. But soon, a new option approached.


 When me and my wife were engaged, we found a house for rent. But, not just a house, but a house with a garage. Not only this, but this garage was decently beat up and needed to be repaired and painted. So, with some much improved skills in persuasion, I asked my landlord if I could put a shop in here if I fix the walls when we move out. 

He gave a dangerous answer: Yes



Full steam ahead did my wheels go. Like my childhood explorations in my pappaws shop, I ventured back to my old shop after so many years where I used to spend days and nights alone, working on projects. This time, I was not alone. 


After many attempts to find the right key, suddenly on the last keyring, we made the right selection. The door swung open to dark room except this time, I could cut on lights. There was my old shop. My fiancé and I, with my dad and grandfather in tow, slowly cleaned years of dust, wiped down mold from where water had gotten in, and inventoried what I had, more sadly, what all was ruined. At some point, my grandfather told me, the door had come open when he came down to the barn to get some backup animal feed. Though he shut the door, for months or years, it had been an open home to bugs and animals, and rain could easily blow in. 

Most of the shop was a hazmat zone from dust and goat poop. Except in one area, in tightly sealed box, was all the wood I had as a kid. Though much of the shop was ruined, all this was perfectly spared. 

Trip after trip, we prepared the shop to be moved and I could feel my old desires coming alive again. Though sputtering to life, I felt alive in this process. Tools were cleaned, benches were fixed, shop projects were made, my 1980's Craftsman Table Saw that I restored purred to life for the first time in too long. 

But throughout this process, I was excited for one thing. I kept repeating to my family, my fiancé, and friends who knew me growing up the same thing: I can't wait to go to Mr. Hamsley's. 

I moved into our house a few months before we got married and prepared it for us to move in. That included getting the shop into some semblance of something passable. As fall approached and we settled in to married life, we had a persistent issue: we don't have a table. 

Being the woodworker I am, I could not stand to pay the COVID prices for a cardboard table, and could not afford the COVID prices for a real one. So, I told my wife I would make her one and that meant one thing: going to see Mr. Hamsley. 



I was not sure, after all these years had passed, what the best way to contact him again was. So I pulled up the contact I still had and gave him a rang. I introduced myself and we chatted for bit after I jogged his memory of when I was kid. I tried to set up a time to meet as I lived 2 hours from him, but the weather was not behaving. Weeks passed until we could set a time to meet. But one Saturday, I got to go back to where it really all started. 

You see, had Danny not cut me a deal all those years before, I would have never made the money I needed to get the tools I wanted in order to grow my shop and I probably would have stopped woodworking for a very long time. I took my wife through the halls I walked over decade before. Showed her where the various stories she knew occurred and started to search for the lumber we wanted. But oh so fitting, did the story play out. 

Though cost was less of an issue, there were a few tools I did not have. As me and Danny went though stacks of maple to find good pieces for the top and legs I wanted, the cost constraints of a newly married couple became more real. 

Several of the boards were perfect, but either too long or were going to be wasted in milling panels for a top. So, like Danny did before, out came the track saw and we milled the pieces to be useable sizes to save on cost. During the downtime, I learned more and more about what had transpired in his life over the those years I had not visited. The hard times and struggles that I will not share here, but the hope and gentleness he handled them with was encouraging for me and my wife. 

Hours passed as we listened to Danny and provided an open set of ears to hear. Soon, evening had come and gone and night was pressing on. We loaded the wood, I exchanged a small stack of dead Presidents. I told Danny I was happy to see him and looking forward to coming down more often. 

Danny sighed and said "I don't know how much longer I will doing this. I don't have as much help as I need and I am getting old." As someone who never turns down a chance to help and learn, I offered to come down and help during Thanksgiving or Christmas to help. It would be a great experience for me. 

Danny kindly accepted and told me to be sure to send him photos of the table when I finished it. My wife and I spoke a little longer with him about some of things he mentioned, and then headed off. 



A couple months passed before table top was done. Work and life just got in the way. All that was left were the legs, but the plans for legs changed. The once planned metal legs become wooden, and their style too was soon changed. After checking the boards, I did not think this was an issue. Over a couple weeks, I milled it all up and started making the feet and runners. Progress was slow but steady and I completed one leg to confirm the design with the wife. With all green lights, I started on the other leg but disaster stuck. 

When laying out the final leg, the truly final piece of the project, I realized I made a mistake and used what was meant to be the leg for the 2nd piece as part of the foot on the first. I remember when doing the foot, wondering why one piece was a little longer but figured it was the just leftover and planned on milling them to size after the glue up anyways. 

So, seemingly out of wood, I prepped to drive two hours to middle Georgia to get some wood from Danny. I wanted it all to match and he had quite a bit from that single tree I got mine from. 

But as I thought of what to do, an idea hit me: Don't I have a decent size piece of 8/4 maple that I bought from Danny the first time? I remember saving it, but never used part of it because it had beautiful grain that would be wasted in the end grain cutting boards I made at the time. 

I went through the wood I had and grabbed the piece to measure it. It had 1/8" to spare, and though cut from a tree a decade before, matched perfectly. 


I finished the whole assembly on the week of September 18th. During this time, I was designing a roll of roof observatory in my backyard and travel for work was picking up. I was at a cross road: I could apply finish to table that week and have it done by the 19-20th, or wait a couple weeks for when work was going to slow down and I could CAD in the meantime to prepare for the build. My wife  mentioned that since we don't have chairs yet, just let it sit and we can finish it later. 

So, I waited to apply finish until very end of September. 



While I was excited to show my wife and family, I would be lying if I said I was not excited to show Danny. Almost a "look, I have come full circle from some kid making cutting boards to something actually nice". I applied the final coat of Rubio Monocote on Friday, October 1st left town for work and to give it a few days to cure before the "big reveal"

I snapped a photo on the morning of October 3rd, 2022, and first person I sent it to was Danny. I was excited to hear what he would say. I did not know that chance had passed.

As days moved forward, I honestly got a little sad. I was proud and wanted him to see it. I can't explain why, because I had plenty of affirmations from those around me. There was just something nagging at me and wanting to see what he thoughts. 

A few other projects came up and I called to see if I could schedule a time to get some wood, but never heard anything. So, I searched for new place supplier. The place I found was nothing compared to what Danny had.

I had mentioned this to a few friends of mine and commented how I was very shocked to not hear back. Me and my wife just assumed it was due to some of the aforementioned things he spoke to us about. But I moved on.




And now we are here, after a very long story. While the post might seem as if I have spoken more about myself than I have Danny, that could not be further from the truth. I am who I am, in no small part, because of what Danny did so long ago. A small act of kindness changed me and enabled me to pursue a dream, start 3 business, and help serve many people with this gift God has given me, and so much more. Every part of what I wrote after that first meeting would have never happened. Danny's fingerprints are all over each one of those years.



As wise man once wrote in pretty well known book, "It has been appointed for man to die once.." and my paraphrase for what follows is that after death, for some, joy is to follow. 

No matter how much money you have, knowledge you retain, looks you flaunt, status you create, or skills you posses, you cannot steal what is given when someone lives a genuine life that has an impact of those around them. It stands the test of time and creates change the can last generations. Had Danny never cut me deal, I might would have never done woodworking again. But because he did, my life is changed, my families are changed, and my children will have the chance to learn this same hobby.

Much like this interest or hobby or job we all share, felling a tree is not the final chapter. A fallen tree, though no longer alive, is now used for the good of those around it. Danny did that and I believe that is something we can all strive to be like. 

I find very fitting that the table I poured myself into was only able to be completed with that original piece of wood I got from Danny. 

We all come into this world looking like our parents, but we leave it looking like our choices. Danny made a very good choice over 15 years ago, I only hope I can steward it well so the same can be said about me. 

[thecfarm]

Now that's a story about 2 men that love wood!!!!
Now it's your turn to help out a young boy that loves wood.