Here’s and exert from our latest newsletter

.Wine Oak Barn Door Inspiration
Building doors is a large percentage of work that come through the shop. Whether they close a doorway or an arch, a cabinet or a furniture case, doors have a known function. But well-built and well-specified, they can leave a deep impression.
When I was a kid, probably six–the same age my son is now, I got my first job. It wasn’t paid work, but at that age, I didn’t mind. My father was in charge of the ushers at our church. He had grown tired of the unreliable adult volunteer work force, so he drafted my brother and me into service. We were ideal candidates for the position. In general, we did what we were told and not showing up for church wasn’t really an option for us. We were always dressed properly on Sundays, as my mother saw to that with great care. It didn’t matter to him that we were kids, nor did it matter to anyone else, as it turned out. In fact, it became sort of a welcomed surprise, a fortunate turn of events, in a town where life seemed ordered by a persistent urge to resist change.
As an usher, I greeted people at the church steps. I’d say “Hello,” or “Good Morning,” and offer each of them a program. They always took it, and usually smiled back and would say something nice, which felt good. Sometimes I’d be asked to help someone through the beautiful polished-by-the-years massive oak doors of the church and walk them in to the church. Being only six, my customers were, for the most part, much taller than I, so I wasn’t particularly qualified to assist this way. Every now and then, someone was grumpy or unfriendly or just strange, but that was infrequent, and thus exciting.
As the time for the service drew near, we usually had a rush of visitors, followed by some quiet time. I’d remain out front as they were always a few late comers. This quiet was my favorite part of the job. Once you sat down inside and the service had begun, you could not get up and walk around. A six year old needs to move around frequently, so being outside was a priceless reward.
I stood in the sunlight as the organ churned through the first hymns. The singing voices filled the cavernous vault of the old stone church. Pressing my hand against the doors of the church, I could feel the vibration of the music. All that energy inside was sealed by those wooden doors.
I’d listen, then drift off as 6 year olds do, and study the doors. I examined the carvings for tool marks. I felt the curves of the raised panels. I looked closely at the joints of the stiles and rails and wondered what was holding them together. How does a door work?
Now I make doors. Thick, usually oversize, solid, reliable doors, from oak we reclaim from wineries. We carefully select each piece and assemble them together and polish and hone and send them out all over the country. The style is different but I do use some of the same edge details I remember from those big church doors. Sometimes when we work on them, and especially when one is done and the oil finish is polished, we stand it up, and I can almost see that old church door and hear the music vibrating through.
See the whole newsletter: Growth Rings Winter 2012: Doors.