We just love tools. Is that a problem? - Tool Hounds

Tools of the Trade, Nov-Dec, 2003 by Mark Clement

In his fully equipped woodworking shop, Wade Whitlock is missing just one thing most of us can't do without. You can look behind the table saw or lathe, under the work-bench, and all through the parts for the cabinets, built-ins, and furniture he's building and you still won't find it. His shop doesn't have electricity.

Whitlock is Shop Master at the Steppingstone Museum's woodworking shop in Havre de Grace, Md., where he works with his best apprentice, his 11-year-old grandson Erick Kegley. Stepping through the barn door into Whitlock's shop is like dropping in on an old friend; he loves to show off his stuff. He'll coax you to the edge of an ancient machine and before you know it, he's thrust you back in time with a nickel tour that's easily worth a sawbuck. He knows everything about the tools he uses, too, which date from 1870 to 1930; he quickly recites patent dates, the number of them made, and their design specs. Both the 600-pound table saw (from 1894) and left-handed lathe (from 1876) are pedal-powered. You ride the lathe like a stationary bike. It takes three people to run the table saw--two to pedal, one to cut the wood. His hand-powered "plunge router" looks more like a hood ornament than a power tool.

Stopping by Steppingstone is so much more than an old tool tour, especially if you find Whitlock at his shaving bench, quietly pulling gentle curls of wood with his drawknife. It's this kind of hand work that gives him a special feel for wood and an understanding of what tools work best with certain species. It's quiet here, in contrast to the snarl and howl of traffic on busy Interstate 95 only miles away. The shop is a respite from all that, and Whitlock might offer a word of caution as you leave and step back into the future: "Unfortunately there's life outside of Steppingstone."