Frink, Lyman J.

FRINK

Posted By: Mary H. Cochrane, Volunteer
Date: 6/29/2019 at 19:55:18

LYMAN J FRINK

When it comes to the practical side of building Lamoni I think Lyman J. Frink probably played as definite a part as anyone of my acquaintance. He was one of the early carpenters here who took his hammer and saw and really went to work at the building-up process ina new community, constructing many buildings which are still serving the populace of Lamoni today.

As a workman he took great pride in his work, which probably accounts for the fact that he was chosen to officially lay the cornerstone of the Ad Building and in so doing started Lamoni's most ambitious program of expansion – the building of Graceland College. Numerous stories of his craftmanship have been told by early residents. Upon one accasion he had contracted to build a barm for one of the near-by farmers, who, after the contract had been let, added this special inducement:

“If you can build me a barn without the use of a single dutchman, Lyman, I'll buy you the best hat in town.”

[A dutchman is a wedge-shaped piece of wood that carpenters or other woodworkers sometimes use to close up a joint that has been improperly cut.]

“Then bid good-bye to the hat,” returned Lyman with one of his characteristic smiles, “for that is the way your barn will be built.”

And according to statements of those familiar with the incident, a thorough search of the completed barn failed to reveal the existence of a single dutchman in its construction, and Lyman won the hat.

In later years, when Lyman was advancing in age, he opened a woodworking shop in Lamoni where he gave up much of his activity as a builder and turned his attention to work that could be done within the shop, and it was here that I remember my first personal contacts with him. I think the first of these occurred one day when a boy friend accosted me on the street and asked me to make a visit tot he little woodworking shop. “I am going down and have Lyman Frink charm away a wart for me,” he said, and he held up his hand, exposing a large seed wart on one of his fingers.

This was a new sort of thing for me, but he won my interest immediately and I was filled with curiosity as we entered the shop. The proprietor of the shop was busy at his bench, planing the dges of some boards as we entered, but he looked up from his work and greeted us in a soft, pleasant voice which later associations taught me was one of his outstanding characteristics.

“Mr. Frink,” began my friend, rather hesitatingly, “can you charm away warts? One of our neighbors says you can do it and if you can I wish you would charm mine.”

There was an amused twinkle in Lyman's eye as he listened to the lad's request, and when he spoke it was with kindness and concern for the boy's problem. “Oh, I don't profess to be a wart charmer,” he said, “but some people say I have charmed their warts away, but warts are funny things. Let me see your wart, sonny.”

The boy extended his hand, and the man examined the large wart as he rubbed it lightly with his thumb and fingers.

“Warts are funny things,” he repated, and we both watched him intently as we experienced mingled feelings of awe and superstition, expecting to see a miracle performed before our very eyes. “Sometimes they stay for a long time and again they leave almost overnight. We don't know ehn they come and lots of times we don't know when they leave, so I guess if this one will not charm off we will have to leave it alone until it takes a notion to go of its own accord.”

With that he turned again to his bench and resumed his planing, which we watched him, unable to conceal our feelings of disappointment. “Don't be discouraged,” he said as we turned to depart. “You'll wake up some morning and it will be gone.”

It was some weeks later that a group of boys were discussing warts and their peculiarities, and my friend undertook to display his wart, the same one he was so desirious of having charmed away. And though he was positive it was on his finger the night before, now to his amazement it was gone slick and clean – the miracle had happened.

At one time Lyman Frink, along with several other Lamoni craftsmen, became interested in making violins, and he had constructed several instruments, probably more for the pleasure derived from working with them than any idea of monetary returns that he might have derived from it. But during his activities in this field of craftsmanship made famous by Stradivarius, Guarnerius and other such celebrities, he had collected a choice assortment of violin wood, which he had carefully preserved in the the dry for future use, so that it would be thoroughly seasoned when he planned to build the intrument which would prove to be his masterpiece.

Discovering that I was also interested in violins and their construction, he took great interest upon different occasions in showing me his collection of choice wood, and demonstrating the potential tonal value of each by suspending it by a heavy cord and tapping it with another block of wood to demonstrate its acoustic possibilities. To the person who has never experienced the pleasure of working with fine woods and who knows nothing of the thrill of discovering hidden beauties that often lie beneath a rough and gnarled exterior, our examination of the rough and dusty pieces of maple, spruce and pine would probably appear somewhat ridiculous, but it was here with Lyman Frink in his little shop that I gained a great deal of knowledge of woods and their possibilities. Woods are like personalities: every piece is different, and those which are the most valuable reqwuire the most effort and labor to bring out the full richness of their character.

It was during these sessions, too, that I gained as a youngster some other lessons which have been of lasting value to me, for he displayed a definite interest in young people and their problems, and often talked to me about the problems of life and how we should try to meet them. He encouraged us to lead normal lives and, as we developed into manhood, to be clean and honest. He had no use for the goody-goody or sissty type of fellows, as he felt they could not be trusted and were too often guilty of violations of the laws of society, and his favorite expression concerning this type was - I have heard him repeat it many times - “It's the still pig that steals the swill.”

Lyman Frink made no bid for priminence or fame; he was a plain, unpretentious citizen of Lamoni, who went about his business of living and raising his family in a way that they might be a credit to the community. By nature he was a bulder, and he knew pretty well the cost of building and the effort necessary, whether the structure was built of lumber or human flesh and blood. He knew that to build a fine violin that would vibrate with life and melody in the hands of the performer, it required something more than ordinary materials and workmanship; and he knew that for boys to develop into men of character, it required something more than to idly drift in that direction. In his humble and simple way he tried to help many a young of Lamoni realize that fact.

To some people Lyman Frink may have been just a carpenter or a cabinet maker – yes, perhaps a wart charmer. But to his friends and those who really knew him he was much more than all of these. My memory of him is of a friend who gave me much of value, and I repsect him as I would any man who offers encouragement ot young boys to develop into better men, and though his position in life may have been a humble one, he holds a definite place in Lamoni's passing parade.