Calla lilies and roses bloom in metallic form. Metal grows from every nook of 64-year-old Jim Friel’s workshop in Arvada.
Friel is Arvada’s only ornamental blacksmith, who has been practicing the craft for 35 years.
Although he’s slowing down for retirement, he will pass the torch to his stepson.
Before the Industrial Revolution, every town had to have its own blacksmith. Arvada, know for it’s historic neighborhoods, still has that piece of history because of Friel’s Iron Products. The profession is so unique that Arvada’s sales tax department doesn’t have a specific business code for blacksmith.
“Blacksmithing has been good to me,” Friel said. “There’s always orders to fill.”
Friel’s creations include iron adornments for fireplace covers, mirrors, handrails, security doors, drapery rods — among many other things — with flower designs and animals, such as bears, deer and eagles.
His work is lifelike and can easily be mistaken for something real as opposed to something constructed from metal. In the front room of his shop on a recent day, a fishing rod leaned against the wall. It was Friel’s design for a curtain rod.
Arvada’s town blacksmith works in a pink American Craftsman house turned workshop in the historic Stocke-Walter neighborhood.
Arvadans only have to travel to Alamos Verdes restaurant near Wadsworth Boulevard and 53rd Avenue to see his work.
“I did the iron tables, chairs and the fence work in the back,” Friel said.
Friel also donated the ironwork on the sleigh that Historic Olde Town Arvada displays during Christmas. Although Friel wouldn’t quote how much money the sleigh was worth, he said that blacksmithing pays $100 an hour, and it took him 40 hours to complete the metal work.
Some of his larger projects were for homes in Evergreen and Vail, where he created many of the city’s handrails. In Golden, Friel’s metal lanterns adorn Boettcher Mansion.
One of Friel’s projects in Niwot was a $40,000 job for multilevel staircase rails. The staircase project was something he specifically pointed out as a job he was proud of because of the minute detail that went into the hand forged project.
What is a blacksmith?
In the past, every town needed a blacksmith to create essential items, before products such as hammers, ax heads and nails could be mass-produced. Towns also needed them to keep their farm equipment in good condition. A blacksmith would forge iron — also known as black metal.
According to Friel, three types of blacksmithing exist: industrial produces parts for large machines; Ferrier produces products for animals, such as horseshoes; and ornamental produces everything from jewelry to chandeliers, which Friel does.
In his workshop, Friel rhythmically turns metal into designs with a pound of his foot on a floor switch. The switch is how Friel controls his power hammer, a machine strong enough to shape four-inch thick metal into designs only limited by his imagination. The pounding sound is enough to make the floor vibrate, which is just part of the process of turning A36 steel into whatever he needs. At that particular moment, he was shaping a fishtail scroll.
Few words were spoken on that day of work. Words find a hard place to sneak in between the orchestrated cacophony of a propane forge and jackhammer-like slams of his antique power hammers. Friel slung his own hammer intermediately against the four-inch thick metal rod to shape it into a snub-end scroll.
After firing down his forge, so it no longer emits its more than 2,000-degree green flame, Friel defined his work.
“What you just saw, that’s blacksmithing.”
Tools of the trade
Power hammers are set up in a semicircle around the floor in Friel’s workshop. It’s his hammers that exemplify the motto printed on his light blue trucker hat: “He who dies with the most toys wins.”
“My power hammers are my toys,” Friel said.
His toy collection includes everything from several antique power hammers, a traditional coal forge and a duplicate of every iron product he’s made.
One of Friel’s hammers, dubbed a Perfect, became 100 years old Sept. 10, 2007.
The Perfect is just that, perfect for a specific task, Friel said. Despite its age, he uses it regularly.
“Actually if it didn’t do the fishtail (scroll) so nice, I’d throw it out,” he said.
As a self-taught blacksmith, Friel’s toys are his lifelong co-workers, which elicited no formal introduction when he was pushed to describe them.
“Explain ’em?” Friel said. “Well, you turn them on, they’ve got a motor, and then they go.”
Passing the torch
Now that Friel is ready to retire, he plans to pass his shop onto his stepson, Brent Miller.
Blacksmithing took up most of Friel’s life. In his early years, he worked seven days a week, sometimes for 17 hours a day.
“I’ve never been anywhere in my life,” Friel said. “I’ve always been working. It’s time to run around a bit.”
In his retirement he hopes to make up for lost time. He plans on traveling around the country in his motor home with his wife, Donna, to take in the sites.
Still, he has no intention of giving up blacksmithing.
“Arvada will always have a blacksmith,” Friel said. “Brent will do the work, and as long as I’m alive, I’ll help him with things until he learns how to do them.”
In the future, Friel hopes to create a place where fellow blacksmiths can gather and teach each other their tricks of the trade. He already has about 10 work stations set up at his Broomfield home for such an endeavor.
“I’m going to learn more,” Friel said. “There’s always something new. There’s always something to learn.”
Arvada Community Editor Nicholas Dewart can be reached at 303-279-5541, ext. 244