Rudy Christian

Whatever Happened to Mr. Fixit?

One of my most cherished childhood memories is the time I spent with my grandparents in the summers on the shore of Lake Huron in Michigan at the hotel/motel complex…
By Rudy Christian
JUN 30, 2011
One of my most cherished childhood memories is the time I spent with my grandparents in the summers on the shore of Lake Huron in Michigan at the hotel/motel complex…

One of my most cherished childhood memories is the time I spent with my grandparents in the summers on the shore of Lake Huron in Michigan at the hotel/motel complex that grandpa had built from the ground up. Grandpa was the kind of person who never considered throwing things away if they were broken. He understood that with a little hard work and ingenuity he could make pretty much make anything work the way it was supposed to. What strikes me as interesting is that grandpa wasn’t unique in his ability to fix things. In his time, that was just what people did.

Unfortunately, in my opinion, during the early 20th century we went through a “value engineering” process during which we exchanged high quality for low cost when manufacturing things replaced making things. On the surface this appears to most of us to have been a good deal. Instead of having to maintain the things we owned, we could just use them up, toss them in the trash and replace them with the latest greatest version of them. What we didn’t understand was that we were throwing away more than a worn out piece of junk.

In the world that grandpa lived in, people fixed things because they were worth fixing, but they also fixed them because they knew how. When we stopped making things that were worth fixing, we stopped needing to know how, but the need for that knowledge didn’t disappear entirely because so much of what we made then still exists now.

Hence the problem of taking care of our inheritance

On so many levels, the loss of Mr. Fixit has created a snowball effect in the glut of manufactured products in our society. Today most people believe the loss of our hand-made heritage is inevitable.

Look at the major impact that “replacement” windows have had on our historic architecture. Today more people than ever are realizing the travesty this product has created, but few people realize that what we lost before we started throwing out our old hand-made windows was the knowledge it takes to repair them.

In effect, we went through a depression of understanding the importance of the skills needed to fix things prior to understanding how important those skills are, and unfortunately we never even realized it was happening. Now we are faced with more than the challenge of how to deal with maintaining our built heritage; we are faced with the challenge of remembering how it’s done.

I'm sure that part of why I enjoy fixing things as much as I do is the fact that I spent my summers helping grandpa fix things and sharing his satisfaction in being able to. I don’t think many of us think about how much that type of experience influenced our own lives often enough, let alone realize how unfortunate young people in recent generations are for not having had access to it. If their parents didn’t maintain things that they owned, then they would not see the value in doing so either. In fact, they probably wouldn't even have a reason to believe there could be any value in it.

Conservation is about people first and the things people value second

It makes no difference how much something might be worth, or even if it is something that was built so it could be maintained, if people see no value in maintaining it. In a world where people who know how to fix things either don’t exist, or aren’t appreciated for their ability to do so, the value structure is skewed toward replacing rather than repairing, and, unfortunately, the cycle is self regenerating. Unless we can begin to influence current and future generations to understand the value in knowing how to fix things, conservation is an exercise in frustration.

I used to wonder how it is that “historical societies” came to be until I realized that they are the sanctuary of the handful of people who understand how important it is that we conserve our heritage and have little or no idea how to do it. Basically they have a compulsion to save what can be saved, but they become over focused on the artifacts and can’t even see the gap in understanding that exists in the world we live in as to how those artifacts came to be, let alone how to take care of them. Their solution isn’t about preserving the knowledge; it’s about preserving the stuff that knowledge built by putting it in a museum.

I have no interest in turning back the clock to a time when everything was made by hand and people worked from dawn to dusk to feed their families, but I do think that we would all be better off if there were a few more Mr. Fixits around and people realized just how important they are. I still believe there’s a tradesperson in all of us, and if we lived in a world where that tradesperson was someone we appreciated and our children looked up to, more of us would be inclined to nurture and value the knowledge that was once commonplace and was the foundation on which our heritage was built and maintained.

Rudy R. Christian is a founding member and past president of the Timber Framers Guild and of Friends of Ohio Barns and a founding member and executive director of the Preservation Trades Network. He is also a founding member of the Traditional Timberframe Research and Advisory Group and the International Trades Education Initiative. He speaks frequently about historic conservation and also conducts educational workshops. Rudy has also published various articles, including “Conservation of Historic Building Trades: A Timber Framer’s View” in the “APT Bulletin,” Vol. XXXIII, No. 1, and his recent collaborative work with author Allen Noble, entitled “The Barn: A Symbol of Ohio,” has been published on the Internet. In November 2000, the Preservation Trades Network awarded Rudy the Askins Achievement Award for excellence in the field of historic preservation.

As president of Christian & Son, his professional work has included numerous reconstruction projects, such as the historic “Big Barn” at Malabar Farm State Park near Mansfield, OH, and relocation of the 19th-century Crawford Horse Barn in Newark, OH. These projects featured “hand raisings,” which were open to the public and attracted a total of 130,000 interested spectators. He also led a crew of timber framers at the Smithsonian Folk Life Festival, Masters of the Building Arts program, in the re-creation and raising of an 18th-century carriage house frame on the Mall in Washington, DC. Roy Underhill’s “Woodright’s Shop” filmed the event for PBS, and Roy participated in the raising.

Christian & Son’s recent work includes working with a team of specialists to relocate Thomas Edison’s #11 laboratory building from the Henry Ford Museum to West Orange, NJ, where it originally was built. During the summer of 2006, Rudy; his son, Carson; and his wife, Laura, were the lead instructors and conservation specialists for the Field School at Mt. Lebanon Shaker Village, where the 1838 timber frame grainery was restored. In July and August 2008, Rudy and Laura directed and instructed a field school in the Holy Cross historic district in New Orleans in collaboration with the University of Florida and the World Monuments Fund.

Rudy studied structural engineering at both the General Motors Institute in Flint, MI, and Akron University in Ohio. He has also studied historic compound roof layout and computer modeling at the Gewerbe Akademie in Rotweil, Germany. He is an adjunct professor at Palomar College in San Marcos, CA, and an approved workshop instructor for the Timber Framers Guild.