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both Chuck Dixon and
Mr. Cole. Both would have a far reaching effect on many people
beyond the scope of their understanding.
In his search to provide certain aspects of life Chuck felt
essential for his family, he chanced to meet Charlie. A mutual
respect for each other and the needs of both ended with an agreement
that Chuck would come to Pennsylvania to run the farming operation
then owned by Mr. Cole. The agreement was signed by a contract, that
is to say, the now old fashioned kind of contract just a handshake
to seal the bond of a man’s word! At last Chuck was able to return
to a lifestyle in which the worth of a man was judged not by the
clothes upon his back but by what he had in his heart. Where respect
and responsibility for one’s own actions were ideals to live by and
respected by his neighbors. Chuck wanted his children to inherit the
value and ideals of a rural America, one to which he himself had
grown accustomed during his youth.
Old ways die hard here in the serene valleys of Berks County,
Pennsylvania and it wasn’t long before Chuck was again involved with
the shooting and fixin’ of old guns. Since his youth, guns were a
part of him and he a part of them. They were history, a part of his
American heritage, and I suspect that as a young boy they imparted a
sense of responsibility to a youthful and |
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questioning mind. They
were as much a part of life to a young fellow coming of age in rural
America as were the ax and a stack of unsplit stove wood. I don’t
doubt for a minute that on more than one occasion as Chuck bounced
across the furrowed fields on a “Poppin’ Johnny”, his thoughts
turned toward the Old Ones who had settled this valley. I imagine
that late in the evening he would often reach down into the warm
moist loam and smell the earthiness of his labor and his dreams. In
so doing he would become one with the Old Ones. From the soil
springs life that is nurtured throughout the spring rains and summer
heat. The weather is watched with an interest that goes beyond
weekend plans being rained out. The harvest moon comes, ending the
annual cycle of life. The corn is shocked and the truck is put up in
the root cellar. The labor of the fields has been reduced to allow a
fella’ time enough for the harvest of the woods. The October breeze
brings a chill to forewarn of the coming winter. The woods abound
with life preparing for the onslaught of the new season. The fields,
barren now save for the shocks of corn standing as a testament to
the labor of planting and harvest, are blanketed in the early
morning frost. The air is crisp as you walk to the wooded ridge
rising above the valley, your pace quickens with anticipation and
you hold the old rifled gun a bit tighter.
To the farmer, his existence in relation to natural life cycles is
understood. His labors are directed toward a purpose that can be
seen as well as felt. When he sits at his table to partake of his
subsistence, he gives his prayer of thanks from the heart for he
understands that the delicate balance of growth and harvest goes
beyond the ability of his own labor.
I don’t find it hard to understand that a man should find strength
in a handful of soil. Its feel and smell afford one the opportunity
to understand his roots. Farmers are susceptible to such behavior
and its good for the soul. I imagine that the Old Ones had smiled
down from their lofty abode as Chuck let the soil filter through his
fingertips. Perhaps they found satisfaction in knowing that their
labors of the past were not forgotten. The cycle of life is
continuous.
Chucks interest in muzzle loading rifles was spawned in his early
years long before his move to Pennsylvania. As a kid growing up
along the Ohio River in the late 40s and early 50s, he had acquired,
as most young boys did back then, a penchant for guns and hunting.
It was nurtured through the years by his deep appreciation for his
heritage. One can easily picture Chuck in his youth, a rawboned,
lanky kid who couldn’t sit still in school once the leaves turned
crisp and colorful in the fall; summers perhaps spent wrangling
catfish from the Ohio’s current. The joys of youth are filled with
innocence and dreams add to that a sprinkling of huntin’ and fishin’
and you’ve got the all-American boy ‘fer sure. Somewhere between the
time Chuck was weaned on a .22 rifle and the time he first started
to notice something very likeable about the fairer sex, he got to
totem’ old caplock, muzzle loading rifles into the woods. He was no
Johnny-Come-Lately in the 1960s when he joined the National Muzzle
Loading Rifle Association. He could hold his own when it come to
sighting down the slim barrel of a rifled gun.
It was in the early 1970s when Chuck began an annual pilgrimage to
Friendship, Indiana, to shoot in the national matches. There, under
the influence and direction of Mr. Webb Terry, Chuck began to take
an active interest in shooting heavy bench rifles. In 1975 he shot a
record group, a target which still hangs in his shop. He followed up
with three more records in 1976.
For many years Chuck had been involved in the making and the repair
of old guns. This was before the availability of the wide variety of
parts presently on the market. It was a period in which the
‘make-do’ attitude was paramount in the making of a shootable muzzle
loading rifle. From that, came an understanding of mechanical
function few current gun makers have had to contend with.
Around 1975, Chuck centered a great deal of concentrated effort not
only toward the making of rifles, but also in showing others how to
build them through classroom instruction. He also began a small
retail sales shop of muzzle loading supplies in a vacated calf barn
on the Cole farm, adjacent to which was another out building that
housed his workshop.
It was his intent to perpetuate the heritage of the Pennsylvania
rifle by affording others the opportunity to gain knowledge and self
confidence through his instruction. He authored the book, ‘The Art
of Building the Pennsylvania Rifle”; a step by step guide that takes
the reader not only through the involved process of making a fine
rifle, but also through the pages of time to instill the value of
craftsmanship that was an everyday virtue in the minds of our
forefathers.
Through those years spent teaching the ancient arts and mysteries of
the gun maker’s trade, Chuck became aware of the many problems that
plagued the novice gun maker. His book is directed toward overcoming
many of those basic problems and further details the finer points of
form and function for the experienced artisan. Often, the
progression of one’s abilities and development are not restricted to
that individual alone. When Chuck’s son, Greg, completed high
school, he went on to study engraving at a technical institute in
Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Greg became a master engraver adding to the
professionalism of his father’s shop. He began to take on contract
work, not only from local gunsmiths, but from major arms
manufacturers as well.
Some years back, Chuck and I were discussing some of the
transitional gun makers from the 1930s and 40s. Chuck related a
story that when Greg was just a little fellow, he accompanied his
father to the shop of the renowned gun maker, Hacker Martin. Hacker
was not present, but a protege’ had taken to showing Chuck and Greg
some engraving techniques and at that very young and impressionable
age, Greg was infatuated with the art. In one short afternoon a
legacy had been passed on to a little fella, the full impact of
which has even yet to be realized.
Therein lies a message; that in order to perpetuate any endeavor of
man it must also be instilled in the hearts and minds of our young.
The measure of our youth is a reflection of our own values. It is
our responsibility and it rests heavy upon our shoulders. We know
not what may impress the young so we must judge our own direction
carefully. It is wise to remember the old adage that says: “As the
twig is bent, so grows the tree.”
By 1982, Chuck had to
move his operation several miles east from the foot of Hawk
Mountain. Again Charlie Cole had a direct influence upon the
direction Chuck was to take. Charlie had noticed, with more than
just a passing interest, that this muzzle loading business could
take Chuck beyond what farming could hope to do. He had taken note
of the many people that occasionally came by the farm and shop to
shoot informally and to purchase necessary supplies. He foresaw an
expanding market due to the upcoming Bicentennial and realized that
the interest would not wane in the following years. Charlie helped
Chuck to center his efforts toward a fulltime, productive business,
and the relocation of the shop in 1981 to its present location
between Kempton and Krumsville was the result of that expansion. It
has become one of the largest in the country to service the needs of
the muzzle loading enthusiast.
-By: Multiple Authors / July 1992 / "Ten Years of
Dedication" Remembrances of Dixon's Gun Maker's Fair |
