K
ris Kringle has nothing on Bob Orr. Santa may make toys in his workshop, but even his most crafty elves couldn’t manage something like the all-wood to-scale crane, complete with counterweights and cables. Every piece of movable track on the World War II truck is handcrafted wood — the pieces carefully fit together, one by one until the track is long enough to move. That’s the other thing: It can’t just look right, it has to move correctly, too. There’s no finish except for a clear urethane varnish, every color change represents a different type of wood. His creations of trucks, motorcycles, trains, sport utility vehicles, cranes, fire engines, backhoes, scissor lifts and padlocks are less toys and more works of art. In fact, many of his pieces have been displayed at local businesses. Two shelves of intricate woodworking projects sit on a shelf in his garage. “That represents 20 years of work,” Orr said. What at first sounds like hyperbole is really a testament to steady but tenacious work, done most days two to three hours at a time. Orr shrugs at guessing how long any particular project takes, or how many hours he’s spent during the years. He knows most of the time, he’s into a project for two months, three if it’s really long. You might expect that a man whose work resembles the finest from the North Pole might have a workshop worthy of Old Saint Nick.
Top: Woodworker Bob Orr enjoys talking about his creations. Bottom: Orr works for several hours each day, creating wooden replicas. Opposite Page: A ferris wheel, built to scale, Orr made from scratch. Orr’s workshop is tucked neatly to the side of his two-car garage. “Most people are really disappointed looking at this shop,” Orr said. There are a few clamps, a tool box, but little that would hint at a master craftsman. There’s an antique band saw that he bought at a garage sale for $40. Next to it, a drill press; next to that, a sander. “Ninety-eight percent of the work is done by those machines,” Orr said. Sure, he has a router, scroll saw, a chop saw and other tools. “But they’re in the cabinet, hidden,” Orr said. Instead, he loves his old band saw, the workhorse of the shop with its old-style oil cups and sleeve bearings.
MAGIC CITY MAGAZINE I DECEMBER 2016/JANUARY 2017 I 83