Dexter man preserves authentic structures on a small scale

DEXTER, Mo. -- "It is very sad, don't you think," asks Jim Arnold of Dexter, "when you see an old house, barn, or building that has been abandoned and left to decay?"

It was that feeling of sadness -- of wanting to preserve what he saw disappearing -- that led Arnold to his pastime of building small-scale authentic structures.

Arnold replicates his pieces from pictures he has taken, or from old photos he has seen.

"I don't work from patterns," he says. "I get the image in my mind, and I start cutting."

Likewise, he explains, he has to have a "feel" for the piece he is making. He says he cannot build a structure if he does not have a personal investment in it.

"My wife will ask me to build this, or build that, but I can't do it. I really can't explain why; I just can't build something that has not impacted me, personally," Arnold says.

As Arnold moves around the basement of his father's home, where he works on and stores his handiwork, he easily relates the history of each piece.

"When your people have lived in an area as long as mine have been here, you pretty well know everyone and everything," he laughs.

Arnold says his heritage stems from the Fields family, who arrived in Southeast Missouri around 1840; and the Arnolds, who came a bit later in 1883.

"Because we have been here so long, and because my ancestors have shared information through the years, we have a great sense of being invested in this area," Arnold explains. "I feel that through my pieces, I am preserving a part of history, even if it is only a small-scale replica."

Arnold takes great pride in the attention to authentic detail he crafts in his structures -- down to the wood he chooses.

"Every piece I use has been salvaged from somewhere in the area. Most of it is around 100 years old, and some as old as 150 years," Arnold said.

He says that he picks up old wood wherever he finds it, and that his many friends and acquaintances are always on the look-out and often give him leads, or bring him old pieces.

When it comes to choosing a subject, Arnold reveals that he never really knows what he is going to build. He has his many pictures for reference, but he never sets out to construct a particular piece.

"I pick up a plank and I study on it," he explains. "Eventually, it will come to me what it should be."

Arnold credits his father, 93-year-old J.C. Arnold, with fostering his wood-working skill. He adds that his dad, known affectionately as "Pop," works alongside him as he is crafting the various structures.

"Pop was always handy and could build or fix anything," Arnold admiringly explains. "We work together two or three times a week.

"We keep busy, don't we, Pop?" he laughingly asks his father.

The elder Arnold protests that he is slowing down and can't do as much as he once could.

"Don't let him kid you," Arnold admonishes. "He keeps up with me, and when I get hung up on a project, Pop can always see the way to straighten it out.

"I know I'm lucky to have Pop to help me. I couldn't do it without him."

Nearly half the spacious basement workroom displays the small-scale replicas that Arnold has created. The other half is filled with old wood waiting to be repurposed, woodworking and other tools, and assorted restoration projects patiently waiting their turn for attention.

Turning to his completed buildings, Arnold points out his re-creation of the Day Barn, which once sat on the Day family farm near the Dexter Airport. He reconstructed this particular piece from an old photo in which he, as a small child, is standing in front of the structure.

"This barn was a mule barn," Arnold says, adding that it was distinctive because of a protruding upper level that jutted out over the front end.

Arnold explains that most barns were unique in themselves because they were built to suit the individual needs of the owner.

Arnold's structure is authentic inside as well as out, with the roof of the barn featuring over 5,000 hand-cut wooden shingles.

The Blue House is a replica of a Sears and Roebuck mail-order house that was built in Dexter in 1916.

"The original house sold for $650 without a bathroom," Arnold says, "because in 1916 outhouses were still quite common."

He goes on to explain that a bathroom could be included for an additional $150.

The shingles on the roof of the Blue House are hand-cut from four regular-size shingles.

The cream-colored house with the blue porch is modeled after an 1885 house that was located in Essex. Arnold saw this house in an old photo that was dated and simply said "in town Essex."

Culbertson's Blacksmith building stood near where the Liberty Township office in Dexter is now, according to Arnold.

"In addition to normal smithy activities, Mr. Culbertson constructed a machine that could pick field peas," Arnold relates.

Interesting features of the Young House, which was located off AD Highway, were an outdoor ladder that led to the attic or loft, and two front doors.

"The kids slept upstairs, and had to climb the ladder to go to bed. There would be cots or ticking to sleep on," Arnold explains.

Favorite among Arnold's historical replicas are the many country schools that once populated the area.

"Until the mid-1950s, when consolidation began, there were country schools every few miles," Arnold reveals. "In fact," he adds, "at the turn of the 20th Century, Stoddard County had over 100 schools."

Arnold says that both his grandmother Carrie Henderson and his aunt Ruth Arnold were teachers in the country school system.

"I went to Boyd School, one of the last country schools that was still in operation," Arnold relates. "When it closed, I went to Central in Dexter for half a year, then we moved to Bloomfield."

Arnold graduated from Bloomfield High School in 1968.

"At Central Elementary I had the same teacher Pop had when he attended Lancaster School at Pyletown -- Mr. Arthur Burchfield. And you know what?" he asks laughing.

"He whipped Pop, and 20 years later he whipped me!"

Arnold says he's not sure what his father had done, but he was caught in the bathroom with a lit cigarette, and even though he had not yet had a chance to try it out, he had to pay the price.

Among the country schools that Arnold has resurrected through his woodworking are the Hard Luck School, which was north of Dudley; Lick Creek School, west of Bloomfield; and Wilkerson School, once located on Highway WW.

Arnold is quite proud of a remnant from the Hard Luck School that was recently given to him.

"The Hard Luck School burned down many years ago," Arnold explains, "and the outhouse was pushed into a fence row. There it remained all these years."

Arnold plans to restore the building and put it in the yard at his home.

This outhouse has historical significance aside from being part of the school, according to Arnold.

"It was built by the Works Projects in America (WPA)," he says.

Arnold goes on to explain that one of the tasks of the WPA was to build outhouses for the country schools. He says the structures were distinctive in that they were set on a concrete slab, had a concrete stool, and were covered with a tin roof.

The outhouse is only one of the myriad of projects Arnold and his father have waiting for them. They recently acquired a 1940s radio they plan to refurbish and restore to working order; there are vintage wooden toys they have rescued and plan to repair; there is the dressing table that belongs to a niece/granddaughter; besides the many small-scale structures still waiting to be realized.

Arnold says his woodworking brings him a great deal of pleasure, and he manages to find time to devote to it, despite the fact that he is still working.

"I was retired from FedEx about a year, and I couldn't stand it," Arnold explains. "I had to have something to do."

He went to work for Southeast Missouri Transit Service as a driver.

"I originally was only going to work two days a week, but now it's five or six," he recounts.

Arnold says he becomes attached to the clients who ride with him, and he looks forward to seeing them on their regular appointment days. He adds that he travels all over the region -- wherever he is needed, and that many clients request him as their driver.

"I love what I do, and it is very hard when I lose one of my clients. I feel as if I've lost a family member," he says affectionately.

Arnold and JoAnna, his wife of nearly 40 years, live in Dexter.