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The art of making spinning wheels is not something that we
in Donegal readily associate with this part of the country
but, not so many years ago, there was a master of this art
living among us. That man was the late Frank Thompson of Stranorlar,
dead this thirty years past, but who, during his lifetime,
was a master of his craft and whose famed spinning wheels
are still turning to this very day, not only at home in Donegal,
but in many countries abroad.
This writer remembers meeting and talking with the late Frank
at his humble thatched cottage at the top of Stranorlar. At
that time, around 1960 Frank was then a hale and hearty eighty
year old who loved nothing better than to sit at the hearth
fire, smoking his pipe contentedly in the company of his daughters,
Alacoque and Katie, still made his spinning wheels in his
spare time.
Frank used to relate that making spinning wheels was an unusual
occupation, particularly so for a man of his generation. It
took a master craftsman to design and make a wheel and sadly
today, the art has more or less died out in Ireland. Even
at the grand old age of eighty, Frank was still making his
beloved wheels while many other people who led an unexacting
life and were his contemporaries, had been in retirement for
thirty years.
Frank always said that his work was also his hobby and he
could not have existed without it. He said at that time, "Since
I was a boy I have never known what idleness was and I could
not just sit around doing nothing. It stands to sense that
a man who is in good health prefers to be doing something,
if it were only to pass the time" : However the inclination
to work, even for a man who was still vigorous at eighty years
of age, would not have kept him busy if the orders for his
wheels had not been coming in.
Anyone who visited Frank's tiny cluttered workshop in the
era of thirty years ago, with its wheels in different stage
of construction would have seen proof that he must have been
one of the busiest craftsmen in the country. He worked single-handedly
and because the craft was so highly skilled and hard to perfect,
it was difficult to get any young man to take it up.
Frank Thompson started his trade relatively young and learned
most of the tricks of the trade in the following fifty years.
In that time span he turned out literally hundreds of wheels
which found their way to many countries throughout the world.
Where did they all go and to what uses were they put? Before
his death Frank commented that wheels which he made in his
shop had been sent to the four corners of the world and he
could hardly name all the countries that had people writing
to him with orders. They had gone to Canada, America, Australia,
all parts of England, Scotland and Ireland.
The strange thing about Frank Thompson was that he never
served his time to the business. As a boy in his teens he
worked for local building contractors for a while and then
started as a body-builder for a man turning out horse-cars.
Around this time, a good ninety years ago now, the spinning
wheel was in fairly general use in the surrounding country
districts, and Frank, from the first time he had seen one
in operation, was fascinated by its precision . He often watched
some of the old craftsmen making them. It was an intricate,
tedious, highly skilled job that had to be painstakingly done
to get the perfect article. In time, he had mastered all the
secrets and soon was able to go into business on his own as
one of the few full-time wheel makers in County Donegal. His
reputation grew over the years and soon he had as many orders
as he could cope with.
He was particularly proud to hear that a wheel which he booked
all the way to Korea was to be the start of a weaving industry
there and that his handiwork was still serving as a model
for Cheju carpenters to copy in the mid 1960's. It is also
interesting to note that in the 1960's a full sized spinning
wheel in mahogany cost the princely sum of £11 while
a miniature model sold for £6. Even towards the end
of his long life, Frank Thompson could have an entire Spinning
wheel ready in three full days.
Extract from Article by Noel Slevin: Finn Valley Voice -
Sept. '97.
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