"The first folks I'm aware of to
come to this part of North Carolina to make pottery were the Coles and the
Cravens. The Coles came from Staffordshire, England. My family married into
them. That's probably how we got into pottery. They came here in 1750 and
pottery has been made here continuously for two hundred years since they got
here"
Sid Luck
Sid Luck is a fifth generation potter in
Seagrove, North Carolina. This forty-five minute documentary explores his
life and work, and the family heritage he hopes to pass on to his two sons,
Jason and Matthew.
Through conversations with Sid over old photographs and video of him
practicing his craft we hear about the work of early potters. About how
large-scale manufacturing and plastics almost ended the handmade trade, and
what potters did to adapt and survive the changes brought on in the first
half of this century. Sid's father, Jim, talks about the hard times of the
1930's and 40's when wood-fired kilns would 'bout burn yourself up, and
handmade pottery had so little value that Jim finally gave up on it and took
to raisin' hogs and chickens. But not before he made Sid a wheel and taught
him the fundamentals of pottery. To quit making pottery was the practical
thing to do for Jim. Even Sid acknowledged that - he left to join the Marine
Corp in 1969, and later took up school teaching, although he continued to
turn pottery part-time. However, after twenty-five years a growing interest
in pottery allowed him to return to practice his craft full-time.
Circumstances had favored Sid. Now he could raise his children as potter's
sons.
We visit Sid's grandfather's old shop
with the kick wheel still standing beside the dusty, cob-webbed window where
Emerson Luck turned out milk crocks and churns for fifteen cents apiece.
"This is a deserted place," Sid says, as he looks around the dark, damp barn
and discovers some of the first jugs that he helped turn. "This is a
two-gallon jug made by my grandfather", he says, holding up the brown,salt-fired
jug. "They made these jugs to store cider in and when they were done with 'em
the kids would break 'em for the heck of it. So there's not a lot of them
around, I would think". We visit the clay hole where Sid still digs for
native clay. And the stream where he stumbled upon his favorite glaze while
watching his sons catch crawdads, a glaze he calls his crawdad slip.
"Even today the older people say what in the world's all these people
want this stuff for? Even my daddy's that way".
Sid Luck
With handmade pottery virtually dead the
emergence of the resort community of Pinehurst in the early part of this
century, and the intervention of Jacques Busbee and his wife Juliana, helped
breathe new life into a dejected craft. Functional forms were to be replaced
by more decorative shapes and potters complied with their good fortune.
Although they were a little baffled as to why their work was of value
sitting on a mantelpiece or end table down in Pinehurst. Nevertheless, they
began to turn again, and hoped that this newfound interest would blossom:
"It don't make no sense to me"!
Jim Luck
The interest has bloomed. The older
potters are still bewildered!
Sid has everything he needs now in his shop to continue turning out the
traditional forms he learned from his ancestors. Interest is high and
customers are plentiful. If there is one thing more he would like it would
be to have his two sons turning beside him. Jason, his eldest son, plans on
being there someday, but not now. He's learning to be a computer programmer.
And Matthew; he's hoping to be a forest ranger, maybe he'll take up pottery
later on: Maybe Jason and Matthew know pottery, and the hard work it
entails. Maybe they know it requires a dedication they are not yet willing
to shoulder. Maybe they know pottery so well that its value is less
apparent to them. What they may not know is that time will probably turn
them back on their heritage, as it did their father, and the Luck's Ware
sign that stands by the side of NC705 will someday change to read "Luck's
Ware, 6th generation potters. Then again, maybe they do know that.
