Station: [6] Shoemaker, Blacksmith and Saddler

F: Over time, no fewer than eight shoemakers pursued their craft here in the village. You needed a considerable number of tools to make shoes: hammers, punching and riveting tongs, edge bevellers, cutting irons, sewing machines – and of course the famous shoemaker's lasts! On the left, above the finishing machine, you can see a whole row of them.

M: Some of the tools on display here were once owned by Master Shoemaker Kuhn. His wife Mathilde was a real original. Day after day, she calmly swept the pavement in front of her house. That wouldn't normally have been remarkable – except for the fact that the road running past was Bundesstrasse 29, which still cut through the middle of the village at the time. Think of it as the equivalent of an A-road, or a federal highway.

F: And while Mathilde Kuhn swept and swept, numerous cars and lorries whizzed past just a few inches away. Which on various occasions almost gave observers a heart attack. The parish once presented her with a "Golden Dustpan" award. She took it in good humour ... and kept on sweeping. And why not.

M: Next, we'll be taking a look around the corner on your right. You'll find a display of pneumatic hammers, finishing hammers, ball hammers, rounding hammers, sledgehammers....

F: You've probably guessed it: we're standing in front of a blacksmith's workshop. But not just any old workshop. The tools once belonged to one Josef Maier.

M: Though hardly anyone knew him by that name. Josef Maier was generally known by his nickname, Schmieds-Seff, which is equivalent to Blacksmith Josef. Some called him I-Seff, and others preferred Gelumpe-Seff, Junk Josef. But let's just settle for Joe. His small workshop in Linkengasse was organised chaos incarnate.

F: During the Second World War, Josef Maier had worked as an aircraft mechanic and probably acquired all kinds of specialised knowledge as a result. There was nothing he couldn't repair. No tool he didn't own. And if a tool didn't exist, he simply made it from scratch. A real genius, or "Käpsele", as the Swabians would say.

M: And finally, take a look at the workshop diagonally opposite, where we'd like to introduce you to the saddler's trade. Do you have any idea what a saddler actually does?
 
F: In the past, saddlers perhaps unsurprisingly mainly made saddles, harnesses and bridles. There was even a kind of catalogue, where you could select your preferred style. If you look at the bench on the right, you'll see one of those catalogues, which even has colour illustrations. Depending on your requirements, you could choose between a light working harness, a towing harness or a wagoner's harness in the old German style. Just to give a few examples. 

M: The workshop once belonged to the Lang saddlery, later the Kurz saddlery. It was a family business that existed for about 150 years. It was established on the first of February 1813 by Bernhard Lang. The workshop was in a good location, right on the main road. 

F: The business later passed from father to son – and he in turn planned to pass it on to his own son. But the young man never returned from the battlefields of the First World War. And so the saddlery went to a son-in-law called Johannes Kurz, who was no less successful as a saddler and won numerous awards. And so Lang turned into Kurz. This is a kind of play on words, because Lang and Kurz translates as long and short.
 
Fotos: © Jürgen Bahnmayer