Alan says that the most significant differences between antique and modern furniture are joinery, craftsmanship, and materials. When Alan repairs furniture, he replicates the same level of workmanship and quality to ensure the piece’s longevity. Above: When Alan considers his long history of woodworking, he feels that his relationships with his customers are his greatest accomplishments.
Alan Kinder disappears through a tall, black iron gate surrounded by fig vine into a small, unassuming building off Manning Avenue, his yellow Lab lumbering behind him. Inside, fluorescent lights buzz to life, revealing a world unto itself. To the casual observer, it seems a haphazard hodgepodge of bygone belongings — furniture in disrepair, antique tools, an odd collection of pickle jars. But this sacred space is where life is restored, things find their meaning, and history is reclaimed for the future. Alan says his workshop is just where the dust is made.
Planes, saws, chisels, and hammers line the walls. Finishes and solvents fill the collection of pickle jars atop a stained workbench. A stack of wood leans against a door frame — walnut, maple, and mahogany slabs amassed over decades. Alan runs his hand over each piece of furniture in his shop — a writing table from the 1800s with a damaged drawer, a third generation dining table with broken expansion rails, and chairs saved from a burned church. Alan knows these pieces the way a doctor is acquainted with his patients. He has carefully observed and diagnosed each problem and prescribed the remedy. With patience and precision, Alan restores each heirloom to its former glory.
Alan grew up about a mile from his Manning Street workshop. He spent many days playing in the backyard with his three siblings under a sprawling oak tree. However, some of his best memories are afternoons spent with his father in the basement workshop. Alan’s father was a Columbia general surgeon. In his leisure time, he collected wood and crafted pieces of furniture.
“When you were in his shop, he treated you like a scrub nurse,” says Alan. “He’d say, ‘Hand me this!’ or ‘Hand me that!’ Most of my brothers wouldn’t tolerate it and would make themselves scarce, so I got to do a lot of work with him.” Alan carefully observed his father’s woodworking and learned what to do, but perhaps more importantly, what not to do. He says, “I think because he was a doctor, he was in a hurry with every piece he worked on. It’s like he thought, ‘We’ve got to close this thing up, or it’s going to die on the table!’” His father’s pieces were often rushed and lacked the detail and precision that Alan values today. “He just moved too quickly through the process. His work shows that, but that’s what makes his pieces special to our family now,” Alan says.
Alan started his craft in his teens by making birdhouses, doghouses, and cork decoys beside his father. Ten years later, Alan earned his first paycheck using some of the lessons from his father’s workshop. After graduating from the University of South Carolina, Alan got a job at his brother’s business, Barron’s Outfitters, and met Sam Shealy, the shop’s repairman. Sam taught Alan how to repair fishing reels and make custom fishing rods. Alan recalled his woodworking experience from his youth and took to making and repairing custom rods like a natural.
While at Barron’s, Alan discovered his real passion — customer service. “People would come into Barron’s with a problem. Their reel or their rod was broken,” says Alan. “I learned that if you take their problem, make it your problem, and fix it, people really seem to appreciate that.” Alan admits that at least 80 percent of his customers are families he met at Barron’s in his early 20s. “I don’t think I’m the best furniture refinisher in Columbia, but what I do think I have is the best customer service,” says Alan. “It always goes back to how you treat people.”
After Alan’s time at Barron’s, he continued honing his craft alongside other Columbia woodworkers. “That was my education in woodworking, just seeing how other people did it,” says Alan. “But the best instruction I ever had was when somebody would bring me a really old piece and asked me to fix it. When I would start the repairs, I could see how it was put together hundreds of years ago when really skilled people were making handmade furniture.”
Alan noted that the most significant differences between antique and modern furniture are joinery, craftsmanship, and materials. “They’re now using medium-density fiberboard to make furniture. That’s just a nice word for cardboard,” says Alan. Modern pieces are difficult, if not impossible, to repair. However, pieces constructed decades or centuries ago were built to last for generations. When Alan repairs furniture, he replicates the same level of craftsmanship and quality to ensure the piece’s longevity. “I prefer doing it the old way. It’s very time-consuming but also very rewarding.”
Not only does Alan use time-tested techniques in his workshop, but his tools also have a proven track record. “It’s all the same equipment my father bought,” says Alan. “When I pick up a hammer, I pick up his hammer.” Alan’s collection of wood was acquired from his father as well. “I’m a big fan of finding the best use for stuff,” says Alan. “So, I’m just going to leave that board right there until it speaks to me and tells me what it wants to be.”
One of Alan’s most notable projects includes restoring the original South Carolina Supreme Court bench. It was in possession of the University of South Carolina School of Law at the time, and Alan was commissioned to restore the bench to its original faux mahogany finish. Alan has also constructed podiums for the USC Russell House and Debate Society. Other projects include a walnut entertainment center, canoe, grandfather clock, and even a headboard constructed from the porch posts of an old home off Garners Ferry Road.
“I even have a friend at the Governor’s Mansion who calls me every time they break a piece of furniture,” says Alan. “They’ve got some wonderful old antiques that need repairs from time to time.”
Regarding furniture, there is little that Alan cannot do. “I know how to take a thing from a tree to a useful product,” says Alan. If necessary, he uses his vast network of connections to enlist help from Soda City Sawmill and other collaborators around Columbia. Although Alan can do anything, he admittedly has his favorite projects. “I really like chair repairs. I think it’s challenging and fun. I know enough about joinery that I can even make rocking chairs.” Alan also enjoys making beautiful wooden memory boxes. “People really enjoy them. They ask me to make them for graduations, birthdays, or even wedding gifts.”
As Alan considers his long history of woodworking, he feels that his relationships with his customers are his greatest accomplishments. “One of the things that endeared me to woodworking was the people that you meet,” says Alan. Many customers bring him family heirlooms that have been passed down for generations. He discusses with his customers what they hope to achieve and then does his best to stay within their budget. “The value is in the eye of the beholder. These pieces are very special to them. If they think it’s worth fixing, then it’s worth fixing. This is a partnership between me and my customer.”
After his parents passed, Alan acquired his family’s home with the big oak tree in the back and the workshop in the basement. It is now filled with pieces passed down from his father or restored by his own hands. Each room is like a museum, with stories inhabiting each corner and cabinet. However, two decades ago, Alan’s growing collection and business required him to find a larger space to work. One day while leaving his neighborhood, Alan noticed an old building with a black iron gate and overgrown ivy for sale on the corner of Manning Avenue and Forest Drive. It had tall ceilings and plenty of space for his many projects. Alan purchased the building and set up shop, but within two months someone set the back of the building on fire. “It was really fortuitous, actually,” says Alan. “I did a better job the second time in the layout and the design of everything.”
Now, Alan spends mornings in the shop with his dog before the days get too hot, creating dust and making miracles out of boards and beams. “This place is very modest, but it really suits me,” says Alan. “I’m 70 now, so I’m only good for about a half a day. I go in early and come out of there by lunchtime.” When Alan considers the future of his business, he smiles and says, “I imagine I’ll be working in this shop ‘til the roof comes in.”
