06/16/2026
June 16, 1986 - - - Forty years ago this morning, I walked through the door of North Adams Mold in North Adams, Michigan to begin my tool and die apprenticeship.
A gentleman by the name of Shannon Rowe saw enough spark in my eyes to give me a chance to learn a skilled trade that has served me well beyond my tool and die years. Born in the hills of Kentucky, Shannon's formal education ended at eighth grade, and he often credited the Army for "taking care of the rest".
The shop was small and archaic by today's standards. We had no CNC equipment at that time, and most of our machinery was from decades prior. Blueprints were hand-drawn and there were no computers to be found...anywhere...neither in the office nor the shop. Back then, hand-built wooden models were used to help create the impressions in tool steel that eventually formed plastic parts of every shape and size imaginable. But in all honesty, the shop turned out amazingly skilled work for our day, and for the technology we had to work with.
Including Shannon, there were only three of us. It was magical world where I, as a young buck, grew wildly and rapidly in my tool-making skills. I learned every process. And by the time I was a young twenty-something I could build out an entire project by myself...not because I necessarily wanted to...but because I had to. It was just the way things were done back then.
But it's a totally different world today. Tool and die shops now have to be incredibly agile and fiercely competitive, and that requires "departmentalization". Essentially that means doing one or two processes and then handing off the project to the next set of skilled hands.
Jarsa & Company could not possibly be where it is today without those early days of my career spent in the machine shop (All 30,000+ hours!). The research and development projects that have gone on to help us produce some of our best works were born there, and I'd be remiss if I didn't stop to honor the man who helped me set it all in motion. The two photos of myself essentially represent the "book ends" of my career.
Shannon passed away in 2000. I owe him a very large debt of gratitude for purposely and patiently seeing me through to becoming a journeyman.
"Rest in peace, dear friend. I still remember the sound of your voice often. Your relentless pursuit of new and exciting things has been a great inspiration to me these past four decades...thank you for being a friend".