I met Bob Brunk at Asheville Biltmore College (which became UNC-A while we were both there), he was my sociology professor. Sometimes our class met at his house in the evening and I met his wife Jan and two children, Ingrid and Andrew. I babysat the kids a few times so Bob and Jan could have an evening out.
During a class, he asked if any of us would like to do very hard work for no pay helping him log dead chestnut trees on the mountain top property he owned. For some reason, I raised my hand. I was 19 years old. He had a 1956 Dodge Powerwagon truck that would make it up to his property in 4 wheel drive in "granny gear". His wife Jan made us sandwiches, often liverwurst with mustard, to take with us for lunch. We had many exciting days cutting down the trees, cutting them into 8' sections and loading them in the truck. One particular day we cut a tree that was on a hump. When it fell, the butt went up in the air and came down on Bob's head. It made a loud bonk. It was like watching a cartoon as it rocked back up and came back down bonking him again. I can still hear the sound over 50 years later. I couldn't stop laughing, though I tried not to. Fortunately he was OK except for a headache.
Years later, Bob had sold his mountaintop property and purchased a second mountain property outside of Barnardsville, NC on Sugar Creek. He salvaged lumber from buildings being torn down in the Asheville area and we spent many mornings de-nailing all that lumber to build his A-frame home. I helped some weekends during the build. I remember carrying bundles of shingles up the steep roof, walking on 2X4's nailed to the roof with metal strapping. Bob reminded me several times to cut the ends of the "walk boards" next to the strapping so they wouldn't tip when walking on them. On the last row of walk boards near the peak of the roof I left one long, stepped there on the very next trip up with a bundle of shingles and lost my balance and tried to run down the roof unsuccessfully. He couldn't stop laughing at the I told you so moment watching me frantically trying to run fast enough to catch up with my falling body. Somehow, I hit the ground rolling and was only slightly hurt.
A few years later I moved up to Sugar Creek and lived in the geodesic dome house near Bob and Jan. Bob was making furniture by then and going to craft shows. I worked with him in the shop for a year or so learning woodworking as an apprentice of sorts. We would go to Educational Lumber in Asheville and scour their dumpsters (with their permission) for scraps of hardwood lumber. Bob would cut those scraps on the bandsaw into shapes with a handle and I would do all the sanding. I can't even begin to guess how many of those cutting boards I made and tied the leather on so they could be hung up in someone's kitchen. I helped at craft shows like Southern Highlands, Piedmont Craftsmen and Blacksburg. I began to make puzzles for Bob in the early 1970's and still make them today.
During my time as his apprentice he and his family had a container of pottery shards that they had collected from the spring on their property. At night, the family would empty out the box and try to assemble the pieces, just like a three dimensional jigsaw puzzle. During a visit to a woman who grew up on the property she told them that while she also found pottery in the spring, she found many more when her father plowed the upper field. That led to an archaeological dig of the "upper field" led by Warren Wilson college's archeology department. The dig is known as the Brunk site (31Bn151). It is considered a major find of Indigenous pottery circa 1000-1500ad.
Bob was very intelligent, demanding and at times both caring and condescending. My father died when he and I were on the outs. I was 19 and Bob helped me through that. He was something like a surrogate big brother to me over the years, celebrating my successes and scolding me for my shortcomings and poor decisions.
Bob left woodworking to become a very successful auctioneer and formed Brunk Auctions which became one of the most highly praised auction houses in the country. He was an accomplished author and speaker having written books and articles for many publications.
My work life and family obligations plus the three hour distance between us made it difficult to visit very often. I did see him fifteen years ago or so after he was diagnosed with MS. Even then it was obviously painful both physically and mentally. I brought him some of my early woodturnings and he was brutally honest about them, saying he never really considered wood turners artists. He did say that one of my pieces reminded him of Rude Olsonik which was a huge compliment even if it was backhanded.
I have no idea what kind of person I would have become without the friendship and mentorship in my relationship with Bob. I know I loved him and in his own way, I think he loved me too. May he rest in peace.