DATE: Wednesday, July 2, 1997               TAG: 9707020066

SECTION: DAILY BREAK             PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY LOUIS HANSEN, STAFF WRITER 

                                            LENGTH:  109 lines

JUST WHITTLING DIXIE SUFFOLK WOOD CARVER SPENDS HOURS AT HIS ART AND GIVES AWAY THE RESULTS

THERE'S AN EAGLE in that block of Tupelo Gum.

Ward ``Shep'' Johnson Jr. grabs a chunk of light wood off his work table, traces the rough outline of the bird and takes it over to his humming bandsaw.

Johnson's pastime is whittling - discarding wood by chip, dust and curl until form emerges from its wooden cage.

By his own count, Johnson has carved thousands of animals - eagles and elephants, ducks, owls and swans, piebald ponies and an arkful of others.

The 80-year-old Suffolk native has whittled for governors, Masonic grandmasters and grandchildren. Mostly, he whittles for friends.

He practices his self-taught craft in a place where imagination says he should - on a country road, where woodwork has long been a necessary part of making a household, and where whittling has been an American way for decorating it.

``You've got to have patience,'' Johnson says. ``If a man wants to do it, he does it.''

Johnson and his wife, June, 73, live in a one-story home on 100 acres off Quaker Drive in Suffolk, where two cars make a traffic jam and three mean some sort of reunion.

His family has had an address in these parts since 1755. The mail comes to the same box his mother put up in 1922.

Most people don't have the patience to whittle anymore. ``Everybody wants everything to hurry the hell up,'' Johnson says, the old sailor in him coming to tongue.

Johnson served 22 years as a gun technician in the Navy before he retired in 1956. He started whittling toward the end of his last assignment, at Oceana.

He joined a nearby hunt club, and he and other members fashioned and painted duck decoys out of soft wood.

He still has his instinct and an eye for good material.

``Whenever I walk through the woods, or anywhere, I'm always looking for odd pieces of wood,'' he says.

A fallen pine knot becomes a bear's head with a wry smile. A dried vine, sliced in half, becomes a decorative ribbon. Driftwood becomes a walking cane.

His eldest son, Wade S. Johnson III, is an accomplished whittler, too. Wade teaches carving at Rappahannock Community College on the Northern Neck and has won numerous local awards for carving and painting duck decoys.

Wade Johnson's ducks are in several museums, including the Virginia Marine Science Museum.

``Dad opened the door,'' Wade said from his home in Warsaw, Va. ``He allowed me enough freedom to make my mistakes and learn from them.''

Besides his son, Johnson's only taught as couple of people. He's been approached a number of times.

One impatient young man asked Johnson to show him how to carve decoys, ``just like (it was) showing a guy to jack up a car.''

Johnson asked him if he knew what a duck looked like. The young man nodded.

``Get you a piece of wood,'' Johnson said, ``Anything that don't look like a duck, cut it off.''

Fishing through his toolbox in his den, kept handy next to his recliner, Johnson pulls out a small carving knife and demonstrates proper whittling strokes.

``I don't have the patience for TV - it puts me to sleep,'' he says. ``If I got to sit down and watch TV, I'll get a block of wood and start carving.''

The hands are deep brown with suntan, spotted, aged, yet steady. Callous has fought knife to a 42-year standoff.

He admits carving has left him with a few cuts, but he says, ``It keeps your hands limber. I don't have any arthritis in them.''

He offers tips on carving learned from experience.

Ducks are round, so don't leave any flat spots on a decoy. ``Water won't sit on a duck's back.''

Mask your errors. ``If you make a mistake on one side, do it on the other. People can't tell the difference that way.''

He gives away all of his creations these days, to friends who have done favors to his church, the Holy Neck United Church of Christ, or to volunteers and officials who visit his Masonic club, McCallister Lodge No. 185.

A snapshot of Johnson presenting a carved eagle to Gov. George F. Allen hangs on the refrigerator. His works guard the desks of several local elected leaders.

At the Masonic Temple in Portsmouth, his 2-foot-tall, doubled-headed eagle, the group's symbol, is on display.

He spent 100 hours on the piece, sawing away excesses, carving smooth lines around the white heads and burning texture and color into the wings and body feathers.

``That's my favorite,'' he says.

He also whittles miniature ducks, about a dozen an hour, and paints them the colors of different species. He pins earring posts in them and gives the finished jewelry to his wife's friends.

June said she's very proud of him, and, as a matrimonial duty, often suggests projects.

He carved 18 white swans for members of her chapter of the Eastern Star. ``It kept him busy,'' she says.

He has spent much of his retirement fishing in a pond on his farm. He whittles most nights and plans to continue.

``As long as I enjoy it, I'll do it,'' he says. ``You don't get in too much trouble doing it.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photos

JOHN H. SHEALLY II/The Virginian-Pilot

Two waterfowl earring sets and a miniature owl rest in the

80-year-old hand of Shep Johnson, who hand carves thousands of

animals and gives them away. Johnson lives on Quaker Drive in

Suffolk. KEYWORDS: PROFILE BIOGRAPHY SCULPTURE

WHITTLING

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