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Forging Youth

Faculty, students and working blacksmiths gather around forges at South Dakota Mines in Rapid City.

Methinks if the Knights of the Round Table sailed to America today, they’d soon be drawn to Rapid City, where young bladesmiths are gaining a reputation on the campus of South Dakota of Mines.

When classes end on Friday afternoons, the youth can be found at an old-style blacksmith shop on the edge of campus, hammering red-hot metal into knives, swords and less-practical items like jewelry, animal likenesses, ornate scrollwork and roses with a burnt aroma. They chatter and share insights as gleaming coals heat the steel to more than a thousand degrees. The pungent smell of melting metal and the clanging of hammers add to an already-unusual campus atmosphere.

Why is an ancient skill developed during the Iron Age such a rage 3,000 years later at a university touted for modern science and technology?”Bladesmithing is a microcosm of metallurgy and the engineering processes associated with modern manufacturing,” explains Dr. Jon Kellar, a veteran Mines professor partly responsible for students walking around campus today with knives and swords.

Fourteen years ago, Kellar was watching a public television show titled Secrets of the Samurai Sword when he noticed that his young son was captivated by the history and science. It dawned on him that youth who are interested in medieval and Renaissance culture might also be intrigued by metallurgical engineering. Soon there was a Blacksmithing Club on campus, and all the school’s faculty embraced the idea of welcoming and recruiting teens who like fire and danger.

School of Mines professors also became involved in blacksmithing organizations, and they urged The Minerals, Metals and Materials Society (TMS) to create an international bladesmithing contest for engineering students.

Before long, students were making swords at Mines, some using iron ore from the Black Hills. Just as Kellar hoped, the school’s awakening to blacksmithing has attracted students.

“I am more of an artistic person,” says Tony Romero, a third-year engineering student,”but the more you get into it the more you realize the connection between art and science.”

Romero says his interest in the artistry of swords and knives has been life changing.”The gateway drug to blacksmithing is blade smithing,” he says.

The blending of art and science is also forging a bond between high school students, South Dakota blacksmiths and major Midwestern manufacturers.

Isaac Hammer (left) and Tony Romero typify Mines students who appreciate hands-on learning, especially when fire and metal are involved.

Companies like John Deere and Nucor Steel, who rely on metallurgical engineers, saw the connection and support the school’s efforts.”If you go to their facilities, you soon see that it’s just blacksmithing on a much higher scale with much bigger furnaces,” says Kellar. Consequently, playing with tongs and hammers in Rapid City has led to careers for students who might never have imagined themselves engineers.

Bladesmithing brought worldwide attention to the School of Mines when a team of students won the 2017 international collegiate blacksmithing competition by forging a 34-inch blade fashioned after a 10th century sword found in a burial mound in Norway. The spine of the intricate blade was made from Black Hills iron ore.

The winning sword — exquisitely etched with artistic spirals and swirls — is now exhibited along with the trophy plaque behind glass in the hallway of the Metallurgy Building. It is the school’s holy grail for students who hope to repeat the accomplishment.

The story of the sword is now campus legend. Isaac Hammer, a junior student who leads the Blacksmithing Club, knows the names of the seven students on the 2017 team and he’s hoping he and his friends can add to the trophy case. The biannual competition was cancelled last year due to COVID-19, but Mines students are practicing to defend the title.

The Blacksmithing Club has also taken on the task of helping younger people; they’ve assisted Boy Scouts with merit badge projects related to metallurgy, and they host an annual summer workshop for high school students called”The Science of Swords.”

Conversely, the collegians receive support from South Dakota’s blacksmiths — especially Jack Parks, who runs Fire Steel Forge at nearby Piedmont. Parks, 72, remembers what it’s like to get started.”I was a young guy who liked doing stuff with my hands and I wanted to work with metal, but all I had was a claw hammer, a hacksaw and an electrical drill and I couldn’t get anywhere. Then I started playing around with fire and heating metal, and I saw how easily it would bend.”

Parks wrangled an apprenticeship with Keystone blacksmith Harvey Brunner, a cowboy who pioneered metal art in South Dakota. Parks practiced it as a hobby for 10 years before becoming a full-time artisan who has gained a reputation for creating architectural accents. He crafted railings for the State Game Lodge in Custer State Park and recently restored historic fences at Mount Moriah Cemetery in Deadwood.

Parks sees his younger self in the students at the School of Mines.”Blacksmithing has something that has always attracted certain people because it has all the elements that kids like,” he laughs.”Fire, smoke, noise and danger.”

Tyler Reinarts says he likes the history behind bladesmithing.

The Piedmont blacksmith credits the Mines faculty for recognizing an unconventional learning opportunity.”They’ve got some pretty sophisticated scientists and engineers there, but the blacksmithing part was lacking and they knew it could be an important part of the program.

“You can lay on your back and think about stuff and it really doesn’t teach you as much as if you do something with your fingers, even if you make mistakes,” Parks says.”There’s a connection between the brain and the fingers. The fingers help the brain learn and I think sometimes that is getting lost.”

Other hands-on blacksmiths who help the youth include Nick Hix, Woody Hanson and Erich Orris of Rapid City, Steve Grosvenor of Beresford, and Clark Martinek, an iron artist in Mitchell.

K.J. Groven, a Sturgis woodworker and blacksmith, is another key volunteer. Groven was born in Skien, Norway and worked on a family farm until 1999 when he emigrated to study mechanical engineering at Rapid City. He’s made a career in South Dakota of creating Scandinavian style buildings, furniture and tools.

Dr. Mike West, a colleague of Kellar, says some of the school’s bladesmithing culture should also be credited to Kevin Gray, who visited campus as a high school student with his handmade 8-inch knife in a backpack. Gray wasn’t carrying the blade for self-defense; he just wanted to show it to someone who might share his interests. Gray did enroll at the School of Mines, but due to financial hardships he left before graduation to earn money in the coal fields of Wyoming.

Believing in Gray’s ability and skills, the faculty developed an independent study program for him that included a special project in the blacksmith shop. He exceeded their expectations, documenting the properties of the steel that he hammered. He graduated, landed a position with Nucor Steel in Norfolk, Neb., and now returns to campus to help younger bladesmiths.

Such is the community growing around metallurgy labs, classrooms and that old-time blacksmith shop below Smelter Hill. Legend says King Arthur created the concept of the Round Table because he wanted his swordsmen to have an equal place. A man like that would love the comradery being forged around steel and fire in the black forest of South Dakota.

Editor’s Note: This story is revised from the July/August 2021 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call (800) 456-5117.

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Willard’s Water

Editor’s Note: Bill Willard passed away in 2009, and John Willard Jr. has retired from CAW industries. John Willard III is now president of the family business. This story is revised from the May/June 1994 issue of South Dakota Magazine. To order a copy or to subscribe, call 800-456-5117.

Dr. Willard in his classroom at the South Dakota School of Mines. Photos courtesy of CAW Industries.


The absent-minded professor who invented Willard Water has been gone for years, but perhaps the best testimonial to his most famous invention is the fact that it is still being used on plants and animals and humans all over the world.

When Dr. John “Doc” Willard died in November of 1991 at age 84, friends and customers wondered what might become of the “super water” he developed in the 1930s as a cleaning agent. “Doc” Willard was not a shrewd businessman. He was too busy studying his product. He had a knack for showmanship, but plenty of scientific diplomas to keep people from calling him a snake oil salesman. His biggest public relations coup came in 1980 when Harry Reasoner of CBS’ “60 Minutes” came to Rapid City and did a feature on Willard Water. Although the cynical Reasoner poked a little fun at the water’s reputation, his report was basically positive and sales skyrocketed. Doc Willard became an overnight celebrity.

But “Doc’s” biggest asset — his scientific background — may have also been a limitation. Because he was a scientist, he hesitated to let anyone else test his product. He went about the research in his own methodical way — slowly and painstakingly and without credibility because he had an obvious vested interest.

After Willard’s death, the business known as CAW Industries was operated by the old scientist’s two sons. John Jr. handled sales and marketing and Bill oversaw production. “Dad was a brilliant scientist and one of the world’s worst businessmen,” laughed John when we spoke with him in 1994. “He caused me a lot of grief over the years.” John said his dad wanted the business to stay small so he could have total control over research, production and marketing. “He was proud to have it as a family business. This kind of enterprise attracts every kind of con man in the United States and dad hated that part of it. Dad was an inventor first, and that was all he had on his mind. He just wanted to help people in South Dakota but he never did get it off the ground. You had to know him to understand. He never did have a lot of tact.”

In fact, it wasn’t until the “60 Minutes” show was televised that John and Bill became active in the business. “When that aired, it was total chaos,” John said.”The only thing that saved us was that my wife comes from a large family and they all helped us. Dad didn’t even have an office back then. He didn’t have any employees. Then in the next year he did over $900,000 in sales.”

Dr. Willard with Harry Reasoner in 1980.

The Willard brothers moved the business into the Rushmore Industrial Park in the early 1990s. Their shiny, clean lab looks like a modern cheese plant. Large water tanks are used to blend the chemicals. It takes a day to do a batch of 300 gallons, and they have the capability of producing up to 1,000 gallons a day. Annually, CAW Industries produce up to 14,000 gallons of Willard Water.

The water is composed of sodium silicate, calcium chloride, magnesium sulfate and sulfated castor oil. The ingredients are combined in a process which makes a caloric particle. The particle has an electrical field surrounding it which polarizes the water, creating an arrangement of water molecules to each other in space that makes it more reactive.

Actually, there are two versions — Dr. Willard’s Water Clear and Dr. Willard’s Water XXX (Dark). The dark version contains activated carbon, amino acid, organic trace minerals and other ingredients from lignite coal deposits in North Dakota. In layman’s terms, said John, Willard’s Water is wetter than normal. It does the same thing water normally does, like cleaning or fertilizing, but does it quicker. They market the water in everything from gallon jugs to four-ounce bottles. Customers are instructed to mix one ounce of Dr. Willard’s Water with one gallon of regular water to form a working solution they call Catalyst Altered Water (CAW). CAW can be drank, mixed with your shampoo, poured over burns, sprayed on the body, used as a cleaner, sprayed on plants or used “in just about any way you might normally use water,” explained John.

Although the sons were more aggressive in business than their father — with the exception of the Reasoner report which he handled masterfully — they shared his belief in the product. “Dad used to refer to his water as ‘serendipity’ and I’ve tried to understand what he meant by that. To him it meant ‘something that happens out of the ordinary that’s good.'”

John overcame an occasional stutter and performed the speaking engagements his father once handled. He enjoyed telling people about the water. But he watched his words carefully, in print and in person. “We are very careful about what we claim the water will do, mainly so we don’t get afoul of the FDA or USDA or any other agency of government. Our business is mostly word of mouth.”

And that’s working pretty well. When we visited the Willards in 1994, Earl and Sara Murray of Sturgis stopped by the plant to buy a pint of Willard’s Water. They immediately began praising its benefits. If we hadn’t been an hour early for the interview, it would have looked like a set-up. But the Murrays, conservative ranch folks who skip the nonsense, didn’t look like they’d be part of any such scheme anyway. And neither do the Willards. But they would have made a good advertisement.

The packaging has changed since Dr. Willard’s days, but the product has not.

When Willard Water users made claims about the product’s benefits, John often thought back to the day when his father first had an inkling there might be something more to the water than its cleansing properties. “He was working in his home lab and burned himself. He put his hand in a bucket of the CAW water and immediately the pain was gone.” Dr. Willard originally came upon the water as an answer to removing pollutants from coal-fired smokestacks. “Dad’s dream was to do something for the environment,” John says. Nobody knows for certain, but his compulsion to help people and the environment may have been heightened due to the ill effects which resulted from some of his early scientific works, namely the deadly Manhattan Project which resulted in nuclear weaponry.

Dr. Willard was born in Iowa and grew up in Madison, where he attended Eastern State Teachers College. In 1928, he married Gwennethe Drake, a nurse, and became a research chemist for DuPont. Among other things, he invented safety glass. He organized his own chemical company before returning to school and receiving a Ph.D. from Purdue in 1940.

While teaching at the Virginia Military Institute, he consulted on the Manhattan Project. He was commissioned in the U.S. Army Chemical Warfare Division. Following the war, he returned to South Dakota and became a chemistry professor at SDSMT in Rapid City.

One of his colleagues, the late Jack Gaines, remembered Willard’s devotion to education by saying,”He was very well respected. He taught nearly all the freshmen and he was just a beloved teacher. Nothing fancy. But a good teacher and a fine gentleman. Sometimes he had 100 to 150 students in class, and fortunately he had one of the biggest offices because it was often full of students.”

Dr. Willard retired from the School of Mines in 1973 to devote all his energies to development of his “super water.” His wife died in 1969. Dr. Willard’s grandson, John Willard III, has been running the company since John Jr. retired and Bill’s death in 2009. Despite all the changes, CAW Industries will probably always be affected by the spirit of Dr. Willard. “After dad died I made a lot of changes,” admitted John Jr. “And I often wondered if he approved of the way I was doing things. I think he did because deep down, we wanted to help the people of South Dakota and the world just like he did.”

One thing that won’t change at CAW Industries is the water. Their loyal customers say it’s working just fine.