JANUARY 2013 FLYINGCHANGES.

COM 13 12 FLYING CHANGES JANUARY 2013

O
utside of Bend, Oregon Hans Biglajzer works in a small
shop under the shade of tall pines and rs. He and
his wife chose the setting because it reminded them of North
Carolinawithout the heat. In his unassuming shop, he works
the age-old magic of crafting a saddle from start to nish. Even
more remarkable than the artistry of his craftsmanship, is his
good humor and optimism despite surviving the horrors of a
concentration camp.
Before we met, I was concerned that Hans might be a reclu-
sive, introspective mana tough interview subject, private about
his life and given to the one word answers all reporters dread.
Instead, I spent a wonderful afternoon with a true craftsman.
He is one of the few remaining people in this country with the
skill, knowledge, and patience to create a ne English saddle
from scratch. Far from withdrawn, Hans enjoyed sharing with
me stories of the people hed met through the craft of saddle
making.
Standing in his shop, lined with hand tools, leather, saddle
templates, a saddle tree and a robust commercial sewing machine,
Hans showed me photos of many of the saddles hed worked
on over the years. For anyone who appreciates ne saddles, it
was like sneaking a peek at Santas workshopI ran my hands
over ne leather and marvelled at the tools used to craft a ne
saddle. Surprisingly, much of the work is done by hand.
While Hans is clearly uncomfortable being called a Master
Saddler, his reputation is such that people from all over the
United States have requested his saddles and sought him out for
repairs. His work is of such high quality that he has been hired
to do saddle restorations for museums including military saddles,
sidesaddles, and Victorian saddles. Just as someone owning a
Hans Biglajzer saddle could tell a fascinating story about the
maker, Hans also wonders about the saddlemakers before him.
So many saddles, so many stories, Hans said. I wonder
what happened to the men who made them.
Born in Germany in 1926, Hans has led an amazing life. He
doesnt recall exactly when or how he learned to make saddles
but the skill most certainly saved his life. When World War
II began, he and his family were moved to the Lodz Ghetto
where Hans was put to work making leather packs and gear
for the German army. His father died there, from tuberculosis.
The family was later forced into Auschwitz, the largest of
the German concentration camps, where Hans labored in what
was dubbed the Saddle Resort. Conditions were horric, with
German soldiers joking that the distant smokestack, Was the
only way out.
Hans deed the odds and survived. He was moved on to the
Dachau camp, in Bavaria where his leather skills were valued
enough to keep him alive. After six years of imprisonment,
Hans was freed in 1945 when the war ended. His mother and
brother had disappeared, never to be found again.
Despite the horrors and loss of war, Hans remains an optimistic
man who clearly relishes the simple things in life: a wife of 52
years (Shes a keeper, dont you think? he jokes); a home in a
beautiful setting; clean (bordering on corny) jokes; and a glass
of Black Butte Porter beer (his favorite and mine) at the end of
By Lauren Davis Baker

the day. While some people have been destroyed by war, Hans
remains optimistic and clearly looks for the good in people.
Hans came to the U.S. in 1947, arriving in New York City.
Speaking only German, he applied for a job with Miller Sad-
dlery. Fortunately, the foreman and boss spoke German. They
said, see what he can do and gave me a chance, Hans said.
Ive never been without work.
When I grew up, there were generations of people with skills
developed over time, Hans explained. Tailors, furniture mak-
ers, plumbers. Mens suits lasted forever. You bought furniture
and it lasted a lifetimenot like today.
Young people dont want to go into this (saddle making)
now; theres not as much appreciation for the trades, Hans said.
Hans worked in New York for 10 years, then moved to
Southern Pines, North Carolina. Horse people ocked to the
area for live hunts, trotting races, and racehorse training. Hans
met his wife there and, while the couple loved the area, the eight
months of hot and humid weather became too much.
An opportunity arose to move to the West Coast, to help an
old-time Western shop make the transition to English. While
Hans knows how to make Western saddles and has restored
sidesaddles and military saddles, he prefers English.
There are very few saddle makers as such, Hans said.
Just people who work on them. He regrets that people who
factory-make saddles only work on one part of the saddle.
They dont see the big picture or understand what makes a
saddle work, he said.
In the early 1960s Hans purchased his own shop in Clacka-
mas, Oregon. I placed an ad in The Lariat, he said. It did
exactly what I wanted.
When he moved from Clackamas to Bend, 38 years later,
Hans placed a half page ad in Flying Changes magazine (I
remember taking the call). The phone company promised to
forward my calls (from Clackamas to Bend), Hans said. But
they quit after two days. Fortunately, Hans reputation and
that one ad helped his clients follow him.
Two years ago, Hans stopped making saddles from scratch.
So if you own a Hans Biglajzer saddle, you have a collectors
item. Hand-making saddles to order has become too expensive
in recent years. Hans has seen the number of tanneries decrease
from about 300 to 30 in the U.S. In addition, tanneries want to
sell leather in large amounts. Keeping a large inventory of leather
on hand is becoming too expensive for individual saddle makers.
After World War II, companies in England stopped making
tools, he said. Big name saddleries were bombed out and didnt
come back. With tools and materials (such as saddle nails,
ax linen, and staple)s more difcult to obtain, many smaller
saddle manufacturers dropped out. Production has become
more mechanized. Synthetics used instead of real materials.
Hans shows me the ax linen he uses in the saddle tree. While
many saddle makers use synthetics, Hans refuses to compromise.
As long as I live, it will be this, he said. It lasts and acts as
a suspension bridge. People dont know or care. Most buyers
dont really know what theyre buying.
Hans has seen fads come and go. Americans always want
something new, Hans said. Brown saddles, black saddles,
knee rolls grow, cantles go up and then down, ber glass trees,
treeless saddles, synthetics. As you might have guessed, Hans
Hans Biglajzer
So Many Saddles, So Many Stories
prefers the classic materials: a wood tree, ax linen, and ne
leathercarefully sewn together with care and patience.
In a time when the trend is toward fast, cheap, and mass-
produced, an emphasis on quality and pain-staking attention
to detail is inspiring and comforting. On my next trip to Bend,
I brought Hans an old Keiffer saddle of mine for repairs and a
growler of his favorite beer. The beer was the least I could do
to thank him for an afternoon spent in such good company.

Watch: Leather Jude
In 2009, Evan Pondel, a Los Angeles-based journalist
who has written for The Wall Street Journal - WSJ.com,
The Christian Science Monitor, Reuters, NYTimes.com,
Los Angeles Magazine, GlobalPost, and other publications
made his editorial debut with Leather Jude.
The documentary highlights Hans Biglajzers life and
craft as a saddle maker. The lm won rst place in the Los
Angeles Museum of the Holocaust Short Documentary
Contest and debuted at the Santa Barbara International
Film Festival.
Well worth watching, visit www.evanpondel.com to
see it.
The proof is
in the details
Hans saddles have become collectors items.