Published: July 12, 2008 10:31 pm         

Beckley man’s cane making keeps his family history alive

Lonzo Lamarr Ross can be easy to miss as he sits head down, ear phones on and usually by himself with nothing more than a pocket knife and a shard of wood on his lap as he sits across from the Family Dollar Store on South Fayette Street in Beckley.

What can draw a glance from a passing car, though, is a row of the half dozen or so personalized walking canes that Ross carved carefully with his hands of experience.

Some canes glitter blue and gold with paint in honor of West Virginia. Others are more personal or unique.

“Once I start on a stick, I can’t stop until I finish it,” Ross said.

And that is how he spends most of his days. He said some nights he carves his sticks at 3 a.m. The next day he might not work at all. It is a good hobby he is happy to have and thankful he stumbled upon.

His hobby started after receiving a blessing at his ministry several years ago because he was between jobs. He was sitting in an alley two days later and there was a big maple tree. It was a shady spot. It felt like an air conditioner outside in the 90 degree heat. He was roaming the area and just saw a simple stick lying on the ground.

“I took my pocket knife out and just started whittling on it,” Ross said.

That’s the first stick Ross had ever done — perhaps a gift from God in a way.

In Ross’ estimation, he’s probably carved about 1,500 sticks in the period of five years, but that first stick is his most valuable creation.

“It seems like each stick I get better,” he said. “Now I can do anything with a stick. If it can go on a stick, I can put it on there.”

Most of his sticks are for friends because they are amazed at what he can do to personalize a simple piece of wood. He even amazes himself sometimes.



Ross has always had a knack with his hands. Though he has lived in Michigan, Washington, D.C., and College Park, Md., he thinks of West Virginia as home.

He grew up in Tams. He said it was a little coal camp, and everybody in the community was like family. In its “heyday” there were probably 300 people in the whole town.

“They say West Virginia is almost heaven. Tams was heaven,” Ross said.

He moved to Beckley in 1965. Because he lived by the Raleigh Vocational School, during the summertime he used to go hang out in Russell “Doc” Carter’s body and fender class when he was 12 years old.

Doc Carter, who encouraged his craftwork early, was a real mentor for Ross.

“One day he got mad at the (other older) boys. They was making a mess of the bus. He said, ‘This boy right here can paint better than any one of ya’ll in here,’” Ross said in his best impression of a frustrated teacher. “I was 12 years old. I got up on the scaffold beside this bus and he said, ‘Here, show them how to paint.’”

Ross said he couldn’t wait until he got in the 11th grade to get into Carter’s class.

“You might say I was the teacher’s pet,” he said. “I did as much teaching as Doc did because Doc told them this boy could teach you something. ... Really, he’s been the reason for all the success in my life.”

Throughout his life, Ross went on to work for Chrysler and various body shops. He is done with that now, but he was able to transform that skill into his cane making.



Some families have a family quilt. Others maybe collect photographs for a family scrapbook. Lonzo Ross has his family stick, which is perhaps one of his most prized creations besides his first.

There was something more to that stick than the others if he will show it to you. Though scratched and nicked a little, the cane has carved on it the names of Glenna Ross’ — his mother’s — whole family. It contains family members who have all passed. It’s a memorial staff.

His grandfather, Guy Biggers, is positioned high on the stick. Guy used to whittle as well and fashioned tools.

Lonzo is proud of his craft at making canes. He can be riding down South Fayette Street, look over at an abandoned lot and see a cane. All his sticks are original, one-of-a-kind creations because he sees the individuality on each stick he picks up.

“This is a gift from God,” Ross says.