In our lives, there are people who make a difference in the way we live. Charles E. Schumacher was one of those people.
Around 1970, Charlie began a long and wonderful career at the Strater Hotel. His focus was to help bring the hotel to the level of elegance that was envisioned by its owners. This was no small task, and it took him about 45 years to help with the transformation. Neither his age nor his retirement would get in the way.
Charlie had a notion to retire around 1995, and he was given the go-ahead. He was also informed that, “quitting wasn’t an option.” So, after his “retirement,” he continued to work for the Strater the rest of his life. During his retirement, he helped to craft and shape both furniture and people right up to the very end of his 85-year life. Gerrie, Jacquie, Mike, Tom, Bill, Kim, Robin, Jeff and I were just a few.
He could size you up by looking at your pocketknife. “Each tool has a purpose,” he would say, “but it can do so much more than it was designed to do if you take the time to study it and treat it with respect.” Tools of the trade are the things that you need to get the job done. A dull pocketknife would tell him a lot about its owner and their work.
Charlie’s work at the Strater Hotel began with a construction job to make a dozen tiny rooms into the Presidential and Governor’s suites. He and his good friend Bill Miller worked for Guy Loether on the project. After finishing that project, both came to work full time for my parents, Earl and Jentra Barker, at the Strater. His focus was toward improving the hotel’s infrastructure such as the electrical, plumbing, air-conditioning and general internal workings. It was slow going at first, until both cash flow and Charlie’s enormous potential were revealed. Then, in the early 1980s, Charlie’s focus migrated with his new boss – as I wanted to see what all he could do.
I discovered that Charlie had a real love of furniture making and fancy wallpaper hanging, which he learned in high school. That was at an age that “kids aren’t too smart to learn.” He applied this knack in the hotel and made antiques into gems and show pieces. He also loved a good challenge and was highly motivated by the “impossible.’ He looked at tough challenges as those requiring some good “cogitatin’.”
All of us who worked with Charlie would line up to attest that he wasn’t always easy to work with. He never had a knack for sugar coating any of his thoughts. But barebones truth has a wonderful way of pealing back the barriers to learning, which really helps those who really want to learn. It separates those who “do” from those who “watch.” Never have your hands in your pocket unless you are reaching for your keys. Charlie didn’t have much time for watchers and he would quickly whisk them on their way, sometimes with their tails between their legs.
Another important lesson Charlie would teach is to be OK with mistakes. He would say, “Most mistakes can be fixed and we all make them, but if you don’t learn from them then you just aren’t paying attention.” A repeated mistake would certainly draw quick fire from Charlie that would normally start with a sharp glance, few choice words and your personal name to get your full attention.
“Mistakes are a very important part of our lives,” he would say, “as long as they aren’t the same ones or the kind that make you lose a finger in the saw. If we gauge each failure and then move on, then we should take value in a good mistake. If you aren’t learning, then you aren’t living.”
By this standard, Charlie never stopped living each and every day of his 85 years.
Charlie’s knack for craftsmanship encompassed architectural woodworking, plumbing, electrical, drafting, furniture making, cabinet making, jewelry making, silversmithing, welding, water color painting, general construction, tile work, model airplane construction, wooden clock making, wagon restoration and construction, house painting, wallpaper hanging and being a husband and partner.
What I can say for sure is that, without Charlie Schumacher, the Strater would be just a shadow of its current stature. As Charlie’s boss, I did find out what he was capable of doing, but it took me my entire career to do so. He simply took on each project, one by one, and treated the hotel like it was his own. And in many ways, it was.
It turns out that Charlie’s “boss,” took lessons every single day we were together, and I know that he did the same.
Charlie and I worked like partners for over 35 years, and while you won’t see him at the open house any more, I know that he will live on with each of the people he shaped and even the ones he sent scurrying on their way. As Charlie would often point out, “nothin’s forever,” and he knew that we’re all meant to pass on. But I do know that while nothing is forever, some things last a very long time and the memory of what he gave us is one of those enduring things.
Charlie requested that there be no service after he is gone. However, next time you walk through any part of the Strater, take a moment to look at the detail around you. Each little piece is lovingly crafted by a man or his apprentice who really cared how it turned out. That is a tribute that anyone would treasure.
As his daughter, Gerrie says, it’s time to say “Good night, Charlie.” But Charlie can rest assured that his life’s work has great meaning that will be cherished through the beauty and the lessons he crafted along the way.
Rod Barker is president and chief executive officer of the Strater Hotel in Durango. Reach him at RBarker@Strater.com.
