S1E8 – Joiner’s Bench – Chin Up: How My Wife and Sam Maloof Saved My Woodworking Career

Welcome back to The Joiner’s Bench.

This episode is a little different. No segments, no tool talk—just a story.

A story about failure, persistence, and the kind of lesson you only learn when everything goes wrong.

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The Chair That Almost Ended It All

Back in 2005, I took a class at the Marc Adams School of Woodworking: Build a Sculptural Rocking Chair. It was modeled after the legendary Sam Maloof design—a beautiful, organic form that looks simple until you try to make one.

The class was intense: seven straight days of twelve-hour work. By the end, each of us had a blocky skeleton of a chair. The joinery was done, but none of the sculpting—the part that actually makes it look like a Maloof chair.

We were sent home to finish it.

And I didn’t.

That half-built chair sat on a shelf in my shop for years, silently reminding me that I wasn’t an artist, that maybe I’d bitten off more than I could chew.

The Ultimatum

In 2008, my wife was expecting our second child. A few months before the due date, she gave me an ultimatum:

“Finish that rocking chair—or I’m buying one.”

That was all it took. I spent weeks shaping, sanding, and sculpting, terrified I’d ruin it. Then, just as I was nearly done, I snagged the sander cord, knocked the chair off the bench, and snapped a leg and a rocker clean in half.

I didn’t even look at it. I turned off the lights, walked out of the shop, and told my wife, “Go buy your rocking chair. I’m done with woodworking.”

And I meant it.

The Package

A couple of weeks later, my wife told me she had done something I might not like.

She’d emailed Sam Maloof.

Now, Sam was 94 years old at the time—a legend, still working, still designing, still Sam Maloof. I laughed it off. “He doesn’t even use email,” I said.

But the next day, a package arrived.

Inside was a small sculpted arm from one of Sam’s child-size rocking chairs, inscribed:

“Chin up. — Sam Maloof, 2008.”

There were also printed photos of my broken chair—photos my wife had secretly taken—and handwritten notes from Sam himself showing how to fix it.

And there was a letter.

He wrote that every woodworker goes through this. That the craft challenges us because it should. And that I needed to get back in the shop and finish the chair—for my wife and our new baby.

Signed,

Sam Maloof

Chin up.

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The Lesson

What do you do after that? You go back to the shop.

I didn’t fix it exactly the way Sam suggested—his way was a bit more involved—but I did what I could. I glued, sanded, and re-sculpted. The repairs are still there, but you’d never notice unless I pointed them out.

And the chair? It’s still in our living room today. My wife rocked our youngest to sleep in it. I still sit in it sometimes. It’s not a Maloof chair, but it’s mine—and that’s enough.

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What Sam Taught Me

Sam Maloof taught me something that day that goes far beyond woodworking:

Failure isn’t the opposite of craftsmanship. It’s part of the process.

Every curve on that chair reminds me of what I didn’t know—and what I learned anyway.

Most people never push through that moment of “I can’t do this.” But if you do—if you just keep going—you’ll make something better than you ever thought you could.

And if you’re lucky, maybe someone will remind you to keep your chin up along the way.

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Listen to the Full Story

🎧 Hear the full story in Episode 8 of The Joiner’s Bench Podcast.

Available wherever you get your podcasts—or right here on our website.