My first job in Mandan was at the Mandan News and Finder. It was back then, in the late 1970s, that I was introduced to the town that celebrates the Fourth of July like no other. There were decorations, fireworks, rodeos, children’s events, and Art in the Park. It was at a booth in the park where I discovered, the love of my life.
We visited the Knight Cloth booth and for the first time, I touched a handwoven dress priced at $100. I must have been recently married or seriously dating my children’s father because I remember sitting at the kitchen table trying to figure out how to let go of the money for that dress. We decided against it.
I was nonetheless fascinated by the feel, color, and texture of that fabric. Sometime later, my friend Debbie showed me a rigid heddle loom and a piece of weaving she had done. Oh my. A door opened and I ran right through.
For about $30, I purchased the last little loom from the craft store located in the strip mall off Washington. Ah, I wish I could remember the name of the place. It closed shortly after that, replaced by larger fabric chain stores that began to sell craft supplies.
All I needed was yarn. It was way before the Internet and ordering something with the wave of my iPhone and Apple Pay, but there in Mandan was a yarn shop called Lorna’s. It was an old house near downtown. So between the two, I was set to begin weaving my fabric, the beginning of a beautiful love story that lasts today.
Believe it or not, I still have that first piece of weaving on that little loom. It’s been washed and worn, and raveling in the middle, but it makes my heart race to see my handiwork.
From there, things began to heat up. I told people there was not enough fabric in the fabric store so I had to weave my own. It wasn’t very efficient to weave large bolts of fabric on that little loom, so I took a sewing job for a local Mandanite and earned enough money sewing Renaissance-reenactment clothing for her son to purchase a 4-harness Harrisville floor loom.
I was off to the races. I couldn’t weave fast enough beginning with rugs, placemats, and dish towels. Eventually, I needed to cash flow my habit and started selling small items like mug rugs at vendor shows. Once our family moved into a reasonably sized house in Mandan, the old Kelsch house on Fifth Ave. NW, I invested in an even larger loom (an AVL 16-harness dobby loom) and began my business Sue B. Weaves.
During the winter months, I wove large bolts of white and black fabric with textures and patterns. Then spent several months dying and sewing that fabric into beautiful jackets and dresses. I developed a technique of dying and discharging dye to put designs into the fabric reflecting my love of the river.
After learning how to weave, design, and sew, I have to learn how to run a business and enter art fairs. My first show was the street fair in Bismarck. I sat through two grueling days of negative comments from people selling only one Ruana and making enough money to pay back the fee to enter the show. Did I quit? Well, heck no. I branched out.
Mandan’s Art in the Park was next followed by the show on the Capitol grounds in August. I loved being a part of the art community. It had been a lifelong dream to be an artist. Here I was surrounded by the likes of Pat Gerlach, Bill Baron, and Frosty Paris.
Art shows were carefully juried back in the 80s and 90s, but I managed with the help of my mentor Pat to travel to places like Oklahoma City, Jackson Hole, Sun Valley, Bozeman, Minneapolis/St. Paul, Chicago, Texas, and Ohio selling very expensive clothing. I was a world-class traveler with my sidekick son, Adam. My daughter wasn’t too fond of the lifestyle. No showers, eating apples, and sleeping in cheap hotels to save money.
Things changed as art shows have become more crafty and people began reselling things made in China. My children grew up and needed a more stable mother so I took a job at the Mandan News reporting on the Fourth of July.
I sold that first floor loom and many after that. I’m pretty good at building looms and have taught weaving classes. Once I moved to the farm north of Mandan I had to sell that very large AVL. But I caught the bug again when I moved from editor of a newspaper to a local food advocate. It fits the homestead lifestyle for sure.
Fortunately for me, the woman who bought that loom sold it back to me for what she paid for it and now when I feel I need a gift or a new scarf I can whip one up in an afternoon.
It all started with a dress.
Oh, the memories of the Fourth of July. May you make a few memories this week with your family. Happy Holiday.
INDYchildrendotme 
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