The red-hot tip of a twisted piece of wrought iron glowed as Gene Knight removed it from the forge in his cluttered shop, a “smithy.”
In minutes, his calculated, precise hammer blows and accompanying twists, gave a shaft of scrap metal a new life as a decorative fireplace poker.
Gene’s expert hammering as a third-generation blacksmith allowed him to change that piece of iron, give it a new life. Likewise, life would deal Gene a hard blow and change him.
In 1997, he suffered a near-fatal heart attack.
It stole his signature — a strong, burly and supremely confident man whose display of ironworking proficiency leaves its footprint throughout the Murray area, from farms to yards to living rooms.
An assortment of collected newspaper and magazine clippings scattered around his home and shop attests to his metalworking expertise.
So Gene, 76, drew on his iron will and re-forged his life in the years following his heart attack.
He believes his deep Baptist faith and firm belief in God’s will saved him in order to allow him to leave a mark of charity and volunteerism to Murray — along with his gift of metalwork.
“I knew that God did not take my life because I had a greater purpose, and that was to help others,” he said.
Gene undertook a number of volunteer causes, including fundraising and directing activities for seniors at the George Weak’s Community Center.
“The fire in the forge is like the word of God,” Gene said. “It grows hotter and hotter until it heats the iron to the point that it can be shaped, much like the word of God warms the person to the point that they’ll accept God as their savior.”
Gene’s health wanes and his aged body can challenge Gene’s relentless spirit, but he accepts his new life and role.
He no longer always serves as the go-to blacksmith for local farmers seeking farm tools or for Murray’s well-to-do seeking decorative fixtures for homes with a personal touch. Those services come at a premium now.
His once clean and orderly shop — built by his grandfather and then maintained by Gene — sits cluttered and in disrepair with an assortment of scrap metals, nuts and bolts, and debris piled high.
He loves the limited amount of metal work he can do.
And his eyes still burn as bright as his forge — fired with enthusiasm for a newfound life of service in the community.
