At Large in Ballard: Open to the past
Mon, 04/05/2010
He has almost four decades of experience as a premier woodworker based in Ballard, a state-of-the art workshop in the shadow of the Ballard Bridge and a briefcase that holds the secrets of a famous musical interlude.
Sam Peterson started Associated Wood Products in 1972, but in the early 60s he toured the world with the violinist David Rubinoff as concert pianist and accompanist.
Peterson was studying at Everett Junior College when Rubinoff heard the 20-year-old Peterson play while passing through on a local tour. A notably impulsive man, Rubinoff invited Peterson to join his tour. He wasn’t exaggerating when he told Peterson that he would see the world.
Perhaps because Rubinoff played for live audiences more than he recorded, his name isn’t as well-known as those of his mentors and colleagues: John Phillips Souza, Will Rogers, George and Ira Gershwin.
He had his own radio and then television program as part of the "Chase and Sanborn Hour." In this day and age, who can recall "Chase and Sanborn?"
Rubinoff played for presidents and schoolchildren, Elks Clubs and troops in Vietnam. He played "Danse Russe" and selections from "The Sound of Music."
He was known for his huge appetite, his Stradivarius (then billed as his “$100,000 violin”), his looping signature and the way that he always ended his concerts by reciting the poem, “The Clock of Life.”
To Sam Peterson he was just plain Dave.
In his early 20s, Peterson wanted to be a concert pianist on the order of Van Cliburn.
He was perfecting his interpretation of Mozart’s "25th Piano Concerto" when Rubinoff pulled him into his orbit. For the next seven years, his life was a series of concert dates – up to 121 per year.
He traveled the country three times over and became the advance agent, booking Rubinoff three months in advance in service clubs.
“Home” was the Leland Hotel in Detroit.
After seven years, Peterson realized his window of time to be the next greatest concert pianist had closed. There were teenagers who had better mastery than he did.
At 27, he concluded that if he couldn’t be the best, he would leave the profession. He said goodbye to Dave Rubinoff and returned to Seattle.
After working with the architectural firm Kenton Designs, Peterson started his own woodworking shop. For 35 years he was on Ballard Avenue in a space owned by the Olson brothers.
In the last four decades he has outfitted untold kitchens, boats, office spaces and retail locations, creating cabinetry and signage from his workshop.
“I’m not the best woodworker in this town,” Peterson said looking out at his beautifully equipped shop, “But, I’m one of the best.”
In this main section of his life between his late-20s and his late-60s, Peterson has raised a family, succeeded as a businessman, lost part of a finger to one of his machines and not owned a piano.
Perhaps because orders are down slightly because of the economy, Peterson has more time to reflect. So, he brought out the old briefcase and gave me a call.
The briefcase is filled with programs from all those 121 concert dates per year, the newspaper photographs and interviews, and the letters from Dave Rubinoff to Sam Peterson, written on his special stationary that featured a violin and his trademark signature on the top of the page.
Most people don’t know about Peterson’s past. Fewer and fewer people have heard of Dave Rubinoff, who died days short of his 89th birthday in 1986.
Peterson doesn’t have regrets. By the time he returned to Seattle, he’d had his fill of traveling and playing on the stage.
When the Ballard Bridge is up, the traffic backs up outside his woodshop on Ballard Way. His office walls are completely covered with photographs of his work over the years. Then, there’s the briefcase, open to a past that no one passing by would ever suspect – and Classic KING-FM always playing in the shop.