Frank Tetzlaff: A Woodworking Genius
By Don Sanford
And the secrets of an old home.
A few weeks ago a friend asked if I’d be interested in a piece of an old windowsill she’d just removed from her house on Lake Mendota Drive. Stenciled on the bottom was an inadvertent time capsule: “Frank O. Tetzlaff, Lot 4, Block 5, Mendota Beach, Mad WIS.”
“We’re replacing that windowsill,” she said. “I looked around on the internet and discovered that you might know something about Tetzlaff. If you want this, come get it. Otherwise it’s going in the wood pile.”
I was there in 24 hours because yes, I do know something about him and that’s because I’m an iceboater. Ask any Madison iceboater if they know who Frank Tetzlaff is, you’ll get an earful. They’ll probably bend your ears for hours about two revolutionary iceboats he designed—the Fritz and the Mary B. In 1930, Frank established himself as one of the foremost iceboat designers in the Midwest when he designed and built the 38-foot Class A[1] stern steerer iceboat, the Fritz, for Madison iceboater and furniture dealer Fritz Jungbluth. The Fritz was a work of art and radically different from her contemporaries. But in iceboats beauty is only skin deep. It’s speed that counts and the Fritz was fast--real fast, winning regatta after regatta, bringing honor to her owner and hometown. In 1947 Madison electrical contractor O. T. Havey asked Frank for a boat that would be faster than the Fritz. Tetzlaff took everything he’d learned from the Fritz and created another Class A stern steerer, the Mary B. The last iceboat of her type built in Madison, she was even faster[2]. In fact, she’s so special that the the Madison Trust for Historic Preservation recognized the work of her current owners, the Ice Boat Foundation, Inc., with a preservation award in 2017.
Iceboats develop their speed--easily four times the wind speed--through a combination of factors. Chief among them is the flexibility of the hull. And to build a hull that flexes without breaking you need to know something about the magic of wood. Frank understood that magic. He understood how to build things from wood with graceful curves. During a 1990 interview Marshall Erdman called Frank Tetzlaff a genius who could build anything out of wood, especially if it had a curve.
Erdman knew because as a young contractor, he had the job of building Frank Lloyd Wright’s Unitarian Meeting House. Erdman had the job, but he had no plans or engineering drawings—just a few sketches. He said that the only man in town who could actually figure out how to construct this building was Frank Tetzlaff. What you see standing on University Bay Drive today is not only the creation of the world’s greatest architect, but also her builder, Frank O. Tetzlaff.
A native Madisonian born in 1889, Tetzlaff dropped out of high school and went to work as a pattern maker in a Madison foundry. A friend later convinced him to finish high school. After graduating from Madison High School in 1909, he become a carpenter. As an apprentice, he worked on the construction of Randall School. A few years later, Frank and his brother built the Florence Apartments at 1129 Elizabeth Street. This was followed by dozens of homes in the Tenney Park neighborhood during the 1920s and 30s. In the early 1940s he served as the construction superintendent for the Badger Ammunition plant between Sauk City and Baraboo. Later, working for the Elkind Company, he built tract homes on the east side and in Monona.
But what about the windowsill?
My friend Tami told me her house was built in 1937 by her grandfather, UW professor and hockey coach Arthur Thomsen. It’s a straightforward white clapboard house typical of the period. Once inside, the graceful curved stairway to the second-floor hints that there’s something special here. And that something is the magic of Frank Tetzlaff.
As for the time capsule. Back in the 1930s, except for the window sashes, doors, railings and a few special pieces, a house was built by a gang of skilled craftsmen on site. Trucks appeared with bundles of wood. Each bundle was stenciled on the outside with the destination. There were no addresses then, just a block and lot number. Tetzlaff’s carpenters apparently used every stick of wood, including the piece with the address. And that piece could have very easily been sawed in half, used for a floor joist or rafter, planed to a different thickness or painted over.
Instead, that piece of wood bearing the name of Madison’s woodworking genius was fabricated into a windowsill that survived for eight decades. Old houses quietly hold their secrets and stories in a wall, behind a cabinet or under a sill. What a thrill when they suddenly emerge.
Thank you, Tami, for thinking of me and Frank.
[1] A Class A stern steerer carries more than 350 square feet of sail.
[2] Mary B has reportedly been clocked at 100 miles-per-hour
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Don Sanford, is a Madisonian, Lake Mendota sailor, iceboater and the author of On Fourth Lake: A Social History of Lake Mendota, first published in 2015 and currently in its second printing. He spent more than a decade collecting the stories of the people, places and events that make Lake Mendota a special place in the hearts of Madisonians past and present.
Don joined the staff of Wisconsin Public Television in 1976 serving as lighting director, production manager, volunteer manager, and occasional on-air host. He earned a B.S. in Communications Studies from SUNY Oswego and an M.S. in Radio, Television, and Film from Syracuse University. Since 2007, he’s hosted his popular Lake Mendota Celebrity Tour for the Madison School & Community Recreation (MSCR) pontoon boat program.