Author: Michelle L. Carr, Curator of Special Programs
Sturdy. Practical. Dependable. While these qualities are hallmarks of the traditional baskets that Neal Thomas expertly creates by hand, they could just as easily describe the man himself.
For over half a century, Neal Thomas of Wendell has been making white oak baskets. Now 83, Thomas is one of the few remaining basket makers who harvests the trees for his wood and prepares each splint by hand. His artistry garnered him a 2023 North Carolina Heritage Award. Given annually by the North Carolina Arts Council, the awards honor the state’s most eminent folk artists.
Thomas, whose twinkling eyes and engaging grin belie his age, started making baskets when he was in his 20s. It’s a slow and meticulous process he learned from a man named Herman Holden from Johnson County. It took him almost a year, Thomas estimates, to learn how to make a good, strong basket.
“It’s some hard work, I’ll tell you right now. There’s a lot of work in those things,” Thomas notes, indicating his baskets. “But people like them though,” he declares proudly, “because they last a long time. And the older they get, the prettier they get.”
The key to making his baskets is finding the right tree. Only white oak will do. As Wake County has become more developed, white oak trees have become scarce.
“Now you can drive a hundred miles and can’t hardly find any. They’re just hard to find,” says Thomas. He relies on local landowners to inform him of trees on their property that can be chopped down or have fallen in a storm. Thomas picks his trees by touch, drawing upon his five decades of experience to know if a tree will yield a quality basket.
After the tree is cut and hauled to Thomas’s work shed, the real work begins.
Using hand tools, Thomas quarters the logs and removes the bark, or as he puts it, “busts them up.” Once cut into smaller pieces, he uses a sharp blade to deftly extract and shape strips of the oak. It’s a precision skill that takes patience and hard work, not to mention finesse. If the splints are too thick, they won’t bend, and if they’re too thin, they will break.
Once the splints are prepared to his satisfaction, Thomas can begin weaving. After Thomas creates the base—which resembles bicycle wheel spokes—he adds the splints. Nimbly he weaves the strips, alternating over and under the base splints. He continues this process up the sides, pushing each splint down until it sits snugly on top of the previous row. When the basket reaches its desired height, Thomas finishes the process by adding a rim and a handle.
Thomas admits he doesn’t make as many baskets as he used to. “I’ll keep doing it as long as I can do it, as long as I’m able,” he vows. However, he would like to pass the tradition on, but everyone he has tried to teach has given up because it’s too much work.
Staring off in the distance, Thomas reflects on the future. “I wish somebody would learn how to do it, though. When I stop messing with them, then it’s gonna be a lost art, because nobody’s gonna know how to make them.”
The somber moment passes quickly, as Thomas flashes his mischievous smile and asks, “Know anyone who wants a good basket?” If it’s a Neal Thomas basket, the answer is a resounding yes.
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This article was originally published in Circa Magazine, the museum’s biannual publication made possible through the generous support of the North Carolina Museum of History Foundation.