By Olivia Snyder
DUNNVILLE—A large metal dinosaur greets passersby travelling down Highway 3 northeast of Dunnville where sculptor Bob DeVries and his wife Mary welcome visitors to explore their unique property.
After stopping to wonder at the dinosaur, visitors’ attention is drawn down the laneway by a cartoonish elephant bothering a stately gentleman reading the news, an imposing row of concrete Easter Island heads, and several animated members of DeVries’ metal menagerie.
High in the sky a parachuter floats toward the ground beside his biplane. 
DeVries shows off his balancing acrobat sculpture. As long as the bottom connection point is perfectly aligned with the top pivot point, the structures in between can sit at any angle. The talented acrobat spins freely on top of the tower – except when a class of Grade 1 kids comes and DeVries ties him to the shop wall, just in case. 
These dogs are modelled on DeVries’ own pups, set forever to be chasing the racoons. 
a jazzy band made from recycled fire extinguishers, acetylene tanks, and car parts. 
Bob Devries of Dunnville with his creations 
Bob DeVries poses with his largest creature, a T-rex welded from scrap metal. It surprises drviers on Highway 3, who often pull in for a closer look.
DeVries began his craft as a young boy living near Mississauga. Around age 12, he learned to carve wooden animals, toys, and structures. He continued carving through his teens and young adulthood, teaching other boys in clubs and classes. After he moved to Dunnville, got married, and settled into work and family, he turned to bigger art: chainsaw carving.
To the left of the lane, behind the house, is DeVries’ shop. The floor is full of works-in-progress, the walls are covered in small projects, and the loft houses folksy chainsaw-carved moose, bears, and people. During the Covid-19 years, he partnered with another local artist to sell his carvings. DeVries would craft an animal or person, then his partner would sand the edges, add fingers or fur, and “put a little twinkle in their eyes.”
About seven years ago, DeVries suffered a stroke after retiring from his work in agriculture construction.
“I call it a ‘stroke of luck,’” laughed DeVries, as he explained that after the stoke he began creating with metal instead of wood. “I wanted to leave a bit of a legacy for my grandkids. The wood will last for 10, 20 years. The metal will last forever.”
His grandkids are not the only children who take delight in his art. Around the corner of the shop stretching all the way behind the house and back to the road, sculptures and scenes fill the yard. There is a four-wheeler path worn through the cornfield showing where the neighbour kids – and grown-ups – run over to play.
“(My neighbour) just had a birthday last week and brought his friends over to see,” said DeVries. Mary clarified, “The dad, not the kids!”
Once a year, Dunnville Christian School’s Grade 1 class takes a field trip to see the sculptures as well. When the bus stops, the teachers and parents herd the children straight to the backyard.
“They used to come with their notebooks and papers, and they had to walk around writing down what they saw – what structures they liked and why,” remembered DeVries. “Now they’re so excited, because they’ve heard about this trip from the older kids – the teachers just let them run free!”
While the children roam and climb, the adults watch from the “teacher’s lounge,” a cozy spruce grove filled with familiar and exotic creatures. To the left of the opening in the trees, an owl with wings that flap open and shut perches on a metal stake. Next to the owl sits a motherly kangaroo with twin joeys in her pouch. DeVries made the kangaroo to welcome his daughter when she visited from Australia.
“I wanted her to feel at home,” he smiled.
Across the grove is a fish out of water, covered neatly with the heads of railroad spikes for scales. Right in the middle stands a large camel that really spits, and beside it is a grizzly bear pumping a railway handcar.
On the other side of the trees the railroad continues. A moose drives a train engine while a bear, a crow, and a cow stand lookout. The model engine belongs to the “T.H. & B. Railway,” which, according to the sign, can stand for “Toronto, Hamilton, & Buffalo,” “Tired, Hungry, & Broke,” or “Tramps, Hobos, & Bums,” as the conductor chooses. DeVries gazed proudly at his train while explaining “the kids can climb right inside and there’s a good loud bell to ring.”
All of the sculptures are interactive, tell a story, or both. Beside the shop a band dressed all in black with bright red shoes holds a jam session. Band members – or visiting kids – play drums, guitar, bass, saxophone, and piano. The miniature piano has ornate legs and keys that almost look real enough to play. DeVries remembered, “When it was new and freshly painted, one little girl climbed up and tried to play it. That was the best compliment I’ve ever had, that she actually thought she could play it.”
Another scene shows an organ grinder with his monkey: “Kids don’t know what it is. The last one I saw was 40 years ago. I want to teach them about things they don’t see every day.”
The yard is full of similar “things they don’t see every day,” including a crocodile made of chains from old hay elevators, a juggling unicyclist, and a parachuter jumping from his airplane.
Though the neighbour kids love to explore DeVries’ yard, his work impacts adults just as much. DeVries remembered that when he first moved to Dunn-ville, “no one knew me from Adam” until one Sunday at church a man invited him to work in his shop. Since then, DeVries has returned his generosity by giving the same welcome to others.
One day, a man DeVries knew but had not seen in awhile came to the shop. When he was young, the man was a risk-taker full of fun, but he had since struggled with alcoholism. By the time he came to see DeVries, the man was separated from his wife and his children no longer spoke to him. The man was lonely, needing a friend and a little hope.
The man brought a charming metal spider and asked if DeVries could make something like it. Years before, the man had been a skilled welder, able to make similar pieces better even than DeVries, but his hands became unsteady due to alcohol use. DeVries invited the man to work with him, and together the two crafted several small sculptures.
DeVries rekindled his friendship with the man, who began to visit his wife and children again, bringing a sculpture each time. The man’s family began opening the door – at first to see what new curiosity he had brought, but eventually to talk to him again. DeVries’ welcoming shop, friendship, and art gave his friend the chance to reconnect with his family.
Through artwork, friendship, and hospitality, Bob and Mary DeVries have crafted their home into a place of fun, learning, and community. The sculptures are the visible image of a deeper legacy that will outlast both his life and the place he fills with his creativity.
