Preserving history, one stroke at a Time
October 7, 2020
Above, Tricia and Raine Clotfelter display a print of the Freedom Silo in Monett.
Sheila Harris
Raine Clotfelter, of Branson, is preserving America’s history, one mural at a time. Capturing the spirit of small and mid-sized towns across the nation, his images - rendered in Benjamin Moore acrylic on whatever surface he’s commissioned to embellish – evoke nostalgia for days past and renew hope for our nation’s future.
His latest project, one which has garnered national attention, is the wrap-around mural painted on the old grain silo at the east end of Monett’s Front Street. Commissioned by the Monett Main Street Committee, the intricate patriotic painting took about 18 ½ days to complete.
“That’s not counting the time I spent sanding off and repainting about 2,800 square feet of the mural, almost a third of it,” Clotfelter said. “I was using a new brand of paint, and looked back and realized the clear-coat overlay wasn’t drying like it should. I immediately called the company and discovered I’d mixed the clear coat wrong.”
With no formal instruction in his youth, other than a penchant for doodling and replicating the pencil drawings in his dictionary, Clotfelter has made a career out of his artwork. It began in an unlikely way.
After graduating from high school in the small town of Antlers, Oklahoma, Clotfelter joined the Navy as a regular seaman, where he tried several times for placement in illustrator/draftsman training classes but had no luck
“I didn’t have any background training in art,” Clotfelter said. “In fact, the high school I graduated from was so small they didn’t even offer art classes. The lack of formal training really hurt my chances of getting into draftsman classes, so I contented myself with chipping paint on the ship.
“I was aboard the U.S.S. Newport, sailing for Casablanca,” Clotfelter said, “when I got a break. The chief handed me a life-ring and asked me to paint the name of our ship on it. It had been a while since an American ship had arrived in North Africa, so our arrival was kind of a big deal. The chief wanted to give the life-ring as a gift to Moroccan port authorities.
“In the spirit of the moment,” Clotfelter added, “I not only painted the name of the ship on the life-ring, but I embellished it with a portrait of the ship and the captain, all the while supposing I was doing a good thing. When I gave it to the chief, though, he was a little upset. He told me he didn’t want all that extra stuff on it. At that point, all I could do was apologize, which I did. Profusely. Later, I got a call to the ship captain’s office, and I thought I was in even deeper hot water. When I arrived, I began apologizing again, but he cut me short. He asked, “Seaman Clotfelter, why are you chipping paint, when you can paint murals like this?’”
Soon afterward, Clotfelter found himself on a flight to Norfolk, Virginia, where he was finally able to take the long-desired illustrator-draftsman training. A 22-year career with the Navy followed, which led him to the position of art director for Raytheon, a defense contractor in Dallas.
When his windowless city office became too stifling, he walked away from his Dallas position in search of a fresh start in the Ozarks. In 2003, a year or so after starting two Daylight Donut shops in Cassville, Clotfelter was called back up for a tour with the Navy in Iraq - as a technical illustrator - before retiring from the service in 2004.
He now resides in Branson with his wife, Tricia, who has encouraged him to become a full-time muralist, which is the thing he has always enjoyed doing more than anything.
“I’ve painted about 170 pieces so far,” Clotfelter said. “About 60 percent of them are large murals for cities, museums, or anybody that wants one.
“I like painting in small or mid-size towns,” he said. “People there seem to appreciate the murals a lot more. I enjoy researching the history of those towns then recording pieces of it in a mural.
“Almost every mural I paint,” he continued, “leads to more work for me. Just from painting the grain silo in Monett, I have three more jobs lined up. One of them is for a farmer in Ohio, who saw my work after his sister in Arizona sent him a photo of the silo.”
Clotfelter’s wife, Tricia, is his right-hand lady.
“She helps with the background colors and clear-coat,” he said.
“I leave the details, like the folds on the flag, to Raine, though,” Tricia said.
With the help of a public relations team, Clotfelter is working on an idea for a prospective deal with a television network to serialize his mural-painting.
For “America’s Muralist,” it will be yet another way to preserve America’s history.
A dedication ceremony for Monett’s “Freedom Silo” is planned for Saturday, October 10, at 6 p.m. at 901 Front Street, Monett. There will be food trucks, live music by the Ukeladies, and a showing of the movie “Miracle” at 6:30 p.m.
Everyone is welcome.
Raine Clotfelter, of Branson, is preserving America’s history, one mural at a time. Capturing the spirit of small and mid-sized towns across the nation, his images - rendered in Benjamin Moore acrylic on whatever surface he’s commissioned to embellish – evoke nostalgia for days past and renew hope for our nation’s future.
His latest project, one which has garnered national attention, is the wrap-around mural painted on the old grain silo at the east end of Monett’s Front Street. Commissioned by the Monett Main Street Committee, the intricate patriotic painting took about 18 ½ days to complete.
“That’s not counting the time I spent sanding off and repainting about 2,800 square feet of the mural, almost a third of it,” Clotfelter said. “I was using a new brand of paint, and looked back and realized the clear-coat overlay wasn’t drying like it should. I immediately called the company and discovered I’d mixed the clear coat wrong.”
With no formal instruction in his youth, other than a penchant for doodling and replicating the pencil drawings in his dictionary, Clotfelter has made a career out of his artwork. It began in an unlikely way.
After graduating from high school in the small town of Antlers, Oklahoma, Clotfelter joined the Navy as a regular seaman, where he tried several times for placement in illustrator/draftsman training classes but had no luck
“I didn’t have any background training in art,” Clotfelter said. “In fact, the high school I graduated from was so small they didn’t even offer art classes. The lack of formal training really hurt my chances of getting into draftsman classes, so I contented myself with chipping paint on the ship.
“I was aboard the U.S.S. Newport, sailing for Casablanca,” Clotfelter said, “when I got a break. The chief handed me a life-ring and asked me to paint the name of our ship on it. It had been a while since an American ship had arrived in North Africa, so our arrival was kind of a big deal. The chief wanted to give the life-ring as a gift to Moroccan port authorities.
“In the spirit of the moment,” Clotfelter added, “I not only painted the name of the ship on the life-ring, but I embellished it with a portrait of the ship and the captain, all the while supposing I was doing a good thing. When I gave it to the chief, though, he was a little upset. He told me he didn’t want all that extra stuff on it. At that point, all I could do was apologize, which I did. Profusely. Later, I got a call to the ship captain’s office, and I thought I was in even deeper hot water. When I arrived, I began apologizing again, but he cut me short. He asked, “Seaman Clotfelter, why are you chipping paint, when you can paint murals like this?’”
Soon afterward, Clotfelter found himself on a flight to Norfolk, Virginia, where he was finally able to take the long-desired illustrator-draftsman training. A 22-year career with the Navy followed, which led him to the position of art director for Raytheon, a defense contractor in Dallas.
When his windowless city office became too stifling, he walked away from his Dallas position in search of a fresh start in the Ozarks. In 2003, a year or so after starting two Daylight Donut shops in Cassville, Clotfelter was called back up for a tour with the Navy in Iraq - as a technical illustrator - before retiring from the service in 2004.
He now resides in Branson with his wife, Tricia, who has encouraged him to become a full-time muralist, which is the thing he has always enjoyed doing more than anything.
“I’ve painted about 170 pieces so far,” Clotfelter said. “About 60 percent of them are large murals for cities, museums, or anybody that wants one.
“I like painting in small or mid-size towns,” he said. “People there seem to appreciate the murals a lot more. I enjoy researching the history of those towns then recording pieces of it in a mural.
“Almost every mural I paint,” he continued, “leads to more work for me. Just from painting the grain silo in Monett, I have three more jobs lined up. One of them is for a farmer in Ohio, who saw my work after his sister in Arizona sent him a photo of the silo.”
Clotfelter’s wife, Tricia, is his right-hand lady.
“She helps with the background colors and clear-coat,” he said.
“I leave the details, like the folds on the flag, to Raine, though,” Tricia said.
With the help of a public relations team, Clotfelter is working on an idea for a prospective deal with a television network to serialize his mural-painting.
For “America’s Muralist,” it will be yet another way to preserve America’s history.
A dedication ceremony for Monett’s “Freedom Silo” is planned for Saturday, October 10, at 6 p.m. at 901 Front Street, Monett. There will be food trucks, live music by the Ukeladies, and a showing of the movie “Miracle” at 6:30 p.m.
Everyone is welcome.
Sheila Harris
Raine Clotfelter, of Branson, is preserving America’s history, one mural at a time. Capturing the spirit of small and mid-sized towns across the nation, his images - rendered in Benjamin Moore acrylic on whatever surface he’s commissioned to embellish – evoke nostalgia for days past and renew hope for our nation’s future.
His latest project, one which has garnered national attention, is the wrap-around mural painted on the old grain silo at the east end of Monett’s Front Street. Commissioned by the Monett Main Street Committee, the intricate patriotic painting took about 18 ½ days to complete.
“That’s not counting the time I spent sanding off and repainting about 2,800 square feet of the mural, almost a third of it,” Clotfelter said. “I was using a new brand of paint, and looked back and realized the clear-coat overlay wasn’t drying like it should. I immediately called the company and discovered I’d mixed the clear coat wrong.”
With no formal instruction in his youth, other than a penchant for doodling and replicating the pencil drawings in his dictionary, Clotfelter has made a career out of his artwork. It began in an unlikely way.
After graduating from high school in the small town of Antlers, Oklahoma, Clotfelter joined the Navy as a regular seaman, where he tried several times for placement in illustrator/draftsman training classes but had no luck
“I didn’t have any background training in art,” Clotfelter said. “In fact, the high school I graduated from was so small they didn’t even offer art classes. The lack of formal training really hurt my chances of getting into draftsman classes, so I contented myself with chipping paint on the ship.
“I was aboard the U.S.S. Newport, sailing for Casablanca,” Clotfelter said, “when I got a break. The chief handed me a life-ring and asked me to paint the name of our ship on it. It had been a while since an American ship had arrived in North Africa, so our arrival was kind of a big deal. The chief wanted to give the life-ring as a gift to Moroccan port authorities.
“In the spirit of the moment,” Clotfelter added, “I not only painted the name of the ship on the life-ring, but I embellished it with a portrait of the ship and the captain, all the while supposing I was doing a good thing. When I gave it to the chief, though, he was a little upset. He told me he didn’t want all that extra stuff on it. At that point, all I could do was apologize, which I did. Profusely. Later, I got a call to the ship captain’s office, and I thought I was in even deeper hot water. When I arrived, I began apologizing again, but he cut me short. He asked, “Seaman Clotfelter, why are you chipping paint, when you can paint murals like this?’”
Soon afterward, Clotfelter found himself on a flight to Norfolk, Virginia, where he was finally able to take the long-desired illustrator-draftsman training. A 22-year career with the Navy followed, which led him to the position of art director for Raytheon, a defense contractor in Dallas.
When his windowless city office became too stifling, he walked away from his Dallas position in search of a fresh start in the Ozarks. In 2003, a year or so after starting two Daylight Donut shops in Cassville, Clotfelter was called back up for a tour with the Navy in Iraq - as a technical illustrator - before retiring from the service in 2004.
He now resides in Branson with his wife, Tricia, who has encouraged him to become a full-time muralist, which is the thing he has always enjoyed doing more than anything.
“I’ve painted about 170 pieces so far,” Clotfelter said. “About 60 percent of them are large murals for cities, museums, or anybody that wants one.
“I like painting in small or mid-size towns,” he said. “People there seem to appreciate the murals a lot more. I enjoy researching the history of those towns then recording pieces of it in a mural.
“Almost every mural I paint,” he continued, “leads to more work for me. Just from painting the grain silo in Monett, I have three more jobs lined up. One of them is for a farmer in Ohio, who saw my work after his sister in Arizona sent him a photo of the silo.”
Clotfelter’s wife, Tricia, is his right-hand lady.
“She helps with the background colors and clear-coat,” he said.
“I leave the details, like the folds on the flag, to Raine, though,” Tricia said.
With the help of a public relations team, Clotfelter is working on an idea for a prospective deal with a television network to serialize his mural-painting.
For “America’s Muralist,” it will be yet another way to preserve America’s history.
A dedication ceremony for Monett’s “Freedom Silo” is planned for Saturday, October 10, at 6 p.m. at 901 Front Street, Monett. There will be food trucks, live music by the Ukeladies, and a showing of the movie “Miracle” at 6:30 p.m.
Everyone is welcome.
Raine Clotfelter, of Branson, is preserving America’s history, one mural at a time. Capturing the spirit of small and mid-sized towns across the nation, his images - rendered in Benjamin Moore acrylic on whatever surface he’s commissioned to embellish – evoke nostalgia for days past and renew hope for our nation’s future.
His latest project, one which has garnered national attention, is the wrap-around mural painted on the old grain silo at the east end of Monett’s Front Street. Commissioned by the Monett Main Street Committee, the intricate patriotic painting took about 18 ½ days to complete.
“That’s not counting the time I spent sanding off and repainting about 2,800 square feet of the mural, almost a third of it,” Clotfelter said. “I was using a new brand of paint, and looked back and realized the clear-coat overlay wasn’t drying like it should. I immediately called the company and discovered I’d mixed the clear coat wrong.”
With no formal instruction in his youth, other than a penchant for doodling and replicating the pencil drawings in his dictionary, Clotfelter has made a career out of his artwork. It began in an unlikely way.
After graduating from high school in the small town of Antlers, Oklahoma, Clotfelter joined the Navy as a regular seaman, where he tried several times for placement in illustrator/draftsman training classes but had no luck
“I didn’t have any background training in art,” Clotfelter said. “In fact, the high school I graduated from was so small they didn’t even offer art classes. The lack of formal training really hurt my chances of getting into draftsman classes, so I contented myself with chipping paint on the ship.
“I was aboard the U.S.S. Newport, sailing for Casablanca,” Clotfelter said, “when I got a break. The chief handed me a life-ring and asked me to paint the name of our ship on it. It had been a while since an American ship had arrived in North Africa, so our arrival was kind of a big deal. The chief wanted to give the life-ring as a gift to Moroccan port authorities.
“In the spirit of the moment,” Clotfelter added, “I not only painted the name of the ship on the life-ring, but I embellished it with a portrait of the ship and the captain, all the while supposing I was doing a good thing. When I gave it to the chief, though, he was a little upset. He told me he didn’t want all that extra stuff on it. At that point, all I could do was apologize, which I did. Profusely. Later, I got a call to the ship captain’s office, and I thought I was in even deeper hot water. When I arrived, I began apologizing again, but he cut me short. He asked, “Seaman Clotfelter, why are you chipping paint, when you can paint murals like this?’”
Soon afterward, Clotfelter found himself on a flight to Norfolk, Virginia, where he was finally able to take the long-desired illustrator-draftsman training. A 22-year career with the Navy followed, which led him to the position of art director for Raytheon, a defense contractor in Dallas.
When his windowless city office became too stifling, he walked away from his Dallas position in search of a fresh start in the Ozarks. In 2003, a year or so after starting two Daylight Donut shops in Cassville, Clotfelter was called back up for a tour with the Navy in Iraq - as a technical illustrator - before retiring from the service in 2004.
He now resides in Branson with his wife, Tricia, who has encouraged him to become a full-time muralist, which is the thing he has always enjoyed doing more than anything.
“I’ve painted about 170 pieces so far,” Clotfelter said. “About 60 percent of them are large murals for cities, museums, or anybody that wants one.
“I like painting in small or mid-size towns,” he said. “People there seem to appreciate the murals a lot more. I enjoy researching the history of those towns then recording pieces of it in a mural.
“Almost every mural I paint,” he continued, “leads to more work for me. Just from painting the grain silo in Monett, I have three more jobs lined up. One of them is for a farmer in Ohio, who saw my work after his sister in Arizona sent him a photo of the silo.”
Clotfelter’s wife, Tricia, is his right-hand lady.
“She helps with the background colors and clear-coat,” he said.
“I leave the details, like the folds on the flag, to Raine, though,” Tricia said.
With the help of a public relations team, Clotfelter is working on an idea for a prospective deal with a television network to serialize his mural-painting.
For “America’s Muralist,” it will be yet another way to preserve America’s history.
A dedication ceremony for Monett’s “Freedom Silo” is planned for Saturday, October 10, at 6 p.m. at 901 Front Street, Monett. There will be food trucks, live music by the Ukeladies, and a showing of the movie “Miracle” at 6:30 p.m.
Everyone is welcome.
Sheila Harris
Raine Clotfelter, of Branson, is preserving America’s history, one mural at a time. Capturing the spirit of small and mid-sized towns across the nation, his images - rendered in Benjamin Moore acrylic on whatever surface he’s commissioned to embellish – evoke nostalgia for days past and renew hope for our nation’s future.
His latest project, one which has garnered national attention, is the wrap-around mural painted on the old grain silo at the east end of Monett’s Front Street. Commissioned by the Monett Main Street Committee, the intricate patriotic painting took about 18 ½ days to complete.
“That’s not counting the time I spent sanding off and repainting about 2,800 square feet of the mural, almost a third of it,” Clotfelter said. “I was using a new brand of paint, and looked back and realized the clear-coat overlay wasn’t drying like it should. I immediately called the company and discovered I’d mixed the clear coat wrong.”
With no formal instruction in his youth, other than a penchant for doodling and replicating the pencil drawings in his dictionary, Clotfelter has made a career out of his artwork. It began in an unlikely way.
After graduating from high school in the small town of Antlers, Oklahoma, Clotfelter joined the Navy as a regular seaman, where he tried several times for placement in illustrator/draftsman training classes but had no luck
“I didn’t have any background training in art,” Clotfelter said. “In fact, the high school I graduated from was so small they didn’t even offer art classes. The lack of formal training really hurt my chances of getting into draftsman classes, so I contented myself with chipping paint on the ship.
“I was aboard the U.S.S. Newport, sailing for Casablanca,” Clotfelter said, “when I got a break. The chief handed me a life-ring and asked me to paint the name of our ship on it. It had been a while since an American ship had arrived in North Africa, so our arrival was kind of a big deal. The chief wanted to give the life-ring as a gift to Moroccan port authorities.
“In the spirit of the moment,” Clotfelter added, “I not only painted the name of the ship on the life-ring, but I embellished it with a portrait of the ship and the captain, all the while supposing I was doing a good thing. When I gave it to the chief, though, he was a little upset. He told me he didn’t want all that extra stuff on it. At that point, all I could do was apologize, which I did. Profusely. Later, I got a call to the ship captain’s office, and I thought I was in even deeper hot water. When I arrived, I began apologizing again, but he cut me short. He asked, “Seaman Clotfelter, why are you chipping paint, when you can paint murals like this?’”
Soon afterward, Clotfelter found himself on a flight to Norfolk, Virginia, where he was finally able to take the long-desired illustrator-draftsman training. A 22-year career with the Navy followed, which led him to the position of art director for Raytheon, a defense contractor in Dallas.
When his windowless city office became too stifling, he walked away from his Dallas position in search of a fresh start in the Ozarks. In 2003, a year or so after starting two Daylight Donut shops in Cassville, Clotfelter was called back up for a tour with the Navy in Iraq - as a technical illustrator - before retiring from the service in 2004.
He now resides in Branson with his wife, Tricia, who has encouraged him to become a full-time muralist, which is the thing he has always enjoyed doing more than anything.
“I’ve painted about 170 pieces so far,” Clotfelter said. “About 60 percent of them are large murals for cities, museums, or anybody that wants one.
“I like painting in small or mid-size towns,” he said. “People there seem to appreciate the murals a lot more. I enjoy researching the history of those towns then recording pieces of it in a mural.
“Almost every mural I paint,” he continued, “leads to more work for me. Just from painting the grain silo in Monett, I have three more jobs lined up. One of them is for a farmer in Ohio, who saw my work after his sister in Arizona sent him a photo of the silo.”
Clotfelter’s wife, Tricia, is his right-hand lady.
“She helps with the background colors and clear-coat,” he said.
“I leave the details, like the folds on the flag, to Raine, though,” Tricia said.
With the help of a public relations team, Clotfelter is working on an idea for a prospective deal with a television network to serialize his mural-painting.
For “America’s Muralist,” it will be yet another way to preserve America’s history.
A dedication ceremony for Monett’s “Freedom Silo” is planned for Saturday, October 10, at 6 p.m. at 901 Front Street, Monett. There will be food trucks, live music by the Ukeladies, and a showing of the movie “Miracle” at 6:30 p.m.
Everyone is welcome.
Raine Clotfelter, of Branson, is preserving America’s history, one mural at a time. Capturing the spirit of small and mid-sized towns across the nation, his images - rendered in Benjamin Moore acrylic on whatever surface he’s commissioned to embellish – evoke nostalgia for days past and renew hope for our nation’s future.
His latest project, one which has garnered national attention, is the wrap-around mural painted on the old grain silo at the east end of Monett’s Front Street. Commissioned by the Monett Main Street Committee, the intricate patriotic painting took about 18 ½ days to complete.
“That’s not counting the time I spent sanding off and repainting about 2,800 square feet of the mural, almost a third of it,” Clotfelter said. “I was using a new brand of paint, and looked back and realized the clear-coat overlay wasn’t drying like it should. I immediately called the company and discovered I’d mixed the clear coat wrong.”
With no formal instruction in his youth, other than a penchant for doodling and replicating the pencil drawings in his dictionary, Clotfelter has made a career out of his artwork. It began in an unlikely way.
After graduating from high school in the small town of Antlers, Oklahoma, Clotfelter joined the Navy as a regular seaman, where he tried several times for placement in illustrator/draftsman training classes but had no luck
“I didn’t have any background training in art,” Clotfelter said. “In fact, the high school I graduated from was so small they didn’t even offer art classes. The lack of formal training really hurt my chances of getting into draftsman classes, so I contented myself with chipping paint on the ship.
“I was aboard the U.S.S. Newport, sailing for Casablanca,” Clotfelter said, “when I got a break. The chief handed me a life-ring and asked me to paint the name of our ship on it. It had been a while since an American ship had arrived in North Africa, so our arrival was kind of a big deal. The chief wanted to give the life-ring as a gift to Moroccan port authorities.
“In the spirit of the moment,” Clotfelter added, “I not only painted the name of the ship on the life-ring, but I embellished it with a portrait of the ship and the captain, all the while supposing I was doing a good thing. When I gave it to the chief, though, he was a little upset. He told me he didn’t want all that extra stuff on it. At that point, all I could do was apologize, which I did. Profusely. Later, I got a call to the ship captain’s office, and I thought I was in even deeper hot water. When I arrived, I began apologizing again, but he cut me short. He asked, “Seaman Clotfelter, why are you chipping paint, when you can paint murals like this?’”
Soon afterward, Clotfelter found himself on a flight to Norfolk, Virginia, where he was finally able to take the long-desired illustrator-draftsman training. A 22-year career with the Navy followed, which led him to the position of art director for Raytheon, a defense contractor in Dallas.
When his windowless city office became too stifling, he walked away from his Dallas position in search of a fresh start in the Ozarks. In 2003, a year or so after starting two Daylight Donut shops in Cassville, Clotfelter was called back up for a tour with the Navy in Iraq - as a technical illustrator - before retiring from the service in 2004.
He now resides in Branson with his wife, Tricia, who has encouraged him to become a full-time muralist, which is the thing he has always enjoyed doing more than anything.
“I’ve painted about 170 pieces so far,” Clotfelter said. “About 60 percent of them are large murals for cities, museums, or anybody that wants one.
“I like painting in small or mid-size towns,” he said. “People there seem to appreciate the murals a lot more. I enjoy researching the history of those towns then recording pieces of it in a mural.
“Almost every mural I paint,” he continued, “leads to more work for me. Just from painting the grain silo in Monett, I have three more jobs lined up. One of them is for a farmer in Ohio, who saw my work after his sister in Arizona sent him a photo of the silo.”
Clotfelter’s wife, Tricia, is his right-hand lady.
“She helps with the background colors and clear-coat,” he said.
“I leave the details, like the folds on the flag, to Raine, though,” Tricia said.
With the help of a public relations team, Clotfelter is working on an idea for a prospective deal with a television network to serialize his mural-painting.
For “America’s Muralist,” it will be yet another way to preserve America’s history.
A dedication ceremony for Monett’s “Freedom Silo” is planned for Saturday, October 10, at 6 p.m. at 901 Front Street, Monett. There will be food trucks, live music by the Ukeladies, and a showing of the movie “Miracle” at 6:30 p.m.
Everyone is welcome.
