“Things Old – Part 1”

Our friends and family who have been in our house have undoubtedly noticed, and hopefully enjoyed, the collection of “knick-knacks” that exists here in our home.  Maybe it’s just me, but we seem to have more than most people do.  Sometimes I think it’s a little bit decadent, our single major splurge into extravagance.  The majority of them are Fawn’s, I will claim, although a few are definitely mine.

Fawn can tell you the precise genealogy of each item…each little figurine, piece of crystal, or candle holder…where it was purchased or who gave it to us, when it became ours, the special occasion behind it, and even why it is sitting in that particular place, next to that other particular item.  That’s one of the things I love about her.  A wife could definitely have worse addictions.  I must admit there have been times when I’ve said to her, “Do we really need one more crystal candlestick”?  But in reality I enjoy them all.  Sometimes I find myself staring at a little object and trying to remember where it came from and when and how we acquired it.  One of these days, on a rainy Saturday morning, I’m going to get her to walk me around the house, like a museum patron, notepad in hand, and have her give me the docent’s spiel on every little item in our house.

There are certainly items here that I cherish by myself.  There are special things that I would gather up and take with me if my house was burning down, now that I’m at the age where my arms wouldn’t be burdened with hauling my two little girls out from the inferno.  I think we as humans are just natural collectors.  Perhaps it stems from the “gatherer” part of our “hunter-gatherer” anthropological makeup.  There are several items in our house that I’m convinced only I can see the historical significance of.  And there are definitely items in our house that have really strong sentimental value to me for some reason or another, and to no one else.

Take this old clock, for instance.  The next time you’re in our house, take a good look at it.  It hangs on my office wall, and soothes me with its tick-tocking and the smooth pendulum swing.  Although I’ve only truly owned it for 18 years, having acquired it when my Aunt Isabel died in 1997, this clock has really been with me almost my entire life.  My Uncle Mac (Aubrey McWhirter), who died in 1981, owned this clock.  When I was a child, I would visit Mac and Isabel’s house often.  When I got old enough to handle the task, Uncle Mac would let me have the job of winding this old clock, with this very same key.  That was 50 years ago.  He’d lift me up and hold me to where I could see what I was doing and learn the detailed process of bringing the clock back to life.

I still remember watching him unhook the side latch to open the door on the front of the clock.  We’d take the key that always lay safely inside on the bottom of the wooden housing, and magically awaken it, restoring those reassuring sounds that we could hear throughout the house.  Right side hole – winds the movement.  Left side hole – winds the chimes.  Once the springs were wound tight once again, the next step was to reset the hands of the clock.  I can still see his hand, his forefinger, move gently around the perimeter of the clock face, catching the minute hand (but never the hour hand!), helping the clock catch up to the present, flying through the hours that it had slept through.  He’d tell me to never touch the face, the numbers and the minute division marks on the face, for fear of wearing them off.  And he would NEVER run the clock hands backward, for fear of damaging the clock works.  Even if it meant a complete time-warped eleven hour and fifty-five minute trip around the dial forward, rather than a quick 5 minute trip in the backward direction, we’d take the clock through the long trip forward to the present time.  Once the hands were moved to the correct position, we were ready for the final step.  He’d place his finger right at the bottom of the pendulum and give it a soft push to the left, with just enough force to start it swinging on its own again.

After Mac died, my Aunt Isabel would let me wind the clock when I visited her.  She knew how much I enjoyed this clock.  I recently learned that this clock is a Dufa brand, most likely made in Germany sometime in the late 1920’s or early 1930’s.  It is a P46 model, meaning it has a 46 centimeter pendulum radius.  Although it is definitely an antique now, these clocks were really just run of the mill wall clocks back then.  They were well-known for their beautiful chimes, which resonate from the “largo gong” rods that are mounted on the back of the cabinet.  But the fact that it is still operating and still keeping good time, 85 years after it was made, means that it was well-crafted and certainly a valuable piece, especially to me.

I wind this clock about once a week.  Invariably, when I open the door, pick up the key, tighten the springs, and spin the clock’s hands forward into the present world and out of its slumber, I think of my childhood.  I think of my Uncle Mac.  I picture his finger sliding around the outside perimeter of the clock, pushing the minute hand to its proper place.  I wonder how he came to own this clock.  He and Isabel lived in Germany in the 50’s and early 60’s, I think.  Was this a purchase they made for their home there?  A gift from some friends?  A knick-knack, to go along with others they owned?  They must have enjoyed the constant tick-tock as a background to their lives, just as I do.  Did they measure the duration of their Sunday afternoon naps by counting the chimes, like I do today?  I’m certain that he never would have dreamed, when he took ownership of this clock in post-war Germany, that this clock would be hanging on a wall in a house in Montgomery, Texas in 2015.  Nor would he have ever guessed that it would be such a cherished item.

There they go…11 beautiful chimes…must be time to go to bed!