![]() 10/14/2013 at 10:28 • Filed to: oppositelock | ![]() | ![]() |
As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had a thing for tools. Sometimes, I will get more wrapped up in the actual tools rather than the particular trade or technology in which they are used. Maybe it’s my mild OCD, or possibly the interest in the precision and engineering that go into making these tools. They’ve just always grabbed my attention. I was recently in my late Grandfather’s work shed feeling pretty desperate as I looked around at the tools that he left behind. A sense of hopelessness set in while greasing some hydraulic jacks and air tools that were beginning to oxidize because I knew there was so much more to be done. But why? The tools were not a physical manifestation of my Grandfather or at least not to me as I’m not the overly spiritual type. That’s when I started to put some thought into what these lifeless, physical objects mean to me.
In order to understand why my Grandfather was special to car nuts like us, I guess a quick bio is in order. At some point in the 30’s my Great-grandfather started a General Mechanics Shop in Cuba and for a long time it was the only shop in their area; it continued to be the primary shop up until its demise. They began working on tractors and eventually moved on to automobiles and trucks as they became commonplace. Things were definitely different back then, especially for a young tradesman in a country that did not afford the necessary tools for your trade. If a customer came in with a ’50’s Chevy that needed a brake job, you couldn’t just pull the parts off the shelf. My Grandfather learned at a very early age to refurbish parts, fabricate replacement parts (brake shoes and pads in this example), and recreate special OEM tools that were not available to him. Business was booming right up until the mid 60’s when the Castro regime took over and told my Grandfather that the business belonged to the people and as such it will be taken over for the greater good. Being strong believers in capitalism and opportunity, my grandparents grabbed their children along with whatever memories they could and left their country in the early ‘70’s to find a new life. (Now, before you go and ask me what the raft was made of, remember this was a different time…they left on a plane) As with many other families leaving the country at the time, mine went to Spain to flourish and begin a new life…unfortunately Spain did not have the best economy at the time and eventually they came over to the States and settled in New Jersey. At the time, Jersey afforded work and an opportunity to establish roots. Years of hard work and sacrifice eventually brought the family to Miami. (This kind of explains my weird background)
As a kid, I think we all can remember back to a time when we thought one of our family members was some sort of superhero. For me it was my Grandfather, and I guess if you had to ‘classify’ his strength it would have been the ability to fix ANYTHING. My earliest memories of him were “MacGyver-like” and there was nothing he could not fix, fabricate, or improve. Combine that with the stories they told me of him surviving a gas station explosion and a car accident in which the car almost blew up and, well you get the idea...a kid’s imagination can run away with these things. I honestly thought he was indestructible…and in many ways his character and legacy are. Eventually I got older and obviously as the mind matures, you let go of these silly thoughts. Yet somehow he was always that superhero every weekend, helping me with my car obsession and constant work I would put into them. Whether it was tracing a short circuit, finding a coolant leak on my first turbocharged car, adjusting the valve lash on my S2000 with a custom tool he fabricated in 5 minutes, his abilities at times seem to know no boundaries. A random flashback…some friends and I were stranded out on the water in a boat that we had just recently “restored”. I had limited knowledge of inboard/outboard engines (especially a late 80’s carbureted MerCruiser) Somehow though, by phone, my Grandfather was able to guide me through the troubleshooting. He was able to visualize this carburetor from memory and guide me through the process. We got the engine started but by then had taken on too much water. Let’s just say getting towed home by a dingy with a 20hp engine is humbling…especially in front of a few members of the opposite sex.
The 1 st of this month marked the fourth anniversary of his death. He was diagnosed with lung cancer and within a year he succumbed to it. It is curious the thoughts that go through your mind in situations like this, and I think somehow that young kid was heartbroken deep down inside not only because of the loss, but because his superhero was gone. I guess growing old, weak, and run down happens to all of us eventually, but when you compress it into a year it’s a tough pill to swallow. My Grandmother tells me he was secretly very proud of the interest I took in his trade and understanding him and what made him tick. In reality I was the only member of my family to take a liking to working with my hands in general. These days with my own family and work it is very hard to take the time and enjoy a project that involves me working with my hands. Sometimes I’ll pay to have certain things done because my time with the family and work is more important. Then, adding to that equation, car manufacturers are more and more including maintenance plus a 2-3 year trade in cycle…really what is there to work on? I can’t tell you how much I look forward to purchasing a car to restore though and I can only hope one of my children takes an interest and wants to learn that skill which was handed down to me. Either way I know he’ll be with me in spirit while I work on that project.
I honestly have no idea what I will do with all my tools…I do have plans to rent a U-Haul some time next year and bring over the toolboxes, jacks, 80-gallon air compressor, and anything else I can fit. I get sad every time I think of those tools rotting away and in reality, they may not get anymore use at my house. In the end though, tools will break and some will rot away. I think my Grandfather would want me to not focus on the physical tools but remember the time we spent together and everything he taught me. I think he would want me to keep that family tradition alive in his honor.
Yeah, I think that’s the right thing to do.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 10:35 |
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I need to clean the dust out of this office.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 10:36 |
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Yeah my wife thought I had major allergies last night lol
![]() 10/14/2013 at 10:36 |
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Yeah my wife thought I had major allergies last night lol...
![]() 10/14/2013 at 10:38 |
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you need it to make money...
... cost too much money
![]() 10/14/2013 at 10:53 |
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Your gramps had an ability that was indestructible. The ability to assess the problem and visualize what kind of tool would get you through it, look at whats available to you, fabricate it, then put it into use to solve the original problem is something that is disappearing from this world. If he were still here there is probably nothing he could not tackle because of that mindset. Someone of this generation would probably find that he or she is missing that special dealer tool that is NLA and give up right there.
I feel the same way about my dad. He is a conventional machinist and can do things on a Bridgeport that many of his co workers cant touch even with CNCs. He has the same mindset and fabricates tools to get through whatever task is thrown at him. Although I am not a machinist I believe he has instilled in me a small portion of that ability and it usually is enough to take me very far no matter what I am wrenching on. Im trying to set up a small machine shop at home so I can learn as much from him as possible before he departs this earth.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 10:55 |
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If you have a garage, it is now time to prepare the garage to become an amazing awesome garage. It is worth it to spend a little bit of money and be wholly organized with a place for everything.
Tools to me are artists implements. Paint brushes, palettes, canvasses, etc. You create art with tools. Be it paintings, or sculpted finely worked pieces of metal that, let's face it, make grown men weak and lust after mechanical bits. A powerful engine that sounds so unique and performs so well we will leave our wives for it? Only tools being used by artists can make that happen. If you have millions of tool pieces in the garage, you can use them to become an artist.
Now, go build something.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:04 |
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It represents something I hardly ever use. I'd sooner draw up and design a tool (or tooling as it were) than ever actually use one.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:04 |
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Unfortunately I do not have a garage right now. I'm limited to a shed and not the best of driveways to work on my cars. However I'm not going to let that stop me and I will be setting this home up to let me work on my cars.
Since this is a starter home for my family and I, hopefully the next step up will have that dream garage...
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:12 |
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Personally I feel that the quality of a tool is what makes for a good or bad experience. I work on a lot of vintage electronics as well as small engines. I used to use a lot of no-name, cheap tools from big box stores. Then one day I bought a tool box full of stuff at a yard sale that had some Klein and Snap On brand pliars, wire strippers, wrenches, and so on. Those are a pleasure to use and the jobs I work with them on are so much more enjoyable. They simply do the job better.
As far as Grandfathers, well my Grandfather was very meticulous about his tools. He kept all of his paint brushes in a can of diesel fuel. Some were well over 40-50 years old and still pliable and in good shape. He oiled his tools, kept them organized, and made sure all chisels and blades were sharp, and you used the correct tool for the right job. I learned a lot from him and think a lot about what he might say whenever I am doing something, like rebuilding an amp or a lawnmower engine. Would he approve? Probably not, but hey- I have a few paint brushes that are pushing 10 years old, so I learned something...
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:15 |
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Why is someone cutting onions in the office at 10:15 on a Monday morning? Geez. Have some consideration!
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:17 |
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I LOVE the photo with the CZ tee shirt. My first real dirt bike a 1973 CZ was a lesson in mechanics, the second one a Penton KTM taught me even more. None of my nephews took interest in mechanics, even after I had them hired on at my buddies auto machine shop that does exotic builds, you start in the hot tank teardown area, do some bead blasting, then motor disassembly. The lack of interest in machines by American youth will help aid in the overthrow of one of the greatest countries and societies to have ever been created. Now get back to trying to attain that next level on GTA where you can kill hookers for profit!
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:18 |
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Smart move. Better that way then being house poor. You will find the 3 things always in the way. time/space/money. pick two for your projects. good luck. You will figure it out especially if your family understands and is involved.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:23 |
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A tool can represent a lot of things to a person...I've inherited a swiss army knife from my grandfather five years ago - not one of the smaller ones with two blades and a corkscrew, but one of the biggest ones with like more than 20 functions. He got it in the early nineties as a giveaway.
First of all it is a memento of my grandfather, who was a person with a tremendous mechanical knowledge and always seemed to be reparing things on the kitchen table...this memory is especially vibrant (especially as there are not many family pictures).
Secondly it represents quality - it has pretty much been used daily since the early nineties and still works fine, besides the spring of the scissors, which broke a couple of years ago. Thus it represents quality and robustness.
The defective spring represents another quality, which has become rare in the last years: proper customer service: I've wrote to Victorinox to inquire about the price of a replacement spring and they've not only replaced it for free, but also gave the knife a proper service without destroying its patina.
Last of all it stands for preparedness - I don't think I have to explain why.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:31 |
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I'm reaching this level. I managed to salvage about 2 dozen commercial wall panels from an old retail store along with the metal hooks that attached to it. I spent a few weekend repainting them, planning, and mounting them around my garage. I was able to create a space for all my tools and then some.
With my tools off the ground I bought a nice DeWalt miter saw and skil saw and built me a pair of sawhorses and then a standing workbench. This led to me buying a nice toolbox and removable fence for my miter. I've since bought a router, jig saw, and pocket hole guide. I've built furniture for my house, organizer's for my wife's classroom and am currently building a new back-patio. Let's not forget all the money I've saved by fixing things myself!
Tools really are an artist's medium and there are so many mixes and matches. I pride myself on my garage and my tools hanging in their appropriated places on the wall.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:35 |
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My grandfather also passed from lung cancer. He owned so many tools that he had to build another shed on his property to fit them all. He was a can-do man with a fix-it attitude. The first tool box I bought with my own money was an old, American-made Kennedy. Every time I open it up I can't help but think of him.
My father learned a honest day's work from him and from my father I learned what to take pride in. I think I'll pass on these values to my kids as well. To me, tools, simple or complicated, represent honest, hard work and in the end you'll find something to take pride in. At the end of your life, you'll pass em down to the most beautiful thing you've created - family.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:35 |
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Make room for his tools.
I have a similar story about my grandpa. He was a farmer for a long time and then was a field tech for the local JD dealer. I have a bunch of his tools (many are actual John Deere) and even a 110V arc welder that must weigh 50 pounds. My favorite tool is the JD flex head ratchet. Long handle and all the dedents are worn out, but it just feels right in my hand. Before I had fancy tools like breaker bars this my go to tool for breaking things loose (i know, but it always worked). Now that I have stuff that is replacable I don't often use it, but it still resides in my tool box. If I ever break it, it will then take its place in the house on display with the family pictures.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:43 |
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There are definitely some specific sets which I have with me at my home. With time I think I'll be able to make the room. It's a big undertaking...and sometimes it's tough to imagine them outside of his work shed which he built himself behind the house.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:53 |
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A tool represents power to me. Without them, you've lost the ability to do 99% of the mechanical tasks you know how to do (or could learn how to do). A tool represents tactile satisfaction to me when it's a good tool. I'm recalling the precision in the ratcheting mechanism on a Snap-On ratchet versus a shitty Wal-Mart-grade ratchet. A tool represents an era that seems to be slipping away quickly; The era where repairing your own equipment or building your own stuff was more commonplace.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 11:55 |
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And if you don't have a garage...
![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:04 |
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Couldn't have said it better myself.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:06 |
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I know it takes a while. I had a rachet set, a couple of screw drivers and a hammer to start with and then i had two car loads from my grandpa's shop. I spent 2 winters cleaning tools, organizing coffee cans of nuts and bolts, and trying to figure out what the heck his custom made tools were for. Totally worth it. It was kinda sad, but helps you connect with him as well. I would take a small piece of the shed so his tools don't get lonely. Glad you shared your story, thanks.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:16 |
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![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:21 |
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Word. I can relate to this.
I grew up in a family of fixers, makers, and tinkerers, but, unfortunately, they weren't very good teachers. I just watched a lot and looked at all of those fascinating tools. I went to college, got a job for a few years, but it never felt right. Then I discovered Product Design, so I quit my job, went back to school, got another degree, and got a new job as a designer. I get to work with all of these great engineers, machinests, tool and die makers, etc. I also discovered that I like making furniture so I also set up some shared workshop space with a couple of guys from a local architecture firm.
I know, tangent, right? Here's the thing:
My parents hadn't really understood why I had left my original job, or what it was I had studied. So I gave them a tour of my new workplace and the workshop, and suddenly it clicked. And the stories came pouring out: My grandfather had been a tool and die maker, and his brothers were cabinet makers, metal fabricators, and electrical engineers. My father grew up in Puerto Rico in the 40s and 50s, which was a lot like Cuba in that many things had to be homemade, so I knew he was good at throwing things together with very few resources. I did not know that when he moved to the US in the 60s he studied to be a cabinet maker as well.
ALL of this was news to me. I just thought they tinkered at home. Suddenly I was being told stories, shown pictures, and - better yet - given all kinds of old tools. My mom recently gave me my late Grandfather's old calipers. They came in a velvet lined box and they were still perfectly calibrated. VERY cool feeling.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:24 |
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I have a few of my grandfather's hand tools. Each have his initials JJR. He was a steam locomotive machinist. Never met the man he died the year before I was born.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:31 |
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in that country....i wonder if they just drain the oil into the sewer. convenient if that's the case!
![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:36 |
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My dad replaced the plug on his dad's Black and Decker drill the other day. Not that special? Except that my Grandpa was killed in a car accident in 1965, before I was born. The drill has a metal body and even a metal nameplate riveted to it. It is over 50 years old and we still use it regularly.
It's obviously special because I didn't know my Grandpa, so it's nice to have something of his that we can use together.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:36 |
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It seems that they just needed to fix something under the engine. So it was an "emergency" measure.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 12:48 |
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Wow. You were lucky to have such a man in your life.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:02 |
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One word: CAPITAL.
When most people think about capitalism, they thing about big banks. Tools are what capitalism is made of.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:06 |
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Too true, I have a few mechanic friends who are rendered useless if they feel they dont have the right tools.. It kills me because me, an accountant by trade, manages to figure out either a temporary fix or another form of approach that in the end produces the same result. All that learning they did in school and it all goes out the window due to a lack of ingenuity-creativity-imagination. And they have the nerve to look down on me...little do they know...
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:15 |
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'Scuse me, I seem to have gotten some dust in my eye.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:20 |
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Unfortunately there weren't any automotive tools for me to inherit from my dad; a fire about 8 years before his death destroyed everything (He even had an English wheel, I rember vividly being fascinated by that tool in particular) and killed his enthusiasm for cars for awhile. He was just starting to get back into it when he passed. But make no mistake, he was a hot rodder, as was his brother and most of my mom's side of the family.
I include the tools of his trade in the "hand-me down Tools" category. You see, he was a meat cutter. As was his father. One of my uncles owned a country ham store even. Anyways, when dad passed I was given his knife set. I took half of them and gave to my grandfather. A couple years later, my grandfather went into a nursing home. The family cleaned out his house to sell it; I took no part of this because I knew folks would be arguing over who got what - they fought bad enough that my uncle's windshield got smashed with a baseball bat!
About six months later, after the arguing had died down, I decided to stop and see my aunt and uncle. After chatting with my aunt for awhile, she said there was something she'd grabbed from grandpa's house for me. Said she had no idea why, but she felt like she absolutely had to make sure she saved this something for me. She goes in the kitchen and low and behold, she comes back with the half of dad's knife set I'd given grandpa. Now, this was literally the only thing I'd really wanted from the house and she saved them for me. I cried when I saw them. Call it fate, destiny, God, whatever, but I got these knives, these tools that my two biggest heroes had used to raise their families, back in my possession.
I'm no meat cutter. My dad and grandpa both threatened to kick my ass if I ever worked in a grocery store like them. They wanted me to use my brain, not my strength, to have a career doing something I loved. My love is cars, so I did mechanic work for awhile; then I decided to be a trucker, as a "desk job". Now I'm retired from that, though not by choice, and I may never work again. Those knives will be handed down to my kids, along with my tools for working on cars, but I already understand their desire for their family to not have to break their back to make money and that same sentiment I hope gets handed down with my tools too.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:23 |
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To the OP, my grandfather left us in 2011, also an immigrant, this very much moved me.
He wasn't a mechanic, but my earliest memories with him always involved some motor vehicle. The first was the 2 of us washing his delivery truck (he owned a few bodegas, and also supplied to many in the area) I have a picture of me at 5 on the top of his truck washing it. The second memory involved him running over my foot with its 89 camry station wagon(this may explain my love for wagons, currently drive a B5 S4 avant), it was my fault, I ran over to the car and he didn't see me. I cant remember if it hurt or not, but what I do remember was him crying as he carried me in side to tell my mother.
Another fond memory I have was the time he found me drawing all over the walls in his house, my mother said that he couldn't be prouder that I, his grandson, was taking an interest in art. When my mother and grandmother tried to paint over the walls he stopped them and suggested that instead they rearrange the furniture to hide my art. they lived in that house for 15 years and up until the day they sold it if you moved any of the furniture around you could see my "art"
If he knew you he fed you, and one of his habits was to cook as much as possible, and bring lunches to everyone he could remember that day. To this day complete strangers share with me how thankful they were for the food he provided them.
If I could melt down what it is he taught me it was to love people always, though I cant say I measure up to the man, those shoes are just far too big, but often I try them on for size, just to see if I'm growing in his likeness.
Again, thanks for sharing.
David.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:25 |
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Thank you for sharing! It was a very weird pride he took I'm sure with me and mechanics. He always pushed me to do more and use my mind instead of laboring as he had done. I'm sure he still felt a sense of pride because of my interest in what he did.
He definitely instilled that sense of creativity and problem solving though and I apply in my field every day.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:26 |
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Thank you for sharing your story!
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:27 |
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Very well put. And I think in his later years he would have very much agreed with that last statement about family being the most beautiful thing you can create.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 13:29 |
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That's a great story. It's amazing how sometimes the propensity to gravitate towards certain interests and what not skip generations.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 14:05 |
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In my case, it means some pretty awesome Heavy Metal
![]() 10/14/2013 at 14:34 |
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I too ended up with some of my grandfathers tools, but over time have broken most of them over time. If you wish to store them, wipe a thin coat of grease on them first.
As to what do tools mean to me?
The best answer is to explain how I use them, for I often hack a tool that wasn't exactly what I needed, it may be adding a longer power cord, removing a stupid safety device, etc. I learned from others in the trades that tools are meant to be used.
The best lesson was learning that those cheap imported socket sets are really handy for removing rust damage fasteners. When faced with the bolt or nut from hell, just pound a cheap socket on, remove it the fastener, and throw both away. I learned this from a shop owner who had a stack of cheap socket sets .
Some of what you inherited may be worth saving for it's antique value, and then you don't want to use it. Some it will be handy, but break after years of use, as my grandfathers half inch sockets mostly did. And some of it will never be useful as the need for it has disappeared with time.
I think the biggest lesson here is tools represent more than being able to service a tractor or car. They represent certain values, like being resourceful, and I have no doubt that you will pass this on to the next generation. —David
![]() 10/14/2013 at 16:42 |
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Where did this corrosion come from? Buried at sea?
![]() 10/14/2013 at 16:45 |
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The older, cheaper quality tools do not fair well in the South Florida humidity. The work shed is non air conditioned so humidity is a huge factor.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 17:33 |
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Awesome article! What a great tribute!
My father started as a tool maker for a Whirlpool years and years ago. He worked his way up the ladder and retired as a senior engineer. Even though he was never big into cars, he did pass along his curiosity/tinkering mind to me. I have two tool boxes in my garage from him, that go untouched. Some are tools he made while working in the tooling shop. He is still alive, but he gave them to me since he knows I love working with my hands, and tools. I hope to pass that along to my two young daughters as they grow in age.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 19:50 |
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Thanks for writing such a great piece. I feel the same way about tools and have a fascination for them. I like how they are made (forged, ground, machined..) and their heft. My family and friends sometimes laugh at me for refusing to use the wrong tool for a job. I have a lot of respect for good tools.
![]() 10/14/2013 at 22:31 |
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A tool represents a path to interaction with a machine. An interaction point where you are now with the machine and makin it your bitch!
![]() 10/15/2013 at 05:23 |
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I have multiple sets of all kinds of tools in all kinds of sizes (metric, whitworth, SAE etc) thanks to grandfathers on both sides. I will never get rid of them and look forward to my future son or daughter inheriting them along with some of the ones I've added to the collection also.
It's awesome you got to hear your grandfather's experiences and have those little reminders.