|Forum topic by DocBailey||posted 05-21-2014 03:38 PM||1044 views||0 times favorited||9 replies|
05-21-2014 03:38 PM
I’m in the habit of photographing old tools which have followed me home. I recently came across a few from last fall, and thought I’d share the story behind them.
I drove to a local garage sale. I’m really an estate sale guy; I hardly ever hit the garage sales, as they seem to have everything but tools, but the pickings were slim that day.
Summer was a distant memory and you could smell fall in the air. An elderly woman sat at a folding card table just outside the garage.
I strolled into the long, narrow garage and started to poke around. Nothing here for me, I thought. Then I spied the tip of a plane handle poking out from a basket under an old kitchen table. I dragged it out and fished out a Stanley #4, then a #5.
Back home, later that night, I picked them up to have a closer look. That’s when I saw that someone had stamped three letters on the top of each iron—“JAB”—the owner’s initials, most likely.
That’s when the old woman’s words came back to me—“I’m sure we sure we have something with your name on it.”