A LEGACY OF RESTORATION

My grandfather worked for a fine furniture company at one point in his life. I never knew what the job entailed and the only reference I have to it is a picture of him on an ink blotter.

I don’t know much about the Kiel Furniture Company, other than that it later became A.A. Laun (which is no longer in business). In the twenties (1920s, Millenials!), Kiel Manufacturing Company produced a piece of furniture called the “Golden Voiced Table” which was a table with a built in radio. The table sold for $99.50 (without the tubes). [Converted into current dollars, this would have been more than $1200 – still cheaper than our average phone.]

When my grandfather retired, he moved to Massachusetts and bought a farm. He had two large barns, which soon were filled with the furniture he bought at estate sales. He would refurbish the furniture and sell it. He mostly dealt in antiques, and I remember him being a master craftsman. I remember a T-square he made for my father. The blade was 1/8 inch thick and 2.5 inches wide, and consisted twenty strips of different woods, all perfectly cut and glued together. It was more than a T-square. It was a work of art.

My father inherited a bit of my grandfather’s talent. In his younger days, he built a lot of furniture for our home. I remember it as being sturdy and practical.

I tried my own hand at such craftsmanship. My only accomplishment was a bookcase I made out of discarded wood and stair rail that I salvaged from a renovation near where I lived. Like my father’s constructions, it was practical and sturdy.

Now my sisters are continuing the tradition started by my grandfather. They find odd pieces of furniture, left out on the curb, discarded  because they are broken, damaged, worn out, or unwanted. They bring the damaged goods home, and begin the process of bringing that furniture back to life, turning it into something beautiful, practical, and desirable.

My sisters never explored my grandfather’s barns. They never saw the stacks of tables, chairs, cabinets , dressers, side tables, all discarded and neglected, its former owners unable to see the beauty and value that still resided in what was no longer wanted. We live in a day of disposable consumption. We buy stuff, use it for a while, then buy the newer model or latest fad. It seems to me that we put too much emphasis on having “a lot,” rather than having things that matter. The one thing I’ve learned from my grandfather is that somethings do matter, and it would be foolish to lose sight of those things.

I find it reassuring that some family legacies don’t die but are carried on by the most unusual of people.