I have written several times about my grandfather’s clock. I have had it in my home since 2015, after my father died. I’ve lived in three places in the last ten years, and I’ve brought the clock with me to each new home.
Unfortunately, the clock didn’t fare well during our move from Kansas City to Seattle. That might have been my fault—I took out the weights and the pendulum to prepare it to be shipped, and I had some difficulty doing so. I should have researched the technique before I began. I had a terrible time taking the weights off their hooks, and I probably could have left the pendulum in place, but taped it down so it didn’t move.
In any event, I didn’t feel comfortable reassembling the clock when we arrived in Seattle last fall. I put it on a table in the front hall, and I started inquiring about clock repair shops in the area. I wanted someone who did house calls, because I don’t like transporting the clock in my car. It’s one thing to do it when the weights aren’t in, but when it is assembled, it weighs 40 pounds, is too large and awkwardly shaped for me to carry comfortably, and clangs and bangs with every bump in the road.
- First, I got a recommendation for an antique clock repairman from a neighbor. When I got around to calling him in January, I learned the individual was in his 80s and ill. He wasn’t doing house calls, and it didn’t sound like he was doing much work at all.
- I tried the place that man’s wife recommended, but they didn’t make house calls.
- I stopped in a clock and jewelry shop not too far from our apartment, but it seemed more like a pawn shop than a legitimate repair shop. The proprietor smelled of cigarette smoke. I told him I’d call him, but I never did.
- Finally, I found a guy who said he did house calls and said he’d been in the business of clock repair for 30+ years. I decided to give him a chance. But scheduling the service call was a nightmare—he didn’t return my email until I called him again a few weeks later.
In May, we finally arranged for this guy (he’s Russian, so I’ll call him Dmitri) to come look at the clock. He couldn’t put it back together on site—he said a piece of the pendulum was broken (did I do it?), and he would need to order it. So I let him take the clock.
Dmitri said it would be about three weeks to repair it. But then he found another broken part, and had to order it. Dmitri finally had the clock ready in mid-July, and he brought it back to our apartment last week. I paid him a hefty sum for the repairs, but he gave me a two-year warranty.
Since Dmitri returned the clock, it has stopped a few times and it has been losing a few minutes a day. I’ve been trying to adjust the pendulum so it keeps proper time. I’m going to give it a week or two to see if I can adjust it. If it continues to have problems, I’ll be exercising my warranty.
Because I don’t want my grandfather’s clock to stop on my watch. It’s been in the family 150 years as of this year. I’ve probably spent more money in the last ten years to keep it ticking than it’s worth. But I have vowed to keep it running.
According to the song “My Grandfather’s Clock,”
. . . it stopped short — never to go again —
When the old man died.
Does that apply to old women dying, too? I hope not!
What heirlooms are you committed to passing on to the next generation?
