My New Old Clock

My New Old Clock

American Action Fund for Blind Children and Adults
Future Reflections Special Issue: Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) CAREERS AND PASSIONS
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My New Old Clock
by Frederick W. Noesner
From the Editor: Frederick W. Noesner has been totally blind since early childhood. His interests include collecting and studying antique weapons, clocks, and tools and building furniture in his workshop. His novel, The Fortunate Ones, is available in print from Amazon and through the Talking Book program of the National Library Service for the Blind and Physically Handicapped (NLS). He lives in Delaware with "two wonderful ladies": his wife, Margarete, and his Seeing Eye dog, Juniper.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock. I felt as if my new old wooden clock had just come back to life. As I stood listening to it, I placed my hands on either side of its mahogany-veneered case and tried to absorb its history.
My clock was made in Connecticut by Williams, Orton, and Prestons circa 1835. I could picture it standing on the mantle in an old farmhouse until one day, after years of service, a weight cord broke. This mishap may have relegated the clock to a barn or attic, probably for decades. Small pieces such as the key, pendulum bob, and weights might have been set aside on a separate shelf, sadly never to be reunited. As time passed, dirt and grime clung to the outside of the case and filtered inside through the openings on top where the broken wooden pulleys once had been. The broken pulleys may have contributed to the breaking of the weight cords.
This was the condition the clock was in when I was lucky enough to find it for sale at a clock collectors' meeting a few months ago. I had always wanted a wooden clock, and I knew I would give this one a good home.
Uncertain of the best way to treat the clock's old wooden movement, I requested and received some very helpful advice from Greg Perry, a noted restoration authority. He explained that I should treat the entire movement in a heated bath of linseed oil and beeswax. As the kitchen filled with the aroma of this heated mixture, I felt as though I could smell history.
Of course I had taken the movement totally apart for its bath. After everything cooled, the reassembly began. Okay, it took me a week, but it was fun. Every evening after dinner I tried to figure out where each gear belonged. Some were obvious, such as the winding drums and the cannon gear for the hands. A lot of the strike side could fit in only one place. In fact, even though there were a number of parts, most could work only in their correct places. The most difficult part was to fit the lifter wires that are so necessary in the strike train.
After all the parts were in the correct places, I still was not all the way home. The front plate had to drop down into place. This would be possible only when the shafts that held the gears were all lined up at the same moment.
Next the case needed some light cleaning and a few coats of Danish oil. When the case was ready to receive the movement, it was time for me to tackle the installation of new weight cords. This was a challenge, as the holes drilled through the winding drums were very small. The cord was too flexible to be pushed through and too thick to be knotted to anything. After several hours of trying, I came up with a method that worked for me. I used a dental floss threader. The threader is very thin and has a flexible loop at one end. Using a closed loop of floss with the weight cord laid over it, I gently tugged the cords through. Then I only had to bend new wire S hooks for the weights to hang from.
When the clock started ticking it was music to my ears. I listened for a while to make sure it really was level, ticking smoothly and evenly.
I have been totally blind since early childhood, having been born with malignant tumors of the retinas. I had wonderful parents who encouraged me to learn and try anything that interested me. Dad's machine shop gave me an excellent opportunity to learn about and use many kinds of tools.
I got my first exposure to antique clocks when Dad restored a Chauncy Jerome OG case with a thirty-hour brass movement. The mechanics of this clock were interesting, but what really fascinated me was its history. Some fifty years later it is still ticking away here in my library.
A few years ago I had the opportunity to work seasonally as a colonial person for Historic Philadelphia. This experience led me to ponder what life might have been like for a blind person during the eighteenth century. Eventually I wrote a historical novel entitled The Fortunate Ones, 18th Century Philadelphia as Seen without Sight. In the novel I explored several trades in which blind or low-vision people might have taken part. Among the characters are a powder horn maker, a gun stock maker, a potter, and a sailmaker. I am currently at work on a second book, this one set here in northern Delaware. This novel will feature a blind clockmaker and lots of blind spinners and weavers.
In the final step for this old clock, I will make a shelf from mahogany and mount it on the wall. I already have my next clock project lined up. I will be restoring a tall case wooden works clock. I am eager to hear it ticking, and I am certain that I will.

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