Long before a podcast, there was a broken clock at my house in need of a repairman. I remember being told that Mrs. Mary Grace’s son, John Brooks, worked on them. I remember mentioning it to him when we finally met around 20 years ago.
I can’t remember where I even got it from or more importantly where it went. Your memory is a peculiar thing.
What I remember is the broken glass on the face and the broken fence. John fixed it and our friendship began. I cannot remember if he even charged me, for some reason I am thinking $40. I bought one on E-bay this week to try and ease my obsessive efforts to locate it.
The fence on mine could not be mended. Go figure. He also cautioned me not to plug it in or I would probably burn my house down. His advice was in a long rant about 1940’s wiring.
I didn’t listen as usual, because I love to watch her swing. There’s a running joke around here, that I am not allowed to have matches. Only John knows about the wiring.
Don’t laugh,
Cheryl
