wingski
Senior Member
You guys just made me remember something. When I was very young, my Dad’s best friend was an old fellow he called “Bolt”. Bolt had been the very first model T dealer in Oregon. Now that I think about it, I’ll bet he met Henry Ford. If only I had been a little older, I could have asked Bolt about his life and experiences.
I think I remember hearing them say that that first dealership was in Salem, Oregon which makes sense because it is the state capital. I’ve tried to figure out how old Bolt was when I last saw him, and I think he was close to 80. That means he was born in the 1860’s or early 70’s. My god, what stories he could tell. I’m so sorry that I was too young to comprehend a lot of what Bolt and Dad talked about.
One time, the three of us went for a walk because Bolt wanted to show Dad where the old still of his was. Dad had to carry me a lot because I was so little, so I remember seeing things from a great height because I was on his shoulders as we walked down a deserted railroad track. I remember seeing and asking about an old treadle railroad cart sitting on a piece of side track. Dad put me down on the wood floor of the cart and him and Bolt pushed and pulled the thing out onto the main track. Then, they both got on and started moving the lever up and down to get the thing moving. I don’t know how far we went in that thing, but it was one of the most exciting things that had happened in my life so far. Watching and listening to the sound of the two men pushing down and lifting up the handles on that big wooden lever while a big curved piece of metal with teeth engaged and released a round gear that had a rod attached to it and made the whole thing move was amazing to me. I had laid on the floor and watched my Granmother’s foot as she rocked it back and forth on her treadle sewing machine, but the leather belt connecting the treadle to the actual sewing machine disappeared up under the machine, and I couldn’t see what it did. Watching that railroad hand cart do it’s job was the first time I was able to see how machinery worked, and I was able to understand why and how it was moving. That was the day that I fell in love with mechanical things. I can’t even come close to explaining what an important event that was in my life. It was the beginning of my love for all things mechanical, and I feel so fortunate that you guys have brought back another memory that is priceless.
But hold on, that’s not the end of this story. After awhile, Bolt told Dad that we were there. I can’t remember if there was a brake on that thing, but we stopped and walked a little way into the forest. There among the trees was an old wooden shack with one side open and I could see an enormous metal tank with all kinds of curly copper tubing coming out of the top and down onto the ground. That might have been the first time I saw copper, and I loved that wonderful color. It was a little green where it touched the ground but for the most part it still was bright. Dad and Bolt tried to explain how the thing worked by showing me where the fire had been built under the tank, and I could still see all the charcoal on the ground. However, the distillation process was still way beyound my understanding, and I couldn’t understand what the whole apparatus was for.
I remember how upset my Mom was when I started babbling about Bolt’s still when we got back. She didn’t think it was proper for my Dad to have allowed me to see something like that. The whole thing confused me for years until I was able to understand what I had seen and how Mom felt about bootleg booze.
I hope you guys don’t mind me telling these stories, but I feel so fortunate that I have these memories and know they’re going to die with me unless I share them. One of these times, I’ll tell you about the first time I was accused of lying because I told Mom and Dad about seeing the gigantic flying wing that was so high you couldn’t hear the propellers.
Mike
I think I remember hearing them say that that first dealership was in Salem, Oregon which makes sense because it is the state capital. I’ve tried to figure out how old Bolt was when I last saw him, and I think he was close to 80. That means he was born in the 1860’s or early 70’s. My god, what stories he could tell. I’m so sorry that I was too young to comprehend a lot of what Bolt and Dad talked about.
One time, the three of us went for a walk because Bolt wanted to show Dad where the old still of his was. Dad had to carry me a lot because I was so little, so I remember seeing things from a great height because I was on his shoulders as we walked down a deserted railroad track. I remember seeing and asking about an old treadle railroad cart sitting on a piece of side track. Dad put me down on the wood floor of the cart and him and Bolt pushed and pulled the thing out onto the main track. Then, they both got on and started moving the lever up and down to get the thing moving. I don’t know how far we went in that thing, but it was one of the most exciting things that had happened in my life so far. Watching and listening to the sound of the two men pushing down and lifting up the handles on that big wooden lever while a big curved piece of metal with teeth engaged and released a round gear that had a rod attached to it and made the whole thing move was amazing to me. I had laid on the floor and watched my Granmother’s foot as she rocked it back and forth on her treadle sewing machine, but the leather belt connecting the treadle to the actual sewing machine disappeared up under the machine, and I couldn’t see what it did. Watching that railroad hand cart do it’s job was the first time I was able to see how machinery worked, and I was able to understand why and how it was moving. That was the day that I fell in love with mechanical things. I can’t even come close to explaining what an important event that was in my life. It was the beginning of my love for all things mechanical, and I feel so fortunate that you guys have brought back another memory that is priceless.
But hold on, that’s not the end of this story. After awhile, Bolt told Dad that we were there. I can’t remember if there was a brake on that thing, but we stopped and walked a little way into the forest. There among the trees was an old wooden shack with one side open and I could see an enormous metal tank with all kinds of curly copper tubing coming out of the top and down onto the ground. That might have been the first time I saw copper, and I loved that wonderful color. It was a little green where it touched the ground but for the most part it still was bright. Dad and Bolt tried to explain how the thing worked by showing me where the fire had been built under the tank, and I could still see all the charcoal on the ground. However, the distillation process was still way beyound my understanding, and I couldn’t understand what the whole apparatus was for.
I remember how upset my Mom was when I started babbling about Bolt’s still when we got back. She didn’t think it was proper for my Dad to have allowed me to see something like that. The whole thing confused me for years until I was able to understand what I had seen and how Mom felt about bootleg booze.
I hope you guys don’t mind me telling these stories, but I feel so fortunate that I have these memories and know they’re going to die with me unless I share them. One of these times, I’ll tell you about the first time I was accused of lying because I told Mom and Dad about seeing the gigantic flying wing that was so high you couldn’t hear the propellers.
Mike
