If Furniture Could Talk

Ponderings by John Abild

Sometimes it's fun to think about what a piece of furniture has experienced before it ended up in your possession. Maybe you just recently bought an antique or you found one in a relative's barn, or it may have been willed to you. Occasionally you will know who owned a piece and where it spent its years until now. But often you don't. That's where your imagination can freely wander.
Just for an example let us consider this old chest that you inherited. Why the awful paint job? Why won't it sit straight? Why won't the drawers move? Why that glob of pasty looking filler putty on the side? Who made holes in the drawer bottoms?

If it could only talk!

May 1904 Charles bought this lovely oak chest of drawers from the Montgomery Ward catalog. He and Mabel would be married next month, and this would hold all of their clothes. The cost of $10.35 was a lot for Charles, but he'd been saving for this occasion for a long time so he had the money on hand.

December 1911 This was a close call. Little Edgar, who was five, found a book of matches and tried to light the kerosene lamp on the chest, which he was forbidden to do. He ignited the scarf, and only the screams of his twin sister Edith brought Mother to the rescue in time. Alas, an ugly burn the size of a saucer at the back right. A new scarf would hide it, but Edgar couldn't hide from his dad's belt.

August 1918 Charles was called into service in the great war. Sent to Europe he never returned. Mabel and the six children moved back to her home state of Connecticut. She had to sell all of her furniture, and packed all of their other belongings in four steamer trunks for the long train ride. She never forgot the lovely chest her fallen soldier had bought for her.

September 1921 Bertha and Tom had been looking for a good used chest when they discovered this one in a used furniture store. It looked so good with that colorful Tiffany lamp on a doily positioned toward the back on the right side, so they said they'd take it. Only when they moved the lamp did they find the burn. They wouldn't pay the asking price with that burn, so the proprietor reduced it and gave them a good deal on the lamp too, which they bought. Tom kept his belongings in this chest for nearly thirty years until he retired and gave it to his son Earl. But before that. . .

August 1937 Indoor plumbing was becoming popular along with flush toilets. The plumber tried to be careful as he carried a long section of lead pipe, but as he rounded a corner in the bedroom he put a nasty gouge in the side of the beloved chest. He had to pay for the damage and wasn't called back. But what to do with the gouge? Tom forced some putty into the hole with his thumb, then painted over it the best he could to make it match the wood. Not the best job, but the chest was showing other signs of age too.

June 1951 Earl married Sue just about the time his dad retired. He let them have his old chest until they could afford good furniture. It was free so they were thankful to have it, in spite of all the scratches and dents.

June 1952 Jimmy was born. Sue painted the chest white and it went in the baby's room. When Sue got her big inheritance, the chest was stuck out in the garage where it became a convenient receptacle for tools, paint cans and motor oil. There was always dampness on the floor in that corner causing one of the rear feet to rot partly away.

May 1969 Jimmy was getting tall and his hair was getting long. Everyone was doing it. He thought it would be cool to set up a little psychedelic room in the basement so he and his friends could hang out and listen to music. They took the old chest, painted zebra stripes on one side, leopard spots on the other, and US flag colors and stars on the front. It looked far out with Jim's black light turned on.

April 1975 Jim's fiancée Beth wanted to get their apartment ready to live in, and the old chest would be perfect. That is, except for the old fashioned hippie paint job. But she could fix that. She antiqued it in a neat olive green with a brownish glaze coat. It looked good, and the lava lamp looked good on it—placed toward the back on the right.

December 1983 It was a cold day when Jim and Beth moved to the farm and their new house. They couldn't see putting that tacky old chest in with their more modern furniture, so they stuck it out in the barn with some other old stuff. The many coats of paint were good protection from the constant dampness, but the drawer bottoms bowed so badly two of them wouldn't budge. Nobody loved the old chest any more except the mice—for the next twenty-five years.

March 2008 Your Uncle Jim and Aunt Beth thought it was time to unload some of the junk they had in storage in the barn. You said you would take the old green chest, thinking you might try to make it look good. . . somehow. . . and you probably can!

No, furniture can't talk, but if it could what a story it could tell! Of rides in the back of a horse drawn wagon, of years of hot meals and laughter, of being bought and sold and bought, of whispered secrets, of neglect and abuse. With some careful restoring, maybe you can give new life to a worn out and unattractive piece. So even if it can't talk, it can cause others to talk—to talk in admiration.

"Where did you get that beautiful old oak chest of drawers . . . and that beautiful Tiffany lamp. . . at the back on the right?"



©1998 John Abild