05/25/2022
"A Memory Dedicated To Our Dad" by Kay Timm.
One day last summer, I accompanied my husband to an Indianapolis lumber yard to pick up custom milled boards he had ordered. It was a balmy, slightly windy morning and I was sitting in the car waiting for the material to be loaded. I couldn't help but notice the pleasant aroma of freshly sawed wood and the perfect order of the warehouse with all the same shapes and sizes stacked neatly together. My mind wandered and I thought, "Why is this sight and smell so pleasant to me?" Is it because it is something brand new, with the potential or promise of something beautiful to be made from the wood? Or, is it a reminder of a walk in the woods on a balmy summer day when a tree has just been felled?
Or, as I sat musing further, is it something deeper yet- a childhood memory perhaps that this aroma provokes. Of course! Immediately, I am transported back in time to my father's carpenter shop. The windows and doors were always open on a day such as this and the sawdust floated in the air. Even as a child of five or six, I appreciated the perfect order of the place. There was a special rack or container for every tool and supply and the projects were always in order of priority. I was a very curious child and I found the chisels, vices, and other tools so strange from anything I saw in our kitchen or the sewing box at home. I, of course, had to know what was going on at the time, what the item was, the reason for the repair, why a particular tool was used.
Today, almost sixty years later, I can see my father sitting on a stool in the shop with a cigar between his lips, looking more than a little amused at my questions and so proud that his workers are so patient with his little girl. It was a place where I felt "special" and loved. No wonder sixty years later, I like the smell of sawdust!
Pictured below:
Olin "Wh**ey" White- Greenhouse photo, 1959
Fire Crew photo, 1955