A Jeweler’s scale | Family Heirlooms
I never knew my maternal grandfather. He died in 1964, a few years before I came along. He immigrated to the US from Romania in 1923, eventually settling in Cincinnati, becoming a jeweler and watchmaker. With two locations in town, Ben’s Jewelers were community fixtures and my grandfather became a prominent local businessman.
Through pictures and stories and objects I certainly learned a lot about him. He was known as a quiet, gentle, thoughtful and yet powerful presence. A voracious reader and traveler, he worked tirelessly for the betterment of his family. I wish I knew the sound of his voice.
After my mother passed away last year, I was able to keep her father’s jeweler’s scale. For many years it occupied a place on the entry table in my parents’ home. As a woodworker, it carries special meaning, as it’s a finely crafted piece, probably out of mahogany. And they don’t make analog scales like this any longer.
Family Heirlooms | Create Your Legacy
As a family heirloom it’s an incredible connection to a person I didn’t know, yet who has had a looming influence in my life. To know that he used the scale regularly is truly special. There are scale tools in the drawer. There are even a bunch of matchbooks in the 1950’s colors that were familiar to us from the relics of the stores. Of course, back then, everyone smoked, so matches were quite the thing.
The scale now lives in the entry of our home, on a walnut console table that I designed and built. I see them both every day. When I step back to think about it, the sense of history and connection is incredibly grounding. They’re objects that have deep personal meaning.
Stories Give Furniture Meaning | Colorado Crafted
Our children obviously don’t have the same connection to their great-grandfather as I do. But they had a great connection with my mom, and know about the history of her father. Someday, hopefully a long way away, one of them will take both the scale and the console table for their own home. And continue the generational connections. It’s a comforting thought, one that shows the power of the stories behind mere objects.
