As I've mentioned elsewhere, I'm in the process of shipping from Everett, Washington to Brisbane, Australia a footlocker-sized crate of woodworking tools. Although he was much more of a power-tools than handtools type of guy, he still had a vast array of hand tools throught his basement workshop.
Probably two reasons for this. First, he started in an era where there really **were** no consumer power tools. For example, he, his dad, and his father-in-law (a Finishing Carpenter: niiiiice!) built his house all by hand, using (I believe) all hand tools. And a well-constructed house it is.
And second, he comes from a lumber mill background, so he has a number of traditional lumberjack tools around the place. Pretty sure he had a two-person crosscut saw around the place, but I didn't see it when I was there. He also had a pickeroon (pole with a spur, used for pulling logs towards you), a Peavey (used for rolling logs), and a Swede hook (like mondo ice tongs, used for picking up the end of a log and dragging it via two large guys). I was a little dissapointed that my Guitar Cousin got the Peavey and Swede hook, since out of all the family, I felt that I was the only one that would use them. But it turns out that my grandpa had already, specifically, given them to him a few months ago -- and that my cousin has already used them several times to shift logs (he lives on five acres, with evergreens all around the rim; the evergreens occassionally fall down during windstorms, and he hires a portable sawmill to convert them to lumber). So, fair enough: I'd use 'em maybe once a year; and the trees I get are half to two-thirds the diameter of his (so, what -- one-fourth the cross-sectional mass? something like that).
PEAVEY
SWEDE HOOK
However, the main reason I can't rightfully complain is that my dad, aunt, uncles, and cousins have their workshops essentially set up. My brother and I, on the other hands, not yet being home-owners, and still being quasi-students, have only the bare bones of a workshop. Thus, a goodly portion of my grandpa's tools were left for me to choose through.
I don't know if it's a Depression-era thing or not, but if my Grandpa saw a tool for a good price at a garage sale, he'd pick it up, even if he didn't really need it. Luckily, he'd only buy good quality. Still, this tendency meant that he ended up with **seven** power drills (no cordless, all corded); seven glass cutters; and about fifteen ''church key'' bottle cap openers and a similar number of the old style ''pop a triangular hole in your can of motor oil'' devices (can't think of the name). Plus a zillion flatblade screwdrivers of various sizes (oddly, very few Phillips heads), many pliers, etc. But at least he was very organized, so all of his duplicates were in the same drawer, the same shelf, or the same loop of cord hanging on a nail.
The really nice handsaws had already gone to my uncle, or else my grandpa didn't have any. But I got two or three ''older'' handsaws, plus basically all the misc. handsaws (took two coping saws, but left one behind; two hacksaws; a GIT-sized wood-handled handsaw). A double-bitted felling axe. Four splitting wedges. A ''light'' (relatively speaking!) and a heavy splitting mallet; likewise, a light and heavy sledgehammer. (Left the medium-sized ones there, figuring I'd grabbed the range.) His hammer drawer had roughly twelve hammers, of which maybe size were claw hammers. Took one or two claws that he'd etched his initials into the heads, reasoning that the others may or may not have been garage sale finds that he never truly used; also took a cross-peen hammer, a smaller ball-peen, and two(?) that looked like some sort of geologist's pick.
Most of his woodworking was lathe-based, and thus he had nine or ten mallets and bludgeons(?) of various styles scattered around the workshop, all of which he'd made. (And this ''nine or ten'' was after his kids had [potentially] chosen a few for themselves.) Most of us grandkids (me, my brother, my sister, two cousins) took one or two; and I took another few of the remainders. Thus, I now have I cylindrical one for my froe, as well as a brick-headed and a cylindrical-headed one (or two?) for driving chisels.
A few unusual pliers. A few handfuls of U-bolts, hinges, and knobs. (I was strong, and didn't take any of the jars upon jars of screws, bolts, washers, and nails. Well, except for the jar of decking screws -- which I ended up using up on the crates, anyhow.) Some pulleys. Some short lengths of rope that he'd done the eye-splicing and backsplicing on. (I know how to slice rope, but apparently most folks my age don't.)
Three sawsets, strung together on a cord. (I impressed my aunt [who does powertool woodworking] by knowing what the heck they were.) Also two sawblade clamps (i.e. for holding while sharpening), including one that looks large enough to possibly be for a two-man crosscut saw. Also a wooden saw-setting jig that my grandpa had made (wooden diamond; four nails) that as soon as I saw it I remembered him showing to me when I was a kid (at the time, I hadn't appreciated it, being pre-Galoot), over which I impressed additional family members at being able to identify it.
Two wooden bench dogs, which (presumably) my grandpa made. Not sure where the iron holdfast went to: will have to ask my uncle.
Also found, near the stairs, a plastic grocery bag with three sets of headphones -- all **coated** with sawdust (clearly, rarely used; he just removed his hearing aid). I took the nicer of the three: metal pivots, and the ''length'' setting can be locked in place with a wing nut.
And etcetera.
My grandpa had a big lathe (which converts into a table saw; my dad now has this) and a small, benchtop lathe (I think my aunt has it), located in two different sections of his shop. Thus, at each ''lathe-ing station'' he had two sets of lathe tools -- clearly, all ''users''. My uncle took them all home, to try to match them up. At the moment, he's the only one in the family that does lathe work.
I asked for a set, since -- once the house is built, and I have more room -- I'll be buying a benchtop lathe. He said let him know, and he'll give me one of the sets.
I didn't take any power tools, since Yanks and Aussies use different voltages. But my brother took my grandpa's high-quality jointer (everyone else that would use a power jointer already has one). He took it home to his two-bedroom, university Family Housing apartment, where he's shoved it in the bedroom closet (as far as I know), to be used someday when he actually has a house.
I took many, many photos of the interior and exterior of the house. I especially took a lot of photos of his workshop area: trying to document his working style. I particularly appreciate how throughout his basement, as well as the house there's shelves, handholds, and holders, right where you need them to be: wooden, self-made. For example, back by access door on the back of the furnace is a wooden ''loop'', screwed to the wall, with a flatblade screwdriver hanging in it. Clearly, that's the screwdriver used when changing the furnace filter.
A customized workshop, with everything where I need it: That's what I'd like, one day
--GG
I enjoyed nosing about my grandpa's basement workshop. One of the things that caught my attention was a roll of toilet paper, hanging from the ceiling above his woodturning lathe.
