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Jett Superior laid this on you on || March 19, 2005 || 1:13 pm

A Saturday Story

by skillzy

I had originally planned to write something here about Internet friendships and relationships, but never really came up with anything cohesive after kicking it around all week. Then, this morning, as I was searching for a hammer to fix some damage the little fartknockers next door had done, I remembered a story, and thought I’d share it with y’all.

This happened sometime while I was in high school. We were making a float at school for some kinda parade, homecoming I guess, and I needed a hammer. So I went into my Dad’s little workshop and picked out a hammer. There were two there – an old wooden one and one with a fiberglass handle. Since the fiberglass one looked a little newer and nicer, I took the wooden one. Spent the afternoon banging on the stupid float, and got ready to head home. Couldn’t find the hammer. Looked all over the place, under, over, around, no hammer. Asked around, no hammer. I finally gave up and headed home.

I don’t remember how the news of the disappearance got passed on to my family, but I do remember my Mom talking to me. Daddy was either so pissed or so upset that he didn’t talk to me for a while after I lost that hammer. Because that wasn’t just any old beat-up hammer, it had belonged to Pop. And now it was gone.

Remember in Ava’s Man when Charlie dies, and all he has to leave to his family is his toolbelt and roofing tools? Well my grandparents, Big Mama and Pop, weren’t a whole lot different than Charlie and Ava Bundrum. They were a little better off, because Big Mama had steady work at the mill, and Pop worked as a carpenter. See, that hammer wasn’t something that sat in a shed, occasionally coming out to build a birdhouse, or hang a picture. That hammer helped to feed and clothe a family that was coming out of the Depression. That hammer was worth way too much to be so easily lost by a stupid kid.

So if, someday, God comes to see me and says, “You know what? I’m feeling magnanimous today. How’d you like a couple of do-overs?”, I’d settle for just one.

3 worked it out »

  1. Nina 3.20.2005

    It is sad when something like that happens. I come from a dirt poor family. Most of the heirlooms that I do have mostly have to do with some sort of work (kitchen, sewing, farming). That’s why no matter how inconsequential the item may seem (hammer, bowl, sewing thimble) I make sure to impress upon my children and anyone else who may be laying their hands on the things that have been handed down through my family exactly where the item came from and why it is important. No matter how ordinary and every day it is, it is still a piece of family history. Had you known that the hammer was your Pop’s, the shiny new one would be the one laying lost somewhere.

  2. Schotzie 3.21.2005

    The exact same thing happened to me except I was the stoopid kid who lost my Dad’s “been in the family since grandpa worked on the railroad” hammer. I wrecked cars, lost money, got in trouble and did all the things (and more) that kids do, but losing that hammer was the only time I saw my Dad get tears in his eyes over something stoopid I’d done. I’m like you….I’d give anything for a mulligan on that one!

  3. becky 3.25.2005

    happened to me with a quilt that my mom had made out of some things that meant something to her. i forgot it at camp. i still cringe when i think about it.


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