My trip to my favorite place usually means my car comes back with more than it arrived. A few presents for a great-grandchild and odds and ends my grandparents no longer need, but don’t want to throw away. Occasionally it’s something really special. This trip was one of those times (along with the box of “new” cars for Henry and a turkey roaster).
These are the toolboxes my great-grandfather Albert made. He worked in a cigar making factory and every week the tobacco would be shipped in big crates that would be emptied and torn apart. At the end of the week the wood from the boxes would be put out by the road and people would pick up what they needed for their own projects. These boxes were made from that wood.
No one remembered that he had painted his name “Albert Schwartz” on the larger of the boxes and it was a fun discovery to make. Nothing much is going to happen to these boxes; they’ll get wiped down and touched up for preservation, a little clear sealant, but other than that we’re not going change a thing. I want them just as they are. A wonderful piece of our family history that followed me home.