Fixin’ Bessie “What is that?” I was in the corner end of our basement that was my father’s “workshop.” Under one of those 12”x18” two pane cellar windows, sat my father’s hand-built workbench, vise on one end, grinder on the other. The rest of the workshop consisted of floor to…
Fixin’ Bessie “What is that?” I was in the corner end of our basement that was my father’s “workshop.” Under one of those 12”x18” two pane cellar windows, sat my father’s hand-bu…
Fixin’ Bessie “What is that?” I was in the corner end of our basement that was my father’s “workshop.” Under one of those 12”x18” two pane cellar windows, sat my father’s hand-built workbench, vise on one end, grinder on the other. The rest of the workshop consisted of floor to ceiling shelves on one wall and around the corner on the other. The shelves were stacked with George Washington pipe tobacco cans full of nails, bottles full of screws, wooden boxes full of tools, or “just-in-case” spare parts or might-fix-something-with-that bits and bobs. I was about ten, and…
Alan Cay Culler
May 10, 2026
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Dana Goodier 
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Karen Wyatt