At work we have a key cutting machine. It’s been with us for almost 20 years and it is still going strong. Newer style keys have superseded this machine, but it is still good for most keys people bring into us.
When we first got this key cutter I knew an elderly Engineer in his eighties. He had worked in the Yalourne power industry, which is a couple of hundred kilometres from
Being an engineer he had an enquiring mind, so when he visited our shop he saw me cutting a key and looked at the Voltmeter mounted in the middle of the machine. Probably not something I had ever really looked at. But as soon as he had, he explained the purpose of the voltmeter and I saw him pondering some lost memory from his days at the power station.
Soon after his visit he died I saw his grandson a couple of times, I think he was quite close to his grandad.
So, today as I cut a keys, I think of my old engineer with his snow white hair and moustache. And whenever I see the voltmeter needle go flicking back and forth he is there next to me pondering that electric current.
He hasn’t been forgotten, his story lives on. He had some fantastic stories to tell.
Woof.
2 comments:
Post some of his stories.
Enjoyed the read by the way. Ta
Thanks for the kind comments. Now four dinners I recognise from reading life of a stranger. [donna] but I don't know down by the bay. When did he give you the stones???? Four dinners yes i will tell the story of his motor bike in the desert. Ok. Cya.
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