As early as I can remember, I have always enjoyed mechanical
things. I loved to take them apart and put them back together. I am not
sure where I got it, but I came into possession of an old Climax sewing
machine. It was the kind you had to pump or treadle with your feet
to make it go. My mother had two Singer sewing machines. One was
upstairs in the hall, a home model. The second was more of a commercial
style and was kept in the basement. The basement machine had a motor on
it, which I believe my father had added for her. She would do “homework”
in the basement, before I was born. A coat company would bring her
coat parts, already cut out and she would sew them together. It was
a way of making extra money, while still staying home with our family.
I spent several weeks taking the Climax machine apart, mostly cleaning
and lubricating to get it to run, but I was missing the main drive belt.
The belt was about ¼” round piece of leather, like a long shoe lace.
Mom came up with the belt. I don’t know where she got it, but I am sure
it involved my dad.
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After putting the belt on, I sat down to
make it work. I could no more make the treadle go up and down correctly
than I could figure out how to get the fabric through the machine.
Mom sat down, filled a bobbin, threaded the needle, and began sewing.
She was so smooth at it. She used her right knee to push a lever that raised
the foot so she could make turns, all while her toes were keeping the rhythm
to keep the machine sewing. |
Mom seemed to love sewing and made slip covers for all
the couches and chairs. In fact, my mom enjoyed sewing so much, she made
slipcovers for the slipcovers. On Sundays, when company would come over,
she would take the everyday slipcovers off to show the good slipcovers.
On the other hand, my sister Rose, had clear, plastic slipcovers, which
Rose said allowed the natural beauty of the fabric to show through. The
only problem with plastic was, when we got up, it made, well lets say an
embarrassing sound. |
Michael J., Joseph P, John M, and Frank, Jr. on
the plastic couch.
.
After the sewing machine, I would find and repair and old
clock and a Victor Victrola. The Victrola (record player) was in an old
wood milk box, it did not have a cabinet, but I got it working and the
skill I learned on it helped me fix our neighbor, Mrs. Johann’s Victrola.
That got me permission to climb Mrs. Johann’s cherry tree, and is how I
came to own a statue of Napoleon Bonaparte, but that’s another story.
As my mom became older, she sewed less, but became an
avid crocheter. Mom loved to crochet, she would crochet table cloths and
bed spreads, all with very intricate work. Each time she finished
a piece, she would wash and bleach it then hang it out in the
sun to dry. There were these large, accordion style racks, which
had hundreds of nails sticking though that would hold the crocheted piece
flat and smooth as it dried. Setting up and taking down the racks usually
meant a cut or scratch.
The crochet yarn would come in “hanks” folded up with
a paper band around it. Mom would need to unravel the yarn and coil up
into balls. The balls would sit at her feet or along side the chair and
feed out smoothly as she worked. As a kid, she would have me hold
out my hands and put the yarn on them while she unraveled it and wound
it into a ball. Years later, at my sister Fran’s house, I saw her
doing the same thing; it was a sign of things to come.
Over the years, Mom would crochet each of us a bed spread.
It was to be a cherished heirloom. I lost mine, some years
later. After my mother had passed away, my sister, Fran, found a
single crochet doily, one of the last Mom had made. Fran framed it
and sent it to me.
Several years ago, Fran crocheted a Christmas Angel for
many of us in the family. Mine, it is beautiful, it has the angel playing
a violin. Fran had remembered I played the violin in school. I decided
the Angel was too nice to only come out only at Christmas, so I set it
in my book case, next to Mom’s doily. I could not help but think
it made a nice picture and decided to have it photographed. There are two
framed copies of this print, my sister Fran has one, and the second I proudly
display on my wall.
Two Crocheted Pieces
| The photograph was created by my friend, Gene
D. Austin. Gene is a photographic artist. I have always been
impressed with his work. He has composed and created some magnificent pieces
such as the “Crown
of Thorns and Nails”. I gave Gene the Angel and Doily, told him
the story and asked if he might create something for me. For three months,
we never spoke a word about it, and then he simply brought me the photo.
When I first saw the photo, I got choked up and had tears in my eye. He
had captured the essence of the two crocheted pieces, the work of a mother
and daughter.
After looking at the doily, Gene saw a small knot and
did some research, Gene found out that often times the crotchetier would
leave the crochet hook there to mark the spot they had stopped and to hold
it together. So, Gene got on ebay and purchased a vintage bone crochet
hook. Knowing that my Mother and I am Catholic, gene felt a rosary would
be a good symbol of my Mother. He went on line and purchased a old, Italian
rosary. Actually he purchased several, taking the cross from one and the
beads from another to get the look he wanted. He then composed the picture
on some fabric, set the lights and took the photo of “The Two Crocheted
Pieces”. |
~Joseph DiMaggio
Feb 26, 2012
Addendum:
The commercial sewing machine dad bought from the coat
factory it had a motor on it. Dad put the motor on the machine I got from
Mrs. Juan. Mom made me slip covers. That's why he put a motor on it. I
didn't have a sewing machine.
The frame you talked about was a curtain stretcher. It
had to be set up outside.
~ M. Grace DiMaggio Knapich |
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