As it has for over half a century, the old clock rests on the fireplace mantle, a treasure beyond value, lovingly entrusted to me for safekeeping, by my father.

The cathedral shape and prominent base represent a long abandoned design era. The ebony oak finish, flawed by the cracks and creases of age, contrast with the gold ring surrounding the ivory parchment face.

The elegantly scrolled hands have remained motionless for most of its life, the victim of an often broken mainspring.


The fragile, convex glass face has miraculously survived the exploration of two generations of grandchildren.


It has borne silent witness to the rapid expansion and painful contraction of a family, and is a constant reminder of my father—strong, bold and unchanging in the face of progress.