A Local Tool Chest

As we were driving back from music camp last week, we passed a local lumber mill that had a fire last year. Near the road they have a spot where they put free stuff, trash and scrap wood as they clean out and rebuild. Even while driving, I easily noticed a familiar shape among the trash: a tool chest. I pulled in by the pile to find it soaking wet and full of trash (mainly Dutch Bros cups). It was big enough to house a solid kit of joiner’s tools, but small enough that I could pick it up on my own. I noticed the dovetailed corners, bold skirt boards and the initials painted on the front. I threw it in the back of the truck and went home to unload from camp. I don’t NEED a chest, but I couldn’t help but be swept up in the history and tradition of a chest like this. Who made it? What was their craft? Who did it get passed down to? Why is it in the trash?

In pre-industrial times, up until mid 20th century, it was common for woodworkers to keep all of their tools in one chest. Their tools were often labeled with their name and the chest was locked at night. When they needed to leave a job, they could heave the chest onto their transport of choice and move on to the next opportunity. It was a physical manifestation of their skill and contained most of what they needed to make a living. I first encountered a chest like this in the book Carpentry for Beginners by Charles H. Hayward. (Btw, this title is so misleading that it could make me cry. I have been humbled many times by what Hayward thought “beginners” should be capable of.) Here is the chest he suggests for an early 20th century amateur woodworker.

I can’t move on without mentioning Christopher Schwarz’s groundbreaking book, The Anarchist’s Toolchest, which changed my life for the better. His premise is that a human can own a small set of tools that will allow them to make or repair any wooden item that a home needs, from boxes, to spoons, to furniture. This attitude in itself is a radical act in a disposable, consumer driven culture. Building the chest necessary to hold these tools is your first step to breaking away from an unjust, capitalist system. Here are some examples of his style of chest, built by another idol of mine, Megan Fitzpatrick:

I don’t work out of a chest, instead I use a wall unit, inspired by one in Hayward’s book. I also own an old Mahogany blanket chest that I have fitted out for tools, mainly seldom used ones and extras. If I ever need to make a break for it, I could pack it up with the basic tools in short order. Here are two pictures of my corner of the world:

As we examine our rescued chest, let us first look at the size.

Our chest: 34”x20”x16”

Hayward: 24”x19”x16”

Schwarz: 38”x22”x25”

As a test, I could fit my largest crosscut and rip saws in our chest, as well as my longest plane, something that would be hard to do in the Hayward chest. Even though it wouldn’t swallow as many tools as Schwarz’ chest, our chest would be much easier to move.

Notice that our chest has a dovetailed case, while the rest of the skirt and lid boards are mitered and wrapped with steel corners.

The inside is fitted out with two small cubbies, but no other trays, tills, tool holders or dividers of any kind. I believe that if it ever had been used by a serious wood worker, there would have been some attempt to organize the tools in this way. Note some of the interior “guts” of the Anarchist’s chest below:

Could this have been a school/apprenticeship/training project that has been collecting dust ever since? It’s possible. It barely looks used, with none of the wear that I would expect from a working chest. When was this chest made? The problem with dating vernacular pieces like this is that the forms don’t change much over time. A chest like this could be from 1800 to 1970. One clue to its age is the metal hardware. When we found the chest, it only had nails and flat head screws holding it together. Phillips head screws weren't widespread until the 1930’s.

When I flipped the chest over, I saw two things of note. First, “Edward Erickson #3552” was written on the bottom panel. Could he be the second owner? Or was this board from a packing crate, reused to make the chest? Also, notice the rot strips. These are pieces of wood screwed to the bottom that keep the chest off of the damp ground. (Oregon) See that one of strips is riddled with holes from bugs/worms. If it wasn’t for these strips the chest would be long gone. I think I’ll replace these.

The last interesting thing that I will share is the paint. The initials on the front are hand painted in an old style that I enjoy. Most of the rest of the paint is missing, but I see two colors in it, brown and yellow. The yellow seems to flow in curves and waves, which points to the chest being grain painted. Grain painting was a decorative style common in America and England in the 19th century as a way to imitate more expensive woods. Here is a small example from New England, circa 1840.

See the remnants of it on our chest?

If you look inside at the plain Pine boards, they do not follow the grain lines on the outside. It must have been painted on.

So, what am I going to do with this chest? As of today, I really don’t know. It is 100% “in the way” right now in the shop. I will probably stash it in the shed, awaiting final repairs or modifications. In the meantime, I will wonder about T.H.R. and their chest.

Thanks for keeping the lights on…

A