Folding Bookshelf Grandpa Built
Ivan Macbeth: 1904-1972
I have fond memories of puttering around in what my
grandparents called “the shop”, my Grandfather’s woodworking shop. When I was
really young, the shop was a chicken coop—a long, low building with windows on
the side that faced the house. Sometime in the mid-1960s, Grandma gave up her
chickens and Grandpa converted the building into a storage and work area for
himself—a man-cave outside the house.
Ivan Macbeth in his early teens |
Ivan Macbeth was my maternal grandfather, and lived on his
parents’ farm outside Eagle Lake, Minnesota. I liked to go to the shop with him
because he’d let me hammer nails into scraps of wood. He never criticized me or
laughed at my efforts—he was always kind and encouraging. I don’t know if I ever
managed to put together anything useful, but I had fun.
I’m not sure how many things Grandpa built over the years. I
only really noticed two. First, he made a custom frame for a huge
paint-by-number painting my mother did of the Last Supper. She worked on it
while she was pregnant with me, so it had a lot of sentimental value for her.
Grandpa’s frame was about three inches wide with a lot of detail.
Detail on bookshelf |
The second of Grandpa’s wood pieces was a four-shelf
bookshelf. My mom inherited it after Grandpa had died and Grandma Nora moved in
with my uncle and aunt. The interesting thing about the shelf design was that
it could be folded up when it needed to be moved—the legs and shelves would
fold down to make the piece only a few inches thick.
My mom had the shelves in her bedroom in her assisted living
apartment. When she had to move into a nursing home, there was no room for the
shelves anymore, and they ended up in a storage unit, where I took theses
photos. I didn’t really have a place for the shelves in my house; nor did my
brother. They were probably donated. However, at least I have the photos of the
shelves and the memories of my Grandpa happily absorbed with the tools in his
woodshop.
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