by Tom Keer w/ image
Say the name Remington, Winchester, L.C. Smith, Parker Brothers, A.H. Fox or Colt to a sportsman and they’ll no doubt say guns. As jeans are to Levi’s®, so intrinsic are firearms to those companies’ brands. Some of that might have to do with a heavy pour of romance, history, legacy, quality and innovation; the “Winning of the West” is far sexier with a Winchester ’94, a Colt Single-Action Army and an Appaloosa than with a typewriter, flatware or a plow.
The difference between a business and a hobby is a business makes money, and those companies were run as businesses. In some years, especially those marked by conflict, they made a lot of it. But during those in between periods when supply was greater than demand, they shifted their attention to other core products manufactured from machined metal and turned wood. When skilled workmen weren’t turning out barrels or triggers, they made housewares like coffee mills and curtain rods just as easily as they produced hardware like screws, door hinges, latches and knobs. Stock makers probably enjoyed checkering a forend more than building shipping crates, tables or chairs, but I suspect this is true: with families to support, they enjoyed cashing a pay check more than not.
Take New Haven, Connecticut’s, Winchester Repeating Arms for example. Depending on the decade, between 20,000 and 30,000 employees passed through the gates of the hallowed factory located at 275 Winchester Avenue. They worked inside the brick exterior, machining metal and cutting wood used in some of the most famous firearms known to hunters and shooters: Models 66, Model 73 and Model 94 lever-action rifles, the Model 70 bolt-action rifle and our bird hunting favorites, the Model 21 and Model 12. True Winchester fans know that I’ve simply hit a highlight reel for Winchester-made Enfield rifles, M1 Garands and M1 Carbines helped win wars.
Winchester identified the sporting, adventurous set as an area of growth and, for a very brief time, even experimented with motorcycles. Around the turn of the 20th Century, The Edwin F. Merry Company of San Francisco was commissioned to build 200 motorcycles of which only two are known to exist. These motor bikes were sold between 1909 and 1911 and have come up for auction twice in the past decade. The sale of a fire engine red model and a dark navy-blue one was handled by noted sporting auctioneer, James D. Julia. Part of me wanted to attend the event, but, for a change, my reason prevailed over my passion. That’s a good thing for if I raised my hand before the final gavel, I’d have been saddled with a nearly $600,000 bill. And I didn’t want to say, “Angela, we have to sell the house. I just bought a hundred-year-old 6-horsepower motorcycle.”
Other sporting and consumer products came in the 1930s when the innovative John D. Olin of Olin Industries bought Winchester in 1931. Those were tough years, with the Depression hitting everyone’s wallets. Sporting arms sales were light since no one had money to buy a new shotgun. The post-WWI and pre-WWII peace time caused lucrative military contracts to dry up. Instead of making Model 12s, production lines turned out refrigerators, flashlights, fishing rods, ice and roller skates, hatchets, saws, knives, screwdrivers, lawnmowers and many other products.
A few falls ago, I thought I hit a small-time jackpot – one that I thought might catapult me into an early retirement. Angela and I were in between coverts and we drove past an antique shop. I crunched into the gravel driveway and opened the door to a building that looked more tattered than its wares.
We coughed our way through the aisles containing bric-a-brac that held more dust than a ceiling fan and, there I saw it, tucked all the way in the corner in the back. It was a shipping crate – a wooden one far more durable than the cardboard Amazon boxes we have today. I looked at the logo the same way I’d stare at an old friend: Winchester.
Were it packed with a top and bottom row of Model 21s I’d have done a dance. While it didn’t, the discovery was still just as cool; once upon a time, the crate housed a Winchester reel lawn mower. You know, the push kind that came loaded with blades that spun around when moved and gave the grass a haircut? I’m told they’re making a comeback these days. Folks seem to favor the low cost, low maintenance, no carbon footprint selling points. If you’ve never used one, then know you can make it pay for itself by dropping your gym membership. The pushing and pulling of a metal and wood lawn mower is as good for strength training as it is for cardiovascular exercise.
The owner saw me eyeballing that crate.
“Pretty neat, huh?” he asked.
“Sure is,” I said. “How much do you want?”
“A Lincoln will do.”
“Five bucks?”
“Ok. Know where the lawnmower is?”
He laughed. “You think I’d be sitting here if I did?”
Earlier this year, I saw one that was in great condition. It was a double gear version with cast iron wheels and an intact handle marked Winchester Ball Bearing. I didn’t sell it for retirement money, but it fetched a good price just shy of a grand. I won’t be around to see if today’s plastic gas lawnmowers will be coveted in 2124, so if we meet in Tinkhamtown let me know how that worked out, will ya?
Many bird doggers lust over any of the approximately 242,000 shotguns manufactured in Meriden, Connecticut at the Parker Brothers Gun Works. Considered by many to be America’s finest shotgun, craftsmen took pride in their work. From Monday through Friday, these stock makers, barrel makers, engravers and others logged 10-hour shifts. They began work promptly at 7 a.m., ended at 6 p.m. and had an hour off at noon for lunch. Saturdays were half days, and they generally worked only five or six hours.
But Parker Brothers had four other factories in the general Meriden area, and all in them manufactured more than 200 household items – many of which appeared in the 1858 catalog. Parker’s core business was practical household items like curtain rods, light plates, screws, locks, latches and doorknobs. There were coffee and spice grinders, piano stools, eyeglasses and metal toys like ships, locomotives and bicycles. Flatware, wooden shipping crates and cabinets were large parts of the company’s business. Then, as now, Parker Brothers sold a far greater number of spoons than shotguns.
Several years ago, my friend Legh Higgins showed me the Parker Brothers coffee grinder he has in his kitchen at Twombly Setters at Coronation Kennels. Legh and his wife, Jenn, are the third generation of English setter breeders that stem from his grandfather Earl Twombly’s genetics. A side note is that Earl supplied Corey Ford with what become two of the most famous English setters of all time: Cider and Tober. Cider got his call name because he went to work in the fall and Tober is short for October, which, like us, was Ford’s favorite month of the year. That Legh and Jenn began each morning with a cup of Parker-ground coffee is as perfect as the 16-gauge O frame Legh shoots.
Legh rang me up a short while ago.
“A few years ago, you seemed keen on my coffee grinder,” he said. “Are you still?”
“Totally,” I said. “Do you know of one for sale?”
“There’s a collection of a few dozen coming up for auction. I’m happy to bid on one for you if you’d like.”
“That’d be awesome,” I said.
A few weeks went by and I hadn’t heard anything. I figured my bid wasn’t accepted, and that was fine, I could make it another year using the plastic one I had. But hope sprung eternal and my phone rang with good news that got even better.
“I’ve got your grinder,” he said. “You can drive up to the Northeast Kingdom and pick it up or I’ve got another option.”
“What’s that?”
“Dean Romig is up here turkey hunting. He lives a few hours from you. How about I give it to him and save you some drive time and gas?”
For many years, Dean Romig was editor at the Parker Pages, the member magazine of the Parker Gun Collectors Association. If you’ve ever met Dean at the Northeast Side-by-Side in Friendsville or the Southern Side-by-Side, then you’ll know he’s one of many things. First, that he’s a dead ringer for the Kris Kristofferson, the actor, musician and helicopter pilot (Dean has lived an equally colorful life). Second, his knowledge of all things Parker is fluid and encyclopedic. And, third, he’s generous in sharing those insights. He, like Legh, is top flight. On most mornings when I pour a second cup of coffee, I think of those two gents for as with dogs and hunting, part of collecting is about the people you meet.
I work with a lot of writers every day, but I don’t know of any who still work on a typewriter. Writing machines was a side hustle of sorts for Big Green, also known as the Remington Arms Company, formerly of Ilion, New York. Remington had been making firearms for more than 60 years, expanded into the agricultural business that included plows, tillers and cultivators, but they revolutionized the writing game. That happened in 1878 when a fellow inventor named Christopher Sholes persuaded the firearm company to back his new QWERTY idea. Don’t waste your time trying to figure out if that’s a new text abbreviation because if you’ve ever used a typewriter, computer or sent a text message then you’ll recognize those letters from the top row, left to right spot on your keyboard. The Remington No. 2 typewriter and its key configuration was so successful that we’ve been using it ever since. Think about that the next time you send a text …
Lyman Cornelius Smith, better known as L.C. or Elsie, started producing breech loaded shotguns with his brother Leroy and a gun designer, William H. Baker. After initial success, the group split, leaving Elsie to partner with his younger brother Wilbert and a new gun designer, Alexander Brown. They, too, were successful, but their company didn’t last long. By 1889, they sold the successful company to Hunter Arms and went on to produce typewriters. Add an Elsie typewriter to your Remington Adding Machine and you’ve got as fine a double barrel of office equipment as it gets.
For most of their years, Colt’s Manufacturing Company focused on firearm production. Their first military contract bought their Colt Army Model 1860 and, throughout their history, those sales were essential to a healthy P&L. The stock market crash of 1929 forced diversification, but Colt had the capabilities to stay solvent by making printing presses, commercial dishwashers, ticket punches and other office machines. In 1923, they launched an electrical division that supplied power and lights to American homes. Switch plates, fuses, breaker panels, safety switches and magnetic motor starters were in their product assortment. If you know of an old home that’s about to be remodeled or demolished, swing by. You may find a few Colt electrical items to add to your collection.
The Fox Gets the Game is a tagline of the Fox Shotgun Company, and that carries over to fishing. While the A.H. Fox Bakelite level-wind reel with adjustable bearings was most popular, the company also made a single-action trolling reel and fly reels. If you want the epitome of old school cool then match a Fox reel with a Winchester rod. That’s a double in my book.
If you’re an addict like me, you probably won’t pass on the next shotgun to buy a coffee grinder, but maybe you will? Adding a few collectibles made by those fine American companies adds a new dimension to an obsession. And when seasons are closed you can get as much enjoyment by picking away at a keyboard, sawing a board or grinding beans for a pot of coffee. For a sportsman, what could be better than that?
Tom Keer owns The Keer Group, a marketing and public relations company that focuses on outdoor sports and recreation. He’s a writer, hunter and fisherman and a setter man.
