I am thrilled to have been profiled in the most recent print edition of MAKE Magazine (Volume 40), which is available at newsstands now. I was asked by the Editor-in-Chief how I made the transition to clock repair as a career and what I like most about my occupation.

Here is an excerpt in which I explain why repairing antique clocks is different from most repair-based occupations:

When you visit your car mechanic, you may or may not be there by choice. Sometimes you simply must get your car running again. It’s not the same with clock repair. Customers have definitely made a choice to have their clock fixed. They have a complicated, delicate machine that they treasure for whatever reason. Perhaps it’s clever, perhaps it’s beautiful, or perhaps it belonged to a grandmother. Perhaps all three things are true. It’s an honor to be entrusted with these heirlooms and gratifying to see a customer’s face when they hear their clock chime for the first time in years.

Here is where you can read the complete article online: From Cubicle to Clock Repair: How I took the leap to following my passions.

When working on an antique clock, it's always best to leave as much of it in original condition as possible. But, to what degree should we take this -- especially when dealing with antiques that were produced in the thousands, even millions? Many clocks are not national treasures, but important family heirlooms. Their chances of being used, appreciated, and passed to the next generation are better if they are attractive and fully functional. Here's an example:

A customer asked to have the paper dial on her Ingraham cabinet clock restored so that the numbers could be read. The photograph shows the result of my work. Is the clock "all original"? No. Is it destined for the Smithsonian? No. Does it look correct and show respect to its original maker's vision? I think so, yes.

For some addition thoughts on the subject, check out Bob Frishman's article on Originality, Restoration and Refinishing. You will need to scroll to bottom of the page to find the article.

People that work with clocks have their own language. When found in a clock, we call the larger gears (or cogs) wheels. We call the smaller gears that mesh with wheels pinions. There is more than one type of pinion, but a form commonly found in American-made clocks is the lantern pinion.

The lantern pinion gets its name from its resemblance to an old-fashioned lantern, if viewed while holding it upright.  The lantern pinion was easy to make compared to one cut from a solid piece of brass. This is why it was widely used by so many Connecticut clock manufacturers such as Seth Thomas, Ansonia, Gilbert, Ingraham, Jerome, New Haven, Welch, Waterbury, and Sessions.

The lantern pinion is made up of two disc end caps, usually brass, connected by a series of small steel bars. The end caps are called shrouds and the bars are called trundles. Over time, the trundles can become worn by the teeth of the mating wheel rubbing against them -- usually with a mix of oil and dirt between them. With enough wear, the teeth on the mating gear can get jammed against the worn spots on the trundles. This can effect the reliability of a clock and even cause it to stop. At this point, I usually rebuild the pinion by installing new trundles.  That's what the lantern pinion shown above needs. This one is connected to the fan in a cuckoo clock, which helps to regulate how quickly the bird figure performs its action. This is being done as part of a comprehensive overhaul of the clock am am doing for a customer.

The repair procedure involves removing each trundle (often not all at once to maintain the distance between the shrouds), cutting new trundles from hardened steel on the watchmaker's lathe, installing the new trundles, and locking them in place. A worn lantern pinion can be the cause of very mysterious intermittent clock problems. Based on what I've seen, many repairers leave them alone, assuming the trundles will work for another few years. This assumption is probably true, until...one day, it's not.

Here is a video I shot of an unusual "Chime Strike mechanism I just repaired for a customer. The unit is called a "Chime Strike" . The mechanism came out of a Gilbert Hall Clock dating to around 1904.

It's a funny hybrid system. A sequence of chords take the place of a simple strike on a gong or a bell. The sequence will pick up wherever it left off, so the psuedo-song varies from hour to hour. The company called it a "chime strike" which seems appropriate; it's more than a simple strike, but not exactly a tune (chime) either.

I think the chords make a pleasing tone and a very interesting strike.