Imagine a young man, just out of college, 23, married and with a baby boy, just starting his career. He sees a chance to do something he loves and get paid for it. He’s only making about $2.50 an hour and needs a few special tools to do his job.
He saves what he can for weeks but he can only buy one first tool, a used slide rule.
With that tool he finishes projects faster, saves a little more, and he buys other tools to become more proficient at this job. And he uses those tools every day for the rest of his career. With those tools he supports his family, buys a second car, has another child, buys his first home, and sets a little aside for his children’s education, year after year, after year.
His little boy asks him, over and over, to explain how that slide rule works.
And with patience he shows the young boy how to read the little numbers. That magical tool provides answers and solves formulas, all while providing opportunities and providing for that little boy to grow up and find his own way in life. All the while being loved and cared for, protected and taught.
When we come across now obsolete or worn tools, they all have a story.
Whether it’s a wrench, a hammer, or an old yellowed slide rule, it once played an important part in some young person’s life. Every chip, scratch, and worn spot represents blood, sweat, and tears. It’s worth saving if only for the reminder of someone’s labor and sacrifice and love.
That’s what I see when I look at my father’s first tool, his slide rule.