The Big Eight-Oh!

On January twenty-fifth, 1928, George Turpie Davison entered this world. This past Friday was his 80th birthday, folks. Here are some random notes about the birthday boy.

My Dad grew up during the Great Depression and no doubt has some interesting stories to tell about it. One of them that sticks in my mind has to do with a time they were so poor that his family didn't even own a clock.

The Davisons had moved from Crystal Beach, Ontario to California, USA sometime in the thirties. I know that at one point they were living at Uncle Harry Havner's old duck hunting farm. This may or may not have been when they were clockless.

Seems that a discarded tin alarm clock was found and brought back to the house. Not only was the it not working, but it was missing the minute hand.

Grandpa Norm soaked it in kerosene to unfreeze the clockworks, so it at least could be wound up. My Dad says that they were then able to set the hour hand by listening to the chimes in the town's clock tower.

By all reports it ran pretty well and you could interpolate the approximate time by looking at the position of the hour hand.

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