|
Raymond Chidester, 92, works on a pocket watch in his home on June 27. He learned the skill at his first full-time job and went on to work on instruments in the aircraft industry and for medical research.
- |
By CATHY DYSON
Ray Chidester knows all about keeping time.
After he graduated from trade school in 1935, he became a toolmaker who worked on everything from bomb sights to anti-aircraft guns, microwaves to medical instruments.
But he always had a special place in his heart for the tick-tock of timepieces.
Over the years, he fixed pocket watches that kept railroad workers on time all the live-long day and grandfather clocks that chimed in Victorian living rooms.
The Spotsylvania County man is still doing the same type of repairs at 92, with hands as steady as those of someone half his age.
But all that experience doesn't mean Chidester--also known as "Dr. Clock"--can't lose track of time himself.
He worked at the National Bureau of Standards in Boulder, Colo., from 1949 to 1973, and helped develop the atomic clock, which keeps official government time.
He worked alone in a lab, and people he car-pooled with often came looking for him at day's end.
He'd get so involved with a project, he'd have no idea how late it was.
Chidester is still the same. After 60 years of marriage, his wife, Frances, has to remind him to eat.
"He's always been able to concentrate on what he had to do," she said.
Chidester is not about to pack away his tweezers, screwdrivers and eye loupes because they're antiques.
Nor does he look like someone born in 1914.
He has clear blue eyes and few crow's feet, even though he smiles often.
His right eye has deteriorated over time, but his other senses are sharp. He can hear a tiny watch screw hit the floor under his chair or someone talking several rooms away.
He works every day, for hours at a stretch, on pieces that have become family heirlooms.
"I don't want to sit around and watch TV," he said. "I'm privileged to work."
Chidester was reluctant to be interviewed because he doesn't want more business.
People he's known across the country--the few he hasn't outlived--still send him pieces to repair. So do fellow members of Goshen Baptist Church in Spotsylvania.
"A lot of people have these antique watches and antique clocks, and they don't entrust them to just anybody," said Betty Turnley, a church member.
Most of the pieces need a good cleaning, but others require intense work. Often, the pivot holes get worn out, and the teeth of the wheels bind because the gears don't hit in the center.
Chidester has to create new bushings, or sleeves that reduce the friction.
He does the repairs using skills he learned at his first job, with the Hamilton Watch Co. in Lancaster, Pa.
No matter the task, "he doesn't stop until it's perfect," said Rena Wyatt, who's known Chidester for years. "He's a marvelous man."
One of Chidester's favorite pocket watches was made in 1902 and belonged to his father, a railroad man. Holdridge Chidester died in the 1918 flu epidemic.
But his timepiece is still going strong, thanks to his son's watchful care.
"This is a beautiful piece of machinery, made way back when," Chidester said, "and it's every bit as good as it was then because it's been taken care of properly."
Some might say the same of Dr. Clock.
Cathy Dyson: 540/374-5425| FIRST WAGE: 25 cents an hour, making screwdrivers for watchmakers EDUCATION: 1935 graduate of Stevens Trade School in Hallstead, Pa., a school for orphans. His father died when he was 4, so he and his brother qualified. Everything was provided, even free haircuts. CAREER: Was a toolmaker who worked for eight different companies, from Pennsylvania to Michigan, which made everything from locomotives to guns. Was a scientific instrument maker with the U.S. Bureau of Standards in Washington and Boulder, Colo., from 1949 until his retirement in 1973. FAMILY: Married to Frances for 60 years. "They still hold hands in church," said Betty Turnley, a fellow member of Goshen Baptist Church. They have four children and five grandchildren. |
