The Second Time Around

I buy lots of things secondhand...you know, homes, cars, even music and DVDs.
I just can't justify spending money on something new when good pre-owned or gently-used can do the job just fine.
My late great paternal grandfather was a perfect example of this.
Like many of his generation, which history would come to remember as 'the greatest generation', he came out of the Great Depression.  And times were anything but great.
One of seven children in his home, he was expected to help contribute to the family income, being the son of Polish and Russian immigrants.  He began working in the coal mines at the age of 11, and ended his formal schooling in eighth grade.  And when his prematurely aged back could no longer withstand the rigors of coal mining, he took a job as a crane operator for Allegheny Ludlum and worked in this same capacity until taking an early retirement in 1972. 
He also had a family to support, made up of a stay-at-home mom, four sons and a daughter. 
So for extra income, he often worked as a neighborhood handyman, fixing things as they became broken...for far less than a house call would charge.  To help his neighbors even further, he stripped discarded appliances and automobiles of any salvageable parts. 
He kept these parts in what he called 'shanties' on the two-acre plot he owned where his house still sits.  The house had been a former gas and service station that he completely renovated himself.
The parts were often kept in buckets or boxes, most often labeled with the contents.
"I NEVER throw anything away!"  I remember hearing him say.
He sure didn't.
Car radios and tape decks.  Gas and radiator caps.  Ignition switches.  Electric motors, timers and capacitors from washers and dryers.  Vacuum cleaners.  TV channel tuners.  Car batteries, starters and alternators.  Wheels.  Drive belts.  Appliance and extension cords.  Even rusted out hand tools and cord-worn power tools were worth a little elbow grease and some time before they were made like new again. 
Fortunately, they had a house and yard big enough to hold these things...because, as my grandfather would proudly attest, you never knew when you were going to need something.
And he believed that things made long ago were better than the present model, and if he had the parts to fix something, why not?
If there was any legacy he left to my family, it was never to waste anything.  Three of his sons, including my dad, followed suit.
Anytime I need to fix anything, I usually call my dad.  Nine chances out of ten, he'll have the part or the know-how to fix it. 
Or at least the confidence to try.
That's something I'm still working on.
And hopefully it'll get done in this lifetime.
Because there is no 'second time around'.

NEXT WEEK:  Shoe Business