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A warm Mother's Day story: Love that old stove!By CLARE ANSBERRYThe Wall Street Journal W hen it comes to loyalty and long-term relationships, Ellen Teagarden considers herself especially fortunate. Her Magic Chef stove has lasted more than 55 years, a longevity she attributes, in part, to dedicated scouring. ``The beauty of the stove is that I can take it apart and really clean inside those burners,'' said the 84-year-old Dallas resident. She admits to once flirting with the idea of a self-cleaning model displayed in the lobby of the local gas company. But when her four grown children heard of her plans, ``they went right up the wall,'' she said. Every Thanksgiving, her husband takes a picture of the stove, which, thanks to its nonrusting, nontarnishing white porcelain surface, never seems to age. It brings back memories on Mother's Day. ``I have such fond memories of that stove,'' said Teagarden's daughter, Linda Porter. ``Fried okra always came out perfect.'' Such devotion isn't all that unusual, it turns out, when the right person and the right product get together. ``You'd be surprised how attached people get to their appliances,'' said Suzie Myers, of Myers Appliance Service in Stow, Ohio. Of course, you can forge long-lasting relationships only with an appliance that lasts long, which isn't always the case. There is less time to bond with, say, can openers. For whatever reasons, bigger appliances seem to last longer, barring sabotage. Helen Coughlin, of Denver, was understandably upset when the motor on her refrigerator, only a year old, failed. But she took some consolation when a repairman determined that it wasn't a mechanical problem but rather a case of a wayward mouse that crossed paths with the refrigerator's fan. She's happy to say the refrigerator has been running smoothly since then -- then being 1947.
Not all old appliances engender such commitment. People seem to develop stronger ties to cooking appliances than to washers and dryers. That could be because families seldom congregate in the laundry room unless they are short of socks. Moreover, washers and dryers don't promote the kind of creative expression that has produced a variety of carrot gelatin molds. Appliance makers tried to make laundry machines endearing with names like Snowball and Bluebird, both marked improvements over Thor, a 1906 chain-driven model that not only washed clothes but shredded any long shirt within reach. But aside from developments to eliminate lint fuzz, laundry-room appliances haven't been very exciting. That isn't to say washers and dryers aren't lovable. At least to someone. Or some thing. Like the cat from Ohio that would sit for hours atop an old washing machine that had a glass lid, mesmerized by the clothing swirling below. When the machine gave out, the cat's owner was beside herself because appliance makers, apparently unaware of the entertainment value of glass lids, began making all-metal machines. ``She was crying, saying her cat would never be the same,'' recalled Myers, the appliance saleswoman who sold the woman a new machine. ``All I could say was `I'm sorry.' '' These relationships aren't based just on looks. Early-model refrigerators resemble overgrown marshmallows, white having been the only option, unless someone around the house was handy with a can of paint, as Jim Allen's father was. He painted the family refrigerator yellow.
``My mother was thrilled. It looked brand new,'' said the younger Allen, who works for General Electric Appliances in Louisville, Ky. In 1955, GE introduced Mix-Or-Match Colors. Refrigerators decked in petal pink and canary yellow became a fashion statement. Avocado hit a decade later. If appearances were all that mattered, Teresa Ebel would have stood up a 1948 roaster, De Luxe Model RD-414. A well-meaning friend set Ebel up with the roaster, after she was jilted by her regular, modern oven. She feigned interest, but thought the roaster looked as though it belonged in a doctor's office sterilizing surgical scissors. Little did she know that it could cook ham loaf, baked potatoes and cottage pudding with caramel sauce all at once, the suggested Meal 8 in the pamphlet accompanying the roaster. ``I've become very fond of this,'' said Ebel, of Berkeley, Calif. ``I never had luck with roasts before.''
Of course, the old roaster doesn't clean itself, the self-cleaning phenomenon not having arrived until 1963. Loyalists of old appliances must forgo other amenities as well: Freezer compartments in early refrigerators are about the size of one family-size box of fish sticks. They also need to be defrosted every few months, although some people have a different defrosting philosophy. Minnie Tucci hasn't defrosted her 50-year-old freezer for about 15 years and isn't about to do so now. A few inches of frost could provide crucial insulation in case of an electrical outage at her home in Maplewood, Minn. Besides, if she turns off the freezer for defrosting, it may never start up again. ``I don't want to put a curse on it. I might go downstairs and find it's dead.'' While the old appliances lacked certain options, kitchens of yore seemed to have a little more imagination. The Cabana Kitchen, a 1959 layout from GE, came with a small wading pool, so children could float a boat right there on the kitchen floor. And it seems harder to find a stove with a good brain these days, which is why Doris Westermeier lugged her 30-year-old range with her during each of three moves. Actually, only one of the four burners on her range has a brain, the others being of normal intelligence.
The ``burner with a brain'' has a built-in thermostat controlling the size of the flame, making it wonderful for cream dishes that need low steady temperatures to avoid curdling. Westermeier uses her brainless burners for quick hits, like scrambled eggs. Not everyone can take their old appliances with them. So people offer them as promotional material or museum pieces. Junking a family refrigerator would be like sending ``an old friend down the river,'' one man wrote to GE. Or in the case of Tom Spartano, his mother, Bessie, the namesake of Old Bessie, the refrigerator he inherited from her. He offered the refrigerator to GE but says the company wasn't interested. ``We put in on the curb. I felt pretty bad,'' said Spartano, who lives in Lorain, Ohio. Ida Johnson didn't want to get rid of her refrigerator. Last year, she simply wrote to Westinghouse Electric Corp., which, unknown to Johnson, hadn't made refrigerators for 20 years, saying she had just defrosted her 50-year-old model, which she bought at Ubels Funeral Home & Furniture Store in her home town, Johnsonburg, Pa. ``It's still good-looking, and the vegetable and meat bins are in wonderful condition.'' she said. ``I can walk in blindfolded and open the door and know where everything is.'' In appreciation for her letter and continuing commitment to the appliance, retired Westinghouse employee and volunteer historian Charles Ruch sent her a brochure and cookbook from the George Westinghouse Museum in Wilmerding, Pa. The museum has a Room of Achievement housing commemorative medals given to George Westinghouse, and an Appliance Room featuring the ``twins'' -- a matching Laundromat and Dryer. |
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