Dad passed on four years ago, but his lessons remain with me. I wanted to share them with the dads (and moms) among our readers who may appreciate them. Let’s call them “Elmer’s Maxims”:

• Tools are not toys
• There is a right way to do everything
• Use leverage to your advantage
• Never overtighten a screw or bolt
• Before working on any electrical outlet of fixture, always trace the circuit to the switch box and turn off the power
• Save this, it might be useful some day
• Do a first-class job

I listed these pearls in the order that I remember learning them.

Tools Are Not Toys. As a mere tyke, I was fascinated by Dad’s workbench. He had built it himself, a wide, menacing hulk with overhead cabinets, a thick benchtop, and drawers too heavy for my little hands to open.  Dad would sit me on a highchair while he puttered. Even then, more than a half century ago, he had collected an arsenal of tools. He would explain what he was doing and what each tool was for. He’d let me handle them carefully, maybe snip a wire with needle nose pliers or take a hammer to a nail. Dad taught me to have great respect for tools and hardware, to choose the right tool for a task, and that if you take good care of tools they will last for many years.

There is a Right Way. In my tween years, tools weren’t as cool as Hot Wheels cars or baseball. And basic “chores” (I still hate that word) were totally uncool. Like sweeping steps or cutting the grass. Dad wanted thing done His Way, adapted from his days in the army, at Carnegie Tech and his working career. At this point in our relationship, I was in boot camp, and former PFC Elmer was the drill sergeant. To avoid The Lecture, I reluctantly followed the rules till they became rote behaviors. To this day I handle a broom with short, brisk strokes.

One fine spring day I was struggling to turn over the rock-hard garden soil with a spade. Use Leverage, Dad said. Set your feet, stay balanced, use your legs, save your back.

It took a couple of sheared screws and one slip of a socket wrench—BAM—off my forehead to get the Do Not Overtighten lesson through my noggin.

Dad could have been a master electrician.  He had upgraded and rewired our home’s electrical panel, adding enough outlets and lighting to rival Las Vegas. Anything electrical, he could restore to life. And he always followed the Trace and Turn off the Power at the Box rule. Except that one time when he was rewiring a socket at my house and my mother flipped on a light in the next room. Zapped him right off the ladder. Point taken. I blame the unfamiliar surroundings.

Save This, It Might Be Useful Someday. Truly “this” was a twin-edged sword. The old dryer motor that he turned into a grinding wheel was a triumph of ingenuity. Three more old motors in reserve on a shelf I called hoarding. I learned the value of keeping a few wood pieces on hand (for shims or odd jobs), but I have resisted the compulsion to replicate his rainy-day storeroom of spare parts.

Slowly, Dad’s principles became my own guideposts. But when I was handed a set of car keys, I attached a sense of purpose and (dare I say) pride to them. I learned to Do a First-Class Job.

When Dad treated himself to a new car, our old 1966 Dodge Coronet 440 station wagon was left to my tender 17-year-old mercies. He made me an easy bargain: He’d pay my insurance. I bought my own gas, and I had to ensure that the car would pass inspection.

Readers of a certain age know that cars of the 1960s had steel body parts bolted to the frames, and the seams and crannies underneath collected dirt, water and winter salt. Eventually my old ride was rusting grille to tailgate. Dad introduced me to the world of Green Magic putty, steel mesh, metal snips, pop rivets and primer and How to Use a Piece of an Old Zenith TV Cabinet to Fix a Hole in a Fender.

I could have slap-dashed and primed over the rust and eked through inspection, but this was my ride. Out came the wire brush, the filler, the primer and sandpaper, then the finish coat of metallic red. First class, y’know.

Thanks, Dad.

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads in BlackHawk world. When I was patching the old Dodge, I wish I had had access to today’s advanced grind and polish tools, like these BlazeX discs from Norton Abrasives.

A Father’s Day Gift Tip
If you still haven’t bought Dad a gift look at the Norton BlazeX Fiber Discs. They feature a new formulation specifically designed for better performance on carbon steel and soft-to-grind metals. Improved micro-fracturing grain delivers better cut rates vs. blended ceramic alumina discs. Heavy fiber backing provides a superior face-to-surface grind and resists tearing. These versatile discs handle rust removal, cleaning and detailing processes. Bright orange BlazeX discs are available in:

• 4-1/2 x 7/8in., 5 x 7/8in. and 7 x 7/8in sizes
• Both standard hole and speed change attachments
• Coarse and medium grits ranging from 36-80

Applications: Stock removal, deburring, beveling, blending, cleaning & detail, finishing

Industries: MRO, metal fab, welding, oil & gas, energy, shipyard

For stainless steel, try the original Norton Blaze discs.

BlackHawk Industrial Supply
BlackHawk Industrial is proud to offer top of the line products like Norton Abrasive Discs can be purchased right here on the BlackHawk website.

Our trained professionals are also happy to help you with any of your tool questions. We welcome you to contact us by email at [email protected] or call us TOLL FREE at (855) 610-1001

BlackHawk’s Mission
Our mission is to provide innovative, value-added services and products that reduce our customer’s total cost. Feel free to contact us for more information.