Notes from Old Town: How a lamp got its glow and coffins get built

Necessity is the mother of invention, and that saying is as true as it is old.

In 1861, the United States government began printing paper money. Green ink was used at the time to help prevent counterfeiting.

In 1909, Harrison McFadden created a lamp he saw as a necessity in banking circles — the iconic Emeralite lamp. The now highly collectible lamp, known as the bankers lamp, had a patented design that featured a green-glass shade with a unique pull-chain switch and brass base. The lamp became so popular that it was also used in offices, libraries and homes. Soon, the design was copied by many companies. An original Emeralite lamp, if one can be found, now sells for $750 or more.

Now the government has many ways to foil counterfeiting and you won’t see any of these lamps on the tellers’ stations at Palmetto State Bank or on Wendy Yeager’s desk at NBSC.

Getting ready for the afterlife

Each Tuesday, at an unused sports center in Sydney, Australia, retired friends meet to do something very unusual. They gather to build and decorate their own coffins. The club’s motto is “fine and affordable underground furniture.” The ages of the members range from the mid-70s to 94.

The members feel they are doing something of interest that also serves a purpose, and each creation is built to national standards. Some members also use them as above-ground furniture, saying “it is only a box until one needs to use it.”

The kits they use cost about $170 and, once they finish their own “box,” they often build others for charity. The members say they have lots of fun. Most have little interest in book clubs, fishing or quilting. One member said she has seen people come alive building their own “underground hideaway.”

A focus on art

I was reading our latest New Yorker magazine and, in the art section, something caught my eye. In the Chelsea area of New York at an art gallery by the name of “Shuss,” a self-taught artist’s works were on display.

Ray Hamilton, an African-American, was born in 1919 in Columbia on a farm. At the age of 12, he moved to New York City. Mr. Hamilton loved to draw and began creating his folk art creations in his 60s while living in an adult home for the mentally ill in Brooklyn. He began drawing in all sorts of media, and there was no shortage of subject matter. The subjects he chose to draw were quite varied, and numbers were of special interest to him.

So strong was his focus on art that, after a very severe stroke, he taught himself how to draw again.

In spite of all that Mr. Hamilton had to overcome, he became a major artist and a wonderfully inspiring example of never giving up, no matter what. Mr. Hamilton died in 1996, and I can only hope he knew how many people admired his works.

How the French say it

In French, there are several words for the phrases blah-blah-blah, yada-yada-yada, and so on and so forth.

You know what I mean when you are stuck, for what seems like forever, listening to a “blabber-mouth” (which is a great word, too) or when you don’t want to go into any more detail about the subject of your discourse.

In France they say “patati et patata.” Sneak that in to your conversation and enjoy the stunned look on someone’s face.

This story was originally published March 1, 2017 at 10:02 AM with the headline "Notes from Old Town: How a lamp got its glow and coffins get built."