I have a jig saw that belonged to my father. I don’t know how old it is or the manufacturer. There is no brand name on it. It’s old enough that it has an aluminum case. There are no plastic parts anywhere! A fine tool it was working until the day before yesterday. While on the job, it simply quit.

I have decided to repair and revive this tool. You can completely disassemble it with just a screwdriver, no special tools, it’s not factory sealed up in some fashion. The motor uses carbon brushes, something you don’t see as much these days. It’s technology I understand. I haven’t checked the field windings or the armature as of yet. As long as they are still good, I’m certain I can bring her back to life.

It does need a new switch, the original one is broken, and a new cord wouldn’t hurt anything. Somewhere over time the ground prong on the plug was cut off. Yes, I know not a very safe thing to do but a common “fix” when you didn’t have a three-prong grounded receptacle. I remember when that was a relatively new thing. Well, I remember when cords where cloth covered too.

I disassembled it yesterday and begin the process of cleaning it all up. No parts show any visible damage. Electrical testing will be done today. I’ve decided to shine up that aluminum housing somewhat. I’m thinking of my dad and I’m sure he would be amused. Couldn’t tell you have many times he admonished me to take care of your tools!

You might think it is foolish, a waste of time to fix this old tool up. You can buy a new one for less than fifty bucks. The thing is it isn’t really about the tool. It’s about spending time with dad. That’s how I feel about that when I’m working on that or use some knowledge that he taught me. He’s at the workbench with me.

My dad wasn’t a man that spent much time “bonding” and spending time with his children. Dad was always working on something. Repairing and building things was his leisure time. It is what he enjoyed the most. I have a few tools of his and treasure them for the memories they hold. They are the essence of the man that was my dad.

I estimate that tool is at least forty years old. Made to last! Just like Dad, a lasting memory.