Watch story thread

Thirty years or so ago, I was at an NAWCC mart in Portland, Ore. Things have changed a bit since those days, and the NAWCC marts are generally a lot smaller today that they were back then. The internet has pretty well looked after that! If there was a “hot” item or two in the room back then, you had to be prepared, and act quickly. Like the time a friend was at an NAWCC mart, and he spotted Hamilton 992B, serial number TWO! The second one made! He sat on his pocket book! He went back later to buy it, and the vendor was gone! For all the years I have attended these marts in the Pacific North West, our Canadian dollar has generally been discounted, so I have always tended to buy cautiously, and to look for “sleepers”.

This watch, I acquired at one of those marts, in Portland. I had scoped out most of the huge mart room, and was still sitting on my Canadian bankroll when I happened upon the table of a dealer who only had a few watches. One particular watch caught my eye because of its condition, the price, and the name on the dial. It was D R Dingwall, Limited. There was no place name. Well, success is preparation met with opportunity. Nobody else in the room knew the Dingwall name, and thus was disinclined to check out the watch to see what it was. I recognized the name immediately. Score one for me!

D R Dingwall was a Winnipeg, Manitoba, manufacturing jeweller who had a factory, and two retail stores in Winnipeg. In his factory he had a watch repair shop that employed many watchmakers, and a contingent of goldsmiths producing jewellery for his stores. Years ago, I met a watchmaker who had trained at Dingwall, and he indicated the shop had about 20 watchmakers. Dingwall was a railroad watch inspector, and Winnipeg was a major divisional point for the railroads at the time. Dingwall was a major supplier of railroad standard watches to those employed by the railroads. I had the advantage when I spied that watch. Canadian, railroad standard pocket watch collector, and I like Canadian private label watches. I knew the Dingwall name the moment I spied it! I asked to look at the watch. This one is in a “swing ring” case, so it is not simply a matter of unscrewing the case back to view the movement. I opened it up to spy one of the nicest Hamilton 19-jewel, grade 944 watches I had ever seen. And the price was only $250.00, I jumped on that like a duck on a June bug. There was another watch right beside this one that I bought as well, but that is a topic for another instalment!

As time went on, railroad time standards changed, and the era of the private label railroad standard watch came to an end. While private label dials on railroad standard watches had been popular, when the standard changed, railroad standard watches had to have the actual watch manufacturer’s name on the dial. Except for the Ball Watch Co. While Ball didn’t make watches, they finished and adjusted watches made for them by numerous watch manufacturers.

In 1933, in the depths of the Great Depression, Dingwall sold out to the Henry Birks and Sons chain, thereafter called Birks Dingwall.

Now the watch:

Hamilton, 18-size, grade 944, 19 ruby jewels, adjusted to 5 positions, lever set, double roller, full plate, jewelled motor barrel arbor, patent Goldthwaite regulator, double-sunk vitreous enamel, 24-hour dial, Canadian made gold filled case, made circa 1906. Made by the Hamilton Watch Co. of Lancaster, P A. This was an era before watch manufacturers over-used the term “limited edition”. There were only 6,590 grade 944 Hamilton’s made. Its brother, the Hamilton grade 940 was probably the most popular 18-size railroad standard pocket watch produced by Hamilton, but I like the 944. If this watch had been fitted with a Hamilton marked dial rather than the name of a Canadian retailer, it would have been snagged long before I got to it.

As mentioned in my post from Saturday (28th), I bought two watches from the same dealer, in Portland, Ore., back about 30 years ago. This one is a private label Hamilton grade 940, dial marked for G M Rioch, Kenora, Ont. Prior to 1905, Kenora was known as Rat Portage. In 1905, Rat Portage, Keewatin, and Norman, Ontario, merged to become Kenora. That is Keewatin, Norman. Kenora is close to the Manitoba border, about 126 miles east of Winnipeg. For a time, there was a tussle between Manitoba and Ontario governments, claiming Kenora for their own. It is in Ontario. This is another instance where the Canadian private label dial meant many who looked at it, dismissed it, and it was sitting there, waiting for me. The 940 grade Hamilton was much more popular that the 944 (see my previous post). There were 210,596 of the grade 940 produced. The watch:

Hamilton grade 940, 18-size, 21 ruby jewels, Goldthwaite patent regulator, double roller, lever set, going barrel, made 1907, adjusted 5 positions, railroad approved. Double sunk 24-hour, vitreous enamel dial, marked G M Rioch, Kenora, Ontario.

This business was still listed in Kenora, when I bought the watch. I wrote a letter to the business to try to learn a bit about it. Never got a reply.

With this post, I’ll take a few days off to see if any others wish to see this thread continue. Jeepers, it’s lonely!😀

Okay! Okay! I know I said I was going to rest my index finger for a few days, but I have a watch story that needs to be told. And forgive me for posting a second story, today.

About ten years ago, I participated in an appraisal clinic in a local mall. A couple brought a pocket watch that they had quite a bit of family history on, but they wanted to find out about the watch. This story could involve you for the rest of the day, so I’ll abbreviate it. As I got to know these folks, they provided me with a lot of archival material, and I wrote an article for the NAWCC Bulletin, about 10 years ago.

The woman’s great uncle, William Jolliffe was 28-years old, and had taken a job as a locomotive engineer out of Revelstoke, B C, in about 1910. He was working for the Canadian Pacific Railway. On a December night in 1912, he took a mixed freight train west on the CPR main line. As he approached Tappen Siding (west of Salmon Arm, British Columbia), he was approaching a long up hill climb. At the top of that hill was Notch Hill siding, and there was an east bound train about to start down the grade. The dispatcher at Revelstoke (east of Salmon Arm) telegraphed the operator at Notch Hill to hold the east bound train so as to enable Jolliffe to maintain speed as he approached the long up hill grade. Reports don’t indicate just why the east bound train didn’t stop! The two trains met at Tappen Siding, and Jolliffe was killed. There was about a 24-hour delay as crews cleaned up the wreckage. A passenger train that had originally departed from Montreal was full of pissed off passengers who couldn’t care less about the delay.

Jolliffe’s pocket watch was retrieved from his body and given to his mother at his funeral, along with several other artifacts from the locomotive. This is his watch.

It is a Keystone Howard series 5, 16-size, 19-jewel railroad grade. Notice the dent on the bezel at the 11 position.

That dial is known as a “marginal minutes” dial. It is often called a “Montgomery” dial, but the Montgomery dial has the numeral 6 in the seconds bit. And, yes, the watch is still with the family. The picture above was taken when I prepared the article I wrote for the NAWCC Bulletin. I have several Howard series 5 models, two just like the subject watch. Records don’t exist re: the fate of the crew on the east bound train outside of CP archives in Montreal. But when I was researching the article, I got a very terse reply to the letter that I wrote them, that such information would not be made available. There was a hobo riding Jolliffe’s train. He survived with a broken ankle.

Stories! We got stories! Here’s another one.

More years ago than I recall, Mrs. Canuck asked me if I was going to have a look at a local auction house preview. She gave me a brief description of a watch on offer, and I was interested. I attended the auction, and ended up with the watch. For some background.

My late father was born in 1900. His mother was a widow. In about 1910, her sons and she were living on a homestead in east central Alberta. His mother was a hidebound, stern disciplinarian. One day in about 1916, she came after him with a broom. He went under a bed, up the other side, and out a window, and he was gone. He spent the next few years working on the farms of his aunts and uncles, and in the fall, he would “ride the rods” (hitch a ride on a freight train), and go to Ontario where he would work in forestry. His mother arranged an apprenticeship for him, with a jeweller/watchmaker in a nearby town. He started there in about 1920, learning the trade for no salary. The jeweller gave him room and board, and when he needed money, he’d work on farms in the area, or work for the Ford dealer in town. After four years, he thought he was good enough to earn a salary, but the jeweller wouldn’t pay him. So he left, moved to Saskatoon (Saskatchewan), bought a suit, and canvassed the local jewellers. He ended up getting a job as a watchmaker, with jeweller, Charlie Murphy. The watch.

The reason my wife thought I would be interested in the watch was twofold. It is an unusual Art Deco design, and the dial name is Murphy’s, Saskatoon! I would guess it’s age to be mid to late 1920s when my father worked there! He maybe even handled it, or even sold it.

It is a 15-jewel, private label movement, made by Omega. The case is gold filled. The dial is vitreous enamel.

Here is a BUMP, and my daily submission to this thread.

A long time ago (30+ years), a hole-in-the-wall one man shop/watchmaker either retired, or died. I don’t remember which. Some time later, I got a call from his son who had inherited the contents of his shop. I bought a bunch of stuff. Fast forward to about 20 years ago, I get a call from the son on a Tuesday. He has a very “valuable” watch he hopes I’ll be interested in. He brings a garden variety Hamilton 927 (a hunter cased model), in an incorrect open faced case of nickel silver. Commonly called a “sidewinder”. I sorted him out on his “valuable” watch, and made him an offer. Needless to say, he protested at the size of my offer, but finally agreed.

On Friday of that week, I come home from work, and check the morning paper. I see a familiar name in the paper, reporting the deaths of two people, discovered in their rural home, on the Thursday! Without going into sordid detail, it wasn’t carbon monoxide, fire, lightning, car accident, actions of someone from outside the home, or any other cataclysmic event that brought their demise. I’ll leave you to use your imagination.

Some years later, I bought an 18-size Waltham, open faced movement in a hunter case. Don’t see a lot of those. Quick as a flash, the Hamilton 927 movement went into the hunter case, and the Waltham went into the case the Hamilton came in. A bit of a downer, all in all, but I’ll make my next submission a happier one. The watch:

Hamilton 927, 18-size, 17-jewels in gold jewel settings, lever set, Goldthwaite patent regulator, adjusted to position, no. Adjusted to temperature, yes. One of 50,182 produced. Not railroad grade or railroad approved. Vitreous enamel, single-sunk 12-hour dial.

Tuesday. Today’s submission involves two watches.

This goes back about 15-years, or so. I received a phone call from a fellow who had inherited his mother’s grandfather clock which needed setting up after it was moved. While I was there, he showed me a pocket watch that he had also inherited. It was a Waltham Vanguard, 16-size, 23-jewel movement, lever set, Lossier inner terminal curve hairspring, 24-hour double-sunk vitreous enamel dial, running, and in nice shape. BUT, the movement was in a Ball 20th Century gold filled case with patented stirrup bow. This case should have had a 16-size Ball ORRS, 23-jewel movement in it! This would have been basically a Hamilton 950 movement, for Ball, in that case. Plus, the case back had been garishly hand engraved with the name of a departed family member. It was a bit of a Franken watch. I was not really interested in it, but I asked him to let me “borrow” it, and show it around to see if there might be a buyer for it. No joy! So after a year or two, I got another call regarding his clock. I went, and while adjusting it, the subject f the watch came up. I told him that I hadn’t found anyone interested in it, but I made him an offer of $250.00 which he accepted. I paid him.

Meantime, I had a watch in my collection that was likewise a Franken watch. It was a Ball, grade 999, 16-size, 21-jewel railroad movement (basically a Hamilton 992 movement for Ball), 24-hour single sunk vitreous enamel dial marked Ball ORRS (Official Railroad Standard). BUT, the movement was in a case that belonged on a Waltham Vanguard!

Within an hour after arriving back home, the Ball 21-jewel grade 999 Hamilton movement was switched into the Ball 20th century case, and the Waltham Vanguard 23-jewel movement was in the Waltham case that had contained the Ball movement.



And this is a crummy file photo of the Waltham case that had the Ball grade 999 movement in it. I am certain this watch has become co-mingled into my friend’s collection after we did an exhibit a while back. I’ll replace this photo as soon as I sort this matter out.

Wednesday. Time for another instalment. This subject watch has appeared on the Omega board before, but the complete story hadn’t been told. This is a watch that took its place in my collection about 5 years ago, and the watch is about 55 years old. So the story as it evolved between when it was made, and about 5 years ago, I can only speculate. I was faintly aware of the watch for over 40 years, before I restored it to working order. I suspect it had been taken to my late father for repair, but when the owner was quoted a price for conditioning plus parts, he likely told my father he could keep it. My father stashed the bits in the tin can, and there it sat for probably 40 to 45 years.

My late father was a jeweller/watchmaker who ran his own business here, from 1946 until he closed it in 1974. But he had been involved in the repair of watches for about 56 years at the time of his death. I inherited the residue from his business when he died. This residue involved benches, tools, instruments, cleaning machines, and a 50 + year accumulation of parts, project watches, donor watches, etc. etc. Among the parts. I inherited was a steel lozenge (cough drop) tin that had a plastic Dymo label on it. There was one word. OMEGA. I knew there were parts from about 3 or 4 Omega bumper automatics in that tin, but I had never paid much attention to the contents.

About 5 years ago, I got a call from a brother in the watch repair trade, enquiring as to whether I had a centre wheel for a centre sweep second model Omega bumper automatic. I did. I sold it to him. But as I foraged in that tin, I happened upon the dial you see on the watch. By then Haunting this message board had made me more and more aware of the interest in Omega bumper automatic watches, and I was aware that the date at 6 models were particularly prized. So when the opportunity came to forage in that tin again, lo and behold, what do I find. A complete Omega calibre 355 bumper automatic, albeit in pieces. The dial you see was also there. There was minor rust damage on some of the steel components behind the dial, but they cleaned up nicely with a fibre glass brush. One major component was missing. A CASE!

I gathered all the parts and assembled them into a complete movement, dial, and hands. In response to a post on the message board showing an Omega date at 6 model, I posted a picture of this one (no case), and mentioned that I needed a case for it. It was only a matter of weeks before a member of this message board in Madrid, Spain, (thank you Tritium) sent me a PM. He told me he had a spare case. We made a deal, I sent him a money order, and the case was mine.

First chance I had, I stripped the watch and conditioned it, ordered a new Omega crown for it, and voila! My Omega. I love it, though it is part of a rotation, so is seldom worn though it performs flawlessly..