General Electric
Antique Electric Fan
12" AOU Brass Bell Loop Handle
Oscillator Desk Fan
Oscillator Desk Fan
| Antique Electric Fan Specs | |
|---|---|
| Manufacturer | General Electric |
| Model | Type AOU Form AB1 Loop Handle |
| Size | 12" |
| Housing | Steel |
| Blade | Brass |
| Cage | Steel |
| Wings | 4 |
| Speeds | 3 |
| Switch | Sliding |
| Mode | Oscillating |
| Type | Desk |
| Year | 1922 |
Meet Isabelle, the 12" GE Brass Bell
I purchased this G.E. brass bell from an estate sale in Park Ridge, Illinois in September 2017. This was the first estate sale that I had ever attended. Little did I know the impact it would have on me.I didn't know what to expect, so I had asked a couple of my older pickleball friends who I thought might enjoy such an event. The advice was the same across-the-board, "if there is something that you want, get there early." I was careful not to ask another fan aficionado for a few reasons. Firstly, I was embarrassed by my lack of knowledge as to the inner workings of an estate sale. After all, estate sales have been going on since long before I was born and it seemed silly that I didn't know how they worked. Secondly, I didn't want to seem naive as to this particular model of fan, or have another fan devotee deem this model worthless. I think we can all admit that we have favorite brands, and other brands that will never command our consideration. I have read many opinions on the AFCA Forum about a fan being deemed insignificant because it is nothing but "pot-metal". Have you ever had a killjoy stomp on your fan-enthusiasm because they don't approve of your taste? Thirdly, I did not want the competition of another collector at the sale, in case this was deemed a worthy accolade.
Everyone should attend at least one estate sale in their lifetime. It gives insight as to what your life might look like after death. How your belongings are nothing more than objects. Your items having been neatly categorized on portable, folding tables that were hauled into your home by a company that your relative hired for the daunting task. The previous week, these same tables were in another's home to disperse their estate. Large signs are secured to the wall with packing tape to identify prices of bulk items such as clothing, or books. Other items, deemed retail-worthy by the estate company, are marked individually with stringed tags with descriptions such as, "Works!! $40". The estate company will never know, nor care, how many hours you struggled to make the item workable.
There are a few types of estate sale buyers. Firstly, there are the Professionals; these people wake in the early hours and have planned the succession of their day by the sales in their region. They arrive early - sometimes hours before the opening, to get their name on the top of the list of patrons that will be permitted first look at the sale. They talk to other Professionals who they have come to know over the years from the sales, and some know each other well enough to bum a smoke, or a light. To you, the estate owner, they are complete strangers that wildly enter your home, without wiping their feet on the welcome mat. They storm to the room that they think might contain the treasure they seek; elbowing other would-be competition in the process. The Professionals pillage through the belongings that you acquired over the years, even decades, until they find something to their liking. Once acquired, they take it to the check-out line, and often try to talk the estate company down in price. You, the estate owner, are just a cog in the machine of the estate industry.
Secondly, are the Casuals. The Casuals are the people that may arrive later in the day, or even the next day. Maybe they attend the third day of the sale when items are buy-one-get-one, or are a quarter of the originally ticketed price. Maybe they tagged along with a friend to the sale. Casuals wander around looking for things, something they don't particularly need, but maybe a $7 crock-pot, hammer, or picture will strike their bargain-fancy.
Thirdly, there are the Architects. The Architects aren't patrons of the estate's items, they come for the establishment. They want to see where you drank your coffee, shared a meal with friends, and laid your head at night. They run their fingers over the hand-carved wooden spiral staircases, open the old milkman's delivery doors, admire the arched plaster ceiling of the dining room, stand where the settler's house staff might have lived, and feel the draft of the fireplaces located in every room, before central heating was the norm. If the walls could talk, they could confess all of your secrets to the Architects, but the walls are disciplined and will never break your confidence.
I will admit that I have been all three types of estate buyers. Sometimes I act as a Professional when it is a fan related sale. Other times I am a Casual and this is just something to do on a crisp autumn morning. Finally, I have been the Architect that drools over the structure's old world craftsmanship.
I honestly didn't know much about the fan I was attempting to purchase; all I knew was that it was a 12" brass bell. It was still early on in my serious-collecting days and I was happy I was able to visually identify the fan, but I didn't know what features I should look for in it. Surprisingly the estate sale operators allowed me to plug the fan into the electrical outlet with the heckled warning, "you know what happens when you plug in old appliances!". I wasn't to be deterred; after all I had taken a day of vacation for the possibility of a peek at this fan. Besides, if it smoked, better it happen at their location than my house. Now, I know better. That regardless of the fan's operation, it was worth the parts to save other fans from a sinister fate.
I plugged it in and my eyes were bigger than my brain! It ran, oscillated, and the switch worked. I happily paid the price and loaded it and two other fans in my car. Once home, I was a little overwhelmed as I was still new to working on fans. I knew enough to clean the gearbox and change the oil wick. As my pupils returned to their normal size, the other little blemishes became visible. One of the former owners had rewired the fan and placed a gob of silicone on the base to secure the wire rather than using a proper rubber grommet. To disguise the silicone they painted it black to match the base. The original neck screw was missing, and in its place was a slotted hex head bolt that was protruding out a half an inch with a mangled head. The list of needed corrections ran on, but the motor was solid.
I have since re-wired the fan, felted the base, and performed routine maintenance. I brought it into work and a co-worker promptly asked what color I was going to paint this fan as she knew that I had painted a few fans from the 1960s. I shook my head and said, "I am not going to paint it". She looked befuddled and proceeded to tell me what colors I should paint it. I ignored all of her unsolicited advice, and looked at this fan as I had never looked at another. I respected the path that it took to land in my life ─ the cracked paint, the rusted cage, and the full patina.
She sits below my desk as my daily runner and is named, Isabelle, which was my maternal great-grandmother's name. Isabelle died in 1910 at 41 years of age due to complications of birthing her eighth child. I imagine her life was hectic with seven children, the last two being twins, one of which was my mother's father. This woman was deserving of an electric fan.
There are days that Isabelle is running before I walk into the office as my cube-mate has already called her to action. Other days she is shared when a co-worker returns from a humid summer lunchtime walk. Most days she sits as my companion, working relentlessly to keep me comfortable. I also have a blue, four-wing, 12" Vortalex from the 1950s that sits on a nearby cabinet to keep the accounting department cool. Regardless of your preferred fan era, sometimes you just need to sit back and appreciate the beauty of the old machines work, while you work.
Someday these fans will be part of my estate belongings. Perhaps they'll be laid out on plastic tables in a similar fashion as the estate sales that I have attended. Paper tags dangling from their cages that declare that they work, trying to entice a Professional or Casual buyer. Maybe these fans will escape the ill-fated estate table and will be scooped up by a relative, or another fan collector. Until my undetermined date with destiny, I shall appreciate these fans for all that they offer.