Instantly, the memories started coming back. That was MY soldering iron that I bought with my own money… at around the age of 12 or 13. It was not the first soldering iron that I ever owned… certainly not the first soldering iron that I had ever used either.
My first experiences with soldering were in third or fourth grade. I was about 10 years old. I had exceptional teachers by then who accommodated my uniqueness and did what they could to bring out my gifts and talents and even attempted to bring other students into my world of technology. I was allowed special circumstances in exchange for getting better grades. One of these was when the husband of one of the teachers at our very small school (not the husband of one of my teachers though) had volunteered to come to the school and spend his time and donated his materials to help me build a crystal radio from scratch. He also taught me how to solder and he taught me the resistor color code, which I memorized and never forgot. This mentor, whom I will always be thankful for though I don't even remember his name, had changed the course of a young child's life and maybe he didn't even realize it.
I got my own soldering iron when I was 11 years old. It was quite different in quality and design as the one pictured though. I received the soldering iron as a gift, conditionally. I was to use it responsibly - which meant that I was to handle it carefully and use it ONLY for the purposes intended and to NEVER leave it plugged in unattended. I held to my end of the deal. This was yet another thing that changed the way I did things and helped me channel my passions more effectively. I used that soldering iron for many years, basically until it had worn out. I used it for soldering components in projects, but I also used it for desoldering electronic components of electronic circuit boards from old radios and other devices so that I could use the parts for my own creations. I experimented with electronics every day. It was my passion!
The soldering iron pictured above has yet another backstory.
There were two "general stores" in the neighborhood where I grew up. We were allowed to go to one of the stores, but the other was off limits because it was in Marietta. Anyone who is familiar with Marietta, knows that it is considered a dangerous neighborhood. I had to learn this the hard way on several occasions, but I will save those events for other chapters. Suffice it to say that we were not allowed to go to Baker's Store… in Marietta. But we did anyway.
One of the reasons why we liked going to Baker's was that they sold things that the other general store did not sell, like nails and tools. There was a tool rack, or table that sold cheap tools… I mean cheap tools. This predated the quintessential "Dollar Store" but it was simply it's own store on a single table. Everything on that particular table was a dollar (or something close to a dollar). I bought lots of tools from that table. They were all junk. One of the claws on a claw hammer that I bought broke off when I was trying to use it to pry or hit something. It was made out of cast iron. There was another tool I thought was cool. It was a shovel that had a multitude of tools built into it. The problem was that when I went to dig with it, it bent. I lost that shovel, only to unbury the rusted remains many years later (after we had moved back to the property with my own wife and children) when we were digging for a garden. That was found in the same general area where I had built my own "fort" - which was yet another passion of mine as a youth… and this affords yet another chapter in my book(s).
Then there was the soldering iron. I bought this piece of junk when my original soldering iron started failing. I didn't like this one. It got very hot (so hot you could see it glowing red), which is not a good thing when you are working with delicate electronics. It was also unwieldy, which scared me. I had gotten burned numerous times already by my first soldering iron and quickly recovered from the surface burns, but I feared that I would get a serious burn from this soldering iron. I only used this one in pinch (in other words, when I couldn't find a better one in my messy room).
Somehow, this tool ended up in my dad's hands… in his shop filled with a seemingly limitless supply of tools. More than likely, I was irresponsible with this tool and got it confiscated. I probably neglected to put it away… or maybe I just abandoned it because I didn't like it. In either case, I ended up with it. I am not sentimental enough to keep it, but I am sentimental enough to write the story behind it. So today, likely within minutes of finishing this story, I will destroy this soldering iron. It is in the queue for recycling. The cord alone could fetch a few cents worth of copper… which is about all this tool was ever worth.
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