The Tool Man of Haddonfield

'This is a raisin seeder," says Don Wallace, a.k.a. the Tool Man.

"The seeds in raisins used to be bigger than they are now, and this" - a hand-cranked kitchen press made of cast iron - "would squeeze them out for you."

Who knew?

The Tool Man did, and still does. He donated his 3,000-piece collection of antique implements to the Historical Society of Haddonfield. And he's giving me a personal tour.

"Don Wallace took the basement of Greenfield Hall, our headquarters, and turned it into a very magical place," society president Carol Smith says. "It was a labor of love."

With help from other volunteers, Wallace curated and created displays of tools and simple devices with which homemakers, shoemakers, mechanics, medical professionals, tinsmiths, blacksmiths, farmers, and others got their work done in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

Some of these implements - such as lasts, rasps, hammers, and other gear belonging to George W. Day, known as "the lefthanded cobbler of Haddonfield" - were used locally.

"The collection encapsulates what Haddonfield used to be: a little town in the middle of an agrarian community," Smith says.

"It tells us what life was like in a society that reused and repaired things, instead of throwing them away."

The objects shed light on "average people's lives and what they did with their time," society librarian and archivist Dana Dorman says. "It's a wonderful collection."

A retired salesman of fine paper and graphic arts supplies, Wallace, 83, became the society's curator of tools after donating his collection to it 20 years ago, more than doubling its existing trove. He stepped down in 2015.

I meet him and Caryl, his wife of 62 years and the mother of their three grown children (they also have seven grandchildren and two great-grandchildren), at Greenfield Hall.

The magnificent Kings Highway landmark contains furniture, pottery, textiles, and other objects from the society's collections, including the mini-museum of tools in the basement.

"It's good to see it," says the Tool Man, who had two strokes in 2015 and now uses a cane. "I'm enjoying the memories it brings back."

Among them: The good times he and his wife have spent with others who share his fascination with hand tools.

"It was a big part of our lives," Caryl, 83, says.

The Haddonfield couple regularly attended CRAFTS (Collectors of Rare and Familiar Tools Society) meetings and other events, making friends "with people from all walks of life," she says, adding, "I wasn't too interested in tools at first. But I learned a lot. And I loved it."

Her husband got interested in tools about 25 years ago, after becoming friends with local collector Carl Bopp.

"I was interested in old, obsolete" implements of all sorts, Wallace says. "I didn't specialize. I bought a lot of them at the Berlin Farmers Market."

In the pre-Google era, he read books to educate himself about vintage tools or to figure out what he had just bought. He says he plans to donate his tool research library to the society as well.

Wallace leads me through a neatly labeled, well-lit labyrinth of scythes, pitchforks, hammers, vise grips, and grinders (there's a grindstone, too).

Leather-tanning, barrel-making, and even undertaking tools have been arranged on the walls and in themed displays; he knows the geography of the place by heart.

"Here's something that's fantastic," Wallace says, selecting a slightly curved wand of wood about 12 inches long from a display of blacksmith's tools.

"It's a sweat-swiper, for horses," he explains.

The asphalt layer's hammer, the carriage maker's wrench, the cow-horn cutter, and the remarkable hand-cranked food processor Wallace shows me are, like the sweat-swiper, the technological artifacts of a far more labor-intensive era.

Many of these tools are heavy, awkward, and potentially dangerous to the user. They have no source of power other than the user's mind and muscle.

And not one of them can send a text message or recommend a restaurant.

But they helped build a way of life, which those of us who've had it easy can better appreciate thanks to the hard work of Don Wallace. The Tool Man.

kriordan@phillynews.com

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