Someone had asked about this post, I didn't see anybody follow it up, so I'm resending...
kyle
-----Original Message-----
From: Kyle Cassidy
Sent: Monday, October 18, 2004 1:46 PM
To: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Subject: well, my stove is fixed....
Kirk Wattles recommended Frank LeVeque from Allbrands to fix my vintage stove (610-449-4920). Now that he's fixed my stove, I can recommend him as well. He is quite a character. He looked at my stove and wistled "You weren't kidding, vintage. _Antique_ heh." Then, for the next two hours he talked to the stove non-stop. "Oh, whatta ya doin there boy? Think you can beat me?! I like a challenge! Haha! Now I've got you!" He was all over the place while he was taking it apart; it looked like he was wrestling an allegator. I figured he was going to look at stuff and come back a week later -- nope, not Frank. He'd look up from the floor, and hold up some burnt bit or other and say "look at this, this here's your problem, it's a type-9 widget, it's snapped in half. Know what the problem with this is, of course, this stove here was made in 1944 by Roper (they made it for Kennmore you know, then GE took over in 1962) and Roper went out of business 16 years ago. I doubt if they'd have this part 16 years ago anyway. No, the only place to get a replacement is on the side of the road, gotta wait for someone to throw one of these babies out." "Does that happen often?" I asked. "Never seen one of these before in my life. So I'd say, no." What do you do when you can't get a replacement part? Why, you make a new one of course. He fabricated the missing parts on the spot. Which was bewildering, because he only had four tools: a screwdriver, a pair of plyers, a volt meter, and a flashlight, and since it was a gas stove, the volt meter was useless. He'd be kneeling on the floor, hunched over the stove door, swearing at it, pounding on his screwdriver with his plyers, looking up to tell me some exciting tidbit or other about oven insulation or thermostatic regulators. I'd ask if he wanted a hammer, he always said no and went back to work. He removed the guts of my stove and laid them out before me like a surgeon, the whole time, his phone would ring every ten minutes and he'd yell at it "Leave a message! Can't you see I'm busy!" then he bent and twisted, performing some weird alchemy, all the while muttering to the stove like an auctioneer. As he put the pieces back, one by one, they worked. It was a little miraculous.
Three cheers for frank.
kyle
