“E” Is For Erica
I found this pencil in my father’s desk sometime between 1980-1988. Don’t recall specific details, but I was in search of a pencil, and his desk drawer was always the place to find one. What turned up was this Cross mechanical pencil, emblazoned with a large “E”. My Dad always had a collection of “professional” writing implements in his desk, gifts from myriad businesses that he worked with over the years, though I never did think to ask him what the E was for.
The pencil most certainly came home with me. I have had it on my desk ever since, and my kids know of it as “mom’s pencil”. It does not migrate. At all. It is basically an unwritten rule in our family, and the irony is not lost on me given I assisted in “migrating” the pencil from my dad.
Time passed, and the pencil languished unused for a long while. When I dug it out a few years back, I could not get the darn thing to work. The lead wouldn’t turn. The eraser was shot, and I couldn’t locate ones that would fit correctly. And the top would not nest onto the base. It was, in short, a mess. Where the heck would I take a mechanical pencil from the 1970s to be repaired?! I was stumped - not a single idea surfaced. I considered my clock repair guy, but eventually I googled the Cross Company to see what my options might be. Low and behold Cross has a lifetime warranty on any of their devices. Who knew?! I called a few times but was unable to reach a person via phone. I dutifully printed off the company’s repair form, added a check for $20 processing fee and mailed it off.
Seriously, modern society says, just order some pencils from Amazon. Would cost a lot less than $20 plus shipping. But truthfully this pencil has become more than just a desk item. It connects me to my father. He had a long, productive career, literally working until the week he died at 83. His work rewarded him with money, travel, and awards. He deserved what he earned but unfortunately, I had not taken much interest in his many projects. He was a lot. Very focused. Very driven. Caring but not at all emotionally aware. Inflexible in his routines (dear lord, the time I ate his last Dutch Apple yogurt for lunch one visit – when that was HIS lunch). But my father had a kind soul with a small boy at heart. He wanted to please, and in his childhood world, that meant capturing his father’s attention. Dad’s early elementary school in Bronxville felt Dad was “slow”, and my grandfather angrily moved his family to Litchfield CT where his 3 boys all attend the local private school. That school, The Forman School, is now famous for its work with dyslexic children.
The school diagnosed Dad as “dyslexic”, and that is actually how Dad met my mother. He was taking graduate classes at night at MIT while starting a career at General Electric in Boston. As he was incapable of spelling his way out of a paper bag, he hired a tutor to help him with his papers. Which was my mother. Dad ended up at IBM, and he and Mom raised 7 children. He started a second career in his mid 50s working at Carnegie Mellon’s Software Institute, which flew him all over the world. He received a Presidential Medal of Science in 2003. Somewhere along that trail Dad was gifted this Cross pencil, which I adopted.
After the sad pencil was mailed off the Cross, I received a quick email saying it was received. I would guess this was June of 2023. Sometime about December I called Cross, and finally got a young woman. I learned a heck of a lot more about the inner workings (or not so much) of the Cross company in NYC. She was new. Pencil was here - yeah, the 10K gold one. Wait. WHAT?! The pencil is actually SOLID GOLD. Gulp. She informed me, again TMI, that the old repair guy retired and they don’t have a new one, and that my old pencil needed a pro to fix it. She could mail it back unrepaired or they could hold on to it to see when someone can attend to it. Ok, I requested they keep it.
And then last week – end of August 2024, a small package shows up in the mail box. Not a clue what it could be so I check the return address. Cross in NYC! And thus my dad’s “E” pencil is good as new. Perky pink eraser (with a few extra thrown in). Lead works like a charm. I was using it this evening when I realized I really should polish the thing. Took out a polishing cloth and began wiping it. Suddenly I noticed very faint writing along the shank. My father’s initials “WSH” are engraved in lovely old script. I have had the thing for low on 40 years and I only now see he is here too.
I have yet to figure out what the “E” represented for my father. A company name? An organization? I literally have no idea – I suspect something in late 1970s or early 1980s. Which meant dad was still at IBM, which had him travelling all over the world, but basically for IBM. I can’t say he didn’t meet with another company – one that starts in an “E” – but I will never know. I have loved having it – with the mysterious “E”, the unexpected glitter of gold. And the faint shadow of my Dad resting under my finger.