A Skillful Craftsman Who Loves Clocks

By Thomas P. Caldwell

Thomas Leete Zimmerman says his chisels are sharp enough to shave with, but that’s not sharp enough.

The statement sums up the philosophy of the Moultonborough cabinetmaker and clock repairer, who admits to being his own worst critic. Tom says his reputation is built on the last job out the door, so he wants each piece to be the best one yet.

“If it coughs, hiccups, or breathes out of rhythm, I want to be the first to hear about it,” he says.

Although the 76-year-old has taken down his “Thos. Leete: Cabinetmaker” sign and claims to have retired, he remains busy in his shop, working on a backlog of projects for customers who have placed pieces in his care.

“I’ve told customers it may take a year,” he says, “and some have been waiting longer than that.”

In addition to the number of repairs and restorations he has undertaken, there is the complexity of the job that determines how long it will take. Some of his projects have involved restoring clocks that are literally in pieces when he gets them.

Tom keeps photo books of his projects, showing what the pieces look like when they arrive, details of the work he has done, and pictures of the finished product. The photos give an indication of what is involved, but Tom will take the time to describe in detail how he filled nail holes with pegs from dowels he created from pine, or carved missing sections to match the original design of the piece.

“If I don’t have it, I’ll make it,” he says. “When there’s a missing piece, I’ll let the furniture do the talking: I’ll look at the features and work from them. I may add embellishments to ‘terminate’ it and say it’s finished.”

In building a clock case, Tom says he may replicate another case, but will never copy it.

“I put some of myself into it,” he explains. “I’m a real traditionalist. I’ll take a pile of stuff and rearrange it.”

Tom says he can repair a clock, start-to-finish, in a week if he does not run into issues, but depending upon the complexity, it can take three weeks to three years.

“Often, it’s a game of hide-and-seek to find parts.”

Influences

Tom was born in Reno, Nevada, at a time when the only way to get to Lake Tahoe was by horseback — and his grandmother operated a dude ranch. Later, his mother worked as a nurse at a summer camp on Lake Winnipesaukee, and Tom attended the camp, later becoming a counselor there. He has called Charlestown, Gilmanton, and Moultonborough his home, while also living for a time in Vermont.

“It took me nine months to set up so I could start producing,” he says of his move to Moultonborough in 2005, “and I’ve been busy ever since.”

He recalls that, as a child, he was “always taking things apart,” and when his mother mentioned that to a machinist across the way, the man advised, “Make him put it back together.” That is how his love of making repairs got its start. Tom recalls watching the machinist from the doorway — he was not allowed inside — and that was the start of his picking up “a little piece here and a little piece there” to learn how make repairs.

His initial training was in furniture and furniture repair, he says, and he gained experience in a high-production facility as well as learning to do custom work.

“I’ve met some really interesting people,” he recalls, “some of them considered icons.”

One such person was Andy Marlow, who designs and builds period furniture in the classical styles, creating museum-quality reproductions.

“I visited him three times,” Tom said. “It was like being in the presence of God.”

It was a craftsman in Peterborough who first influenced him — a man whose name is now forgotten. Tom recalls stopping in to see the man at work, and the craftsman recognized Tom’s passion to learn. The man shared his knowledge of how to give life to a project.

has built and repaired furniture, but said he always had a fascination for clocks as well. He started by building cases for clockworks, but eventually decided he wanted to learn about the works themselves. He picked up information from the clockmakers who hired him to build the cases and later would be able to share his knowledge with them.

He is a member of the National Association of Watch and Clock Collectors, Inc., an organization founded in 1943 by members of the Horological Society of New York and the Philadelphia Watchmakers’ Guild. His shop has copies of magazines and pamphlets describing the various clocks from around the world, some of which have examples in his workshop.

He has worked on beehive candlestick clocks — an American style dating back to around 1840 — as well as Russian, Japanese, French, Viennese, German, and other countries’ clocks.

“I’m trying to get one from Brazil,” Tom says.

He says there were a lot of experiments in American clocks between 1830 and 1860, comparing it to the way people experiment with computers today. He said the period and the style are interrelated, so one has to understand the economics and the culture of the period.

“The style reflects that,” he says.

When trying to repair or pattern a clock after one of those designs, Tom says, “It doesn’t have to be perfect, but it has to be correct.”

He says, “I get excited about everything, but especially about cuckoo clocks.” One wall of his display room showcases the various types of cuckoo clocks he has collected or repaired.

Tom also has built grandfather clocks, banjo clocks, flat-tops, and Regulators, with all the variations they enjoy. Hanging gingerbreads are uncommon, but he has made a “phantom” version of one. He describes phantoms as “one that might have been made but never was” — a clock that is consistent with the style.

Clocks he has worked on have gone throughout the Northeast and mid-Atlantic states, as well as to England and Japan.

“I try to treat people fairly,” Tom says in explaining why his customers have returned and told others about his work.

He says he has worked on 17 cuckoo clocks in two months, some of them in rough shape but all of them with sentimental value.

“I enjoy working on them and seeing them come back,” he says of the clocks.

One of the more memorable clocks that Tom has worked on is one that Elisha Gray had purchased in Switzerland in 1885. Gray and Alexander Graham Bell both claimed to have invented the telephone, but Bell beat Gray to the patent office. Bell’s phone used the liquid transmitter that Gray had invented.

“The clock had penciled information about its history,” Tom said. “It becomes meaningful to have that information.” 

Those Chisels

Tom uses modern tools, but says the final work has to be done by hand. He prides himself on the detail of his work, with intricate designs and beveled edges for emphasis. To handle that level of detail, he needs sharp, good-quality chisels.

His shop has several drawers of chisels, including those once belonging to his friend and fellow cabinetmaker Dick Steele, who purchased them from the estate of their original owner, Bertie Bemis. Bertie, according to Tom, was a curmudgeon who wore a bowler, but his chisels were first-rate with handles that Bertie himself designed.

“They are English, hand-forged with Sheffield steel,” Tom says.

Dick Steele had apprenticed with Swedish cabinetmakers, and he shared his knowledge with Tom — knowledge that included the importance of good tools.

“He occasionally let me borrow his carving tools,” Tom recalls. “It allowed me to learn how to carve.”

Tom also has Shaker chisels, noting that the Shakers did not hesitate to buy the best-quality tools.

His love of hand tools matches his love of artful design. He notes that, before 1840, furniture was hand-made. The advent of industrial equipment brought machine-made furniture that was heavy and austere. He contrasts that with the gold-gilded French furniture that used the gold to highlight the detailed carving work.

Customers appreciate the quality of Tom’s work, and many of them are repeat customers. Although he has officially retired, Tom says he will still take care of his old customers.