Story Links:
The Last Rock
What are Story Stones?
This Story Stone lapidary art piece features Sodalite, Big Leaf Maple Burl wood, and the treasured cigar of an old rockhound. Four felt circles protect the wood and display surfaces from scuffing, and a brass plate is engraved with the title. The wood next to the cigar opens to reveal a scroll printed with the story of The Last Rock.
The Last Rock is a special story for many in the lapidary and rockhound community, and it speaks of something that, at some point, affects us all. The certainty of death and our limited time in this world is explored in this piece, telling of Dale Bertram's story of coming across this very special piece of Sodalite.
Size:
L x W: 22.2cm x 11.2cm (4.5" x 8.75")
Approx. Height: 12cm (4.75")
18.8cm (7.25") including cigar
Weight: 22.5oz (1.4lbs)
The Last Rock
The stone in this piece is “The Last Rock” but it is known as Sodalite. If thought of from the perspective of only its lapidary value, it’s just “somewhat” special. However, from another perspective, this is one of the most special stones you could ever come across.
I recently had the good fortune to stumble upon the cache of a rockhound who had passed away. I happened to take whatever stone polishing project I was working on to a local machine shop. Going there that day put me in the right place at the right time. In the course of shootin’ the bull with the boys at the machine shop, they mentioned to me that there was a guy who used to come around periodically with some beautifully detailed technical drawings of machines he was building to “work with rocks”. He sometimes needed things made that could only be made in a machine shop. I guess that is the same reason I was there that day.
They said that they didn’t know anything about rocks but they appreciated the infectious energy of a guy who wanted to design and build machines to do cool stuff. They liked being part of it. They hadn’t seen him for over a year and had heard that he had passed away. Right then and there, I knew I wasn’t leaving that shop without a name and a phone number. I called the guy’s wife from the parking lot of the machine shop. She was ready to move on!
When I got to her house, I found just what I had expected to find. I knew immediately that this guy was the real deal, a bonified Lapidarist. Most people walking into this guy’s shop would probably think, “my God, what a mess”. What I saw was the sanctuary of a man with a mind absolutely ablaze with ideas. The place was in chaos, beautiful glorious chaos. Buckets of rock everywhere, numerous obscure and one-of-a-kind machines in various stages of construction, a box full of cabochons, a thick coat of dust over everything, a few dried blood spots on the floor. I was standing in front of his work bench, just admiring what was on it, thinking about this man I never met. Everything was on it. Tools, drawings, various machine parts, nuts and bolts, bearings, arbors, belts, electrical switches, assorted widgets and gizmos, rocks. All just strewn about with no evidence of any organization or order.
On the edge of the front of the workbench was a single cigar in a closed glass tube. It was the only thing in that room, that house - probably that man’s life - that had been carefully placed in just exactly the right spot. It had its own special place, as if in anticipation of a celebration when the time was right. It said everything to me. I picked up the cigar, turned and showed it to his wife and said “you probably should keep this, as a memento”. She replied, with no facial expression, “I don’t smoke, you can have it.” I guess that pretty much summed up how she felt about his rock obsession so I said, “let’s go upstairs from the shop and talk business”.
On the way up from the basement she opened a door to the garage and, surprise surprise, it was full of lapidary stuff just like the basement. My eye went immediately to a nice 14” Lortone LSS-14 Panther diamond blade slab saw. The saw was reasonable clean and looked well maintained. It had a new motor on it, nice machine! I bought it on the spot. The decision to buy it took me about five seconds. As I was looking the saw over, I noticed that there was still a rock clamped in the vise. Some slabs had been cut from it and they were standing in a little pile. As I was driving home later it occurred to me that what I had been looking at was the very LAST rock that guy had ever cut.
I wondered what he was thinking when he finished that last cut and powered that machine down for the last time. I like to think that what may have been on his mind was that it was about time that he smoked that cigar that was downstairs on the work bench. He never made it. I found the cigar just as it had always been: in its little glass tube, unlit, undisturbed, in its little glass tube. If a man doesn’t finish the course with some things dreamed of but never accomplished, then he didn’t dream big enough.
This piece of Sodalite is that “last rock”. It is a one-of-a-kind and there will never be another quite like it. I made sure to get the best polish on it I could get for the man. I cut a few more slabs off of it as soon as I got his old saw seaworthy again. I kept the best slab for myself, or for whoever clears out my shop when I am the one who has cut his last rock.