Happy Sewing Memories on the Old Singer Sewing Machine

My earliest sewing memories go back to my grandmother’s home in rural Oklahoma on a farm outside of Claremore. Grandma had an old Singer treadle sewing machine and I have some dear memories of it. I'm not sure, but I believe it was a model from the 1920's. It was deep black and it had a beautiful dark wood cabinet with little drawers full of what appeared to me to be ancient threads, ribbons, and little scraps of equally ancient fabric.

This singer sewing machine sat in the parlor in front of a big window so Grandma could have the best light during the day. Personally, I think grandpa (with help) got it through the door, sat it down and refused to move it anywhere else. Have you tried to lift one of these? They’re really heavy! If the art print shown here (by artist Lorraine Brewer) had a rocking chair in the right corner, it could be the same room.

It was this machine on which my mother learned to sew, skillfully working that treadle! Eventually, grandpa had electricity hooked up to the farm and an electric motor was attached. For grandma and mom, a flip of a switch took their Singer from old fashioned to dream machine.

My mother logged thousands of hours on that sewing machine making clothes and items for the house. Ready made (store-bought) “anything” was a luxury few could afford, especially during the Depression. Besides, on the farm, home made was the norm regardless of what was happening to the country.

For mom, that sewing machine was a necessity. For me, it was a toy and a learning tool. Mom showed me how to bypass the motor to use the foot treadle; however, before they would let me actually use fabric, I had to practice sewing on sheets of paper from grandma’s writing tablet. It took me a while to get the hang of keeping the treadle going while guiding the paper this way and that under the needle. I’m sure mom and grandma did a lot of silent laughing when standing behind me as they added my adventures on it to their many sewing memories associated with that old machine.

It was and still is a wonderful piece of their personal history. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if the old machine still works though we haven't opened the cabinet in years. Eventually, when the time comes, I will move it from mom’s home to mine. Like her, I will lovingly display the old machine not because of any monetary worth it might have but because of the priceless memories it will bring me of the women in my life who once sewed on it.

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