HINGED (2025-16)

Three little stories about hinges:

A HINGE IS A JOINT THAT HOLDS TWO PIECES OF SOMETHING TOGETHER WHILE ALLOWING ONE PIECE TO MOVE IN A SWINGING MOTION.

1. I recently watched a short film about a little white clapboard church in Keystone, Nebraska. A tiny church in a tiny village near Lake McConaughey. The town was established near the turn of the last century, when farmland was new and fertile. A cluster of teenage girls in the newly established community decided their town needed a church. The people of Keystone were not all followers of the same denominations, about half were Catholic and half were Protestant. So, the girls suggested they build a church that could house both. With the guidance of Mrs. Paxton, their youth leader, they raised several hundred dollars to get the thing started, holding bake sales, bazaars and an oyster dinner. The Paxton family, ranchers in the community, kicked in the rest. A famous architect designed it. The Pope sent a special dispensation from Rome for a Catholic church to be housed with a Protestant congregation. The little church opened in 1908 with a big dedication ceremony. The church had a pump organ and pulpits on either end, one Catholic, one Protestant. Because the building was small, Mrs. Paxton, who was well travelled, suggested they install pews that had backs on hinges, similar to the cable cars of San Francisco. Because cable cars could not turn around, they flipped the backs of the seats to face opposite directions, depending on which way the car was going. The Catholics had their service on Sunday mornings facing their altar, and then they flipped the pew on their hinges to face the Protestant altar for their neighbors’ services in the afternoon.

2. My sister Sue is lending us a centuries old bench table which sits in our family room. Its a long term lend for which I am grateful, because we use that bench constantly. Guitar students sit in it every week. Then on Sundays we pull it out from the wall and rotate the back to become a tabletop. Its an ingenious piece of furniture designed to make good use of small spaces in pioneer cabins. We easily seat eight people at the bench table. I used to have a smaller one, but Sue's is better suited for our Sunday crowds. It's one of my favorite pieces of all time. Thanks, Sue.

3. The hinge on our back gate is broken. When we bought this lot and designed our house we recognized that the developer had not created any sort of passageway between our neighborhood and Somerset Hollow neighborhood behind us. While we fenced the rest of the yard to keep our dog in, we added a gate for access to the Hollow. It has become a thoroughfare for the neighbors. The school bus even stops behind our house to gather the kids from our neighborhood. People pass through our yard so often I have developed anxiety about running over someone as I back out of my garage. Dave and I are at odds about that gate. He likes to provide access for everyone. I love people, but also appreciate having a little privacy. If I want my garage to be a messy creative space I don't necessarily want everyone to know about it. And when we decide to have a family BBQ out in the driveway of the front yard, I'm shocked by people who will pass through walking their dogs, having to weave through us as we're eating or visiting. Plus I worry about liability.

One day a rogue deer, with a hefty rack of antlers on his head, was chased by a neighbor's dog down our driveway. The gate was closed, and the deer's antlers got stuck in between the iron rungs. The poor beast ripped the gate from its hinges and began flailing in our yard with a giant black fence gate on his head. The whole episode is a story for another time. But that gate has not yet had its hinges repaired. It will swing open, but won't spring back to close it. That open gate makes it too easy for bikes and motorcycles to come whizzing down our driveway and onto the road behind us. 

When we were in Ireland last year I saw this metal sign and purchased it on the spot. It's cast iron and quite heavy. I had to hand carry it through the various airports and shuttles, but it was worth it to me. As soon as we get the hinge fixed, I'll put the sign on the gate. Meanwhile, I lock that gate at least one day every couple years to preserve our ownership of this space. I love people, and surely love my neighbors, but sometimes those missing springs on the hinges leave me unhinged.

Pondering the definition of hinge; the concept that one object is stable and the hinge keeps another object connected while it shifts position, I thought of my Savior, Jesus Christ, becoming the hinge for me. God the Father: the unmovable point. My Savior is the patient hinge. And I am the one constantly swinging back and forth. Thank you, Jesus, for keeping me connected.