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Tool Chest Upgrades
Tool Chest Upgrades
When I was hired on full time with my current employer in 2011, my parents bought me a wooden "machinest style" tool chest to keep and organize my growing collection of woodworking tools. The chest was solidly made, attractive, and much nicer than the red plastic rectangular tools box I had been using, where tools co-mingled in a removable tray, or sat in a heap on the bottom of the box. Acquiring nicer and more high-precision tools necessitated a safer and gentler way to store and organize them, and this tool chest was perfect. The sliding shallow drawers allowed for tools to be laid out deliberately, spaced so they weren't rolling around on top of one another risking damage, and organized for convienence.
Tool chests like this have been used by craftsmen and machinests for a long time, and there are companies that produce very fine and heavy wooden chests from beautiful woods that stack and interact with other modules to make remarkable and highly practical storage and organization systems. My chest is not one of these, but a mass-produced and comparatively inexpensive chest, pictured here in a sale add:
When I was hired on full time with my current employer in 2011, my parents bought me a wooden "machinest style" tool chest to keep and organize my growing collection of woodworking tools. The chest was solidly made, attractive, and much nicer than the red plastic rectangular tools box I had been using, where tools co-mingled in a removable tray, or sat in a heap on the bottom of the box. Acquiring nicer and more high-precision tools necessitated a safer and gentler way to store and organize them, and this tool chest was perfect. The sliding shallow drawers allowed for tools to be laid out deliberately, spaced so they weren't rolling around on top of one another risking damage, and organized for convienence.
Tool chests like this have been used by craftsmen and machinests for a long time, and there are companies that produce very fine and heavy wooden chests from beautiful woods that stack and interact with other modules to make remarkable and highly practical storage and organization systems. My chest is not one of these, but a mass-produced and comparatively inexpensive chest, pictured here in a sale add:
Click picture for more detail
Click picture for more detail
It is not exquisitely crafted, the drawers and slides are not perfectly centered and leveled, the wood selection leaves something to be desired, and there are a few other idiosyncrasies that become apparent after "living" with the tool chest for a while. All this being said, however, it is very practical, solid, and portable, all aspects I was really looking for and still desire. A custom made tool chest would be wonderful to have some day, but this war horse has served me very well, and continues to.
In this spirit, after using the chest for nearly five years with only subtle modifications to the insides of some drawers to hold tools securely and adding some drop-in divider walls to section things off, I decided to make a few modifications to the chest both functionally and cosmetically. Functionally, to promote ease of access and use, and cosmetically, to "personalize" the chest in a manner inspired by fine cabinetry of antiquity.
Functionally, there was one aspect of the chest that always bothered me a little. The chest came with two locks: one to lock the top "lid" shut, and another to lock the front panel which slides up and out from under the drawers to act as a barrier and cover for the drawer bay during transport or for security. That there were two locks was not so much the problem, but that they both had drastically different keys caused me considerable worry. Within the first year or two of owning the chest, one of the keys for the drawer pannel got lost, leaving me with only one key for that lock which I could not find a repalcement for. Locking this panel, which was the only way to secure it for transport, was a little nerve jangling and I constantly worried about the location of the one and only key that could open it again.
Many tool chests of this style with a front panel like mine have a very ellegant solution to securing the drawer panel. When the top lid of the chest is closed, it pushes down one or more spring loaded metal pins into corresponding holes made in the top surface of the drawer panel, thus locking it in place. When the top lid is opened, the pins spring back, and the panel can be opened freely.
Inspired by this mechanism, I fabricated my own out of a few pieces of brass, some aluminum bushings, and the spring from an old ball point pen.
It is not exquisitely crafted, the drawers and slides are not perfectly centered and leveled, the wood selection leaves something to be desired, and there are a few other idiosyncrasies that become apparent after "living" with the tool chest for a while. All this being said, however, it is very practical, solid, and portable, all aspects I was really looking for and still desire. A custom made tool chest would be wonderful to have some day, but this war horse has served me very well, and continues to.
In this spirit, after using the chest for nearly five years with only subtle modifications to the insides of some drawers to hold tools securely and adding some drop-in divider walls to section things off, I decided to make a few modifications to the chest both functionally and cosmetically. Functionally, to promote ease of access and use, and cosmetically, to "personalize" the chest in a manner inspired by fine cabinetry of antiquity.
Functionally, there was one aspect of the chest that always bothered me a little. The chest came with two locks: one to lock the top "lid" shut, and another to lock the front panel which slides up and out from under the drawers to act as a barrier and cover for the drawer bay during transport or for security. That there were two locks was not so much the problem, but that they both had drastically different keys caused me considerable worry. Within the first year or two of owning the chest, one of the keys for the drawer pannel got lost, leaving me with only one key for that lock which I could not find a repalcement for. Locking this panel, which was the only way to secure it for transport, was a little nerve jangling and I constantly worried about the location of the one and only key that could open it again.
Many tool chests of this style with a front panel like mine have a very ellegant solution to securing the drawer panel. When the top lid of the chest is closed, it pushes down one or more spring loaded metal pins into corresponding holes made in the top surface of the drawer panel, thus locking it in place. When the top lid is opened, the pins spring back, and the panel can be opened freely.
Inspired by this mechanism, I fabricated my own out of a few pieces of brass, some aluminum bushings, and the spring from an old ball point pen.
Click picture for more detail
Click picture for more detail
Cosmetically, I didn't think it pertinent to do much cosmetically to the outside of the box. I wanted the tool chest to appear fairly unasuming from the outside, but to give it a little more "wow" factor when opened up for use. I drew inspiration from fine antique furniture and other tool chests, particularly that of H.O. Studley, a Boston-based piano maker from the turn of the 20th century who's master work tool chest is beyond reproach. A cursory search of his name will turn up the magnificent tool chest he created.
I sought to use ebony veneers to dress up the sliding drawer fronts, which I had to sand and plane to remove a decorative "bead" carved along the bottom sides of the existing faces. Suitable ebony veneer being rather expensive, I instead opted for some finely figured walnut, which I dyed black as a substitute. The contrasting accents I made from very thin mother of pearl, adhered to the surface. The drawer pulls are made from violin endbuttons.
There are a few details I would like to add in the future, and will post them here and in the blog when I finish fleshing them out.
Cosmetically, I didn't think it pertinent to do much cosmetically to the outside of the box. I wanted the tool chest to appear fairly unasuming from the outside, but to give it a little more "wow" factor when opened up for use. I drew inspiration from fine antique furniture and other tool chests, particularly that of H.O. Studley, a Boston-based piano maker from the turn of the 20th century who's master work tool chest is beyond reproach. A cursory search of his name will turn up the magnificent tool chest he created.
I sought to use ebony veneers to dress up the sliding drawer fronts, which I had to sand and plane to remove a decorative "bead" carved along the bottom sides of the existing faces. Suitable ebony veneer being rather expensive, I instead opted for some finely figured walnut, which I dyed black as a substitute. The contrasting accents I made from very thin mother of pearl, adhered to the surface. The drawer pulls are made from violin endbuttons.
There are a few details I would like to add in the future, and will post them here and in the blog when I finish fleshing them out.