Believe it or not, I finally got that gnarly timer looking decent and running like a top.
I’ve never had a project like this in my life. Every facet of it goes more easily and turns out better than expected. It’s like hitting all green lights when you’re running late.

I kept the timer movement by my bed and nudged it along every time it stopped ticking for a few days while I watched TV. Eventually it didn’t need my help anymore.
Soldering the old plug wiring was fun, even though I seared my palm checking to see if it was cool enough to put away afterwards. Note to Self: Be sure you’ve unplugged the soldering iron before expecting it to cool off.
I removed the previous owner’s spray paint from the faceplate with chemical stripper. It dissolved long before the factory enamel even softened.
Residual staining and oxidation was removed with my trusty cutting compound.
The on/off/reverse switch has much better, more decisive pop & click action now that the unit it firmly mounted in place.
Once I finally had the fan all reassembled, I was scared to plug it in. I thought for sure sparks were going to fly, or the blades were going to ricochet out, embedding in the surrounding walls like a tornado movie.
When it whirred to life just as it was designed to, you could have knocked me over with a feather.
I’m crediting 1950s American engineering for the ease of this entire restoration.
This thing will blow the wallpaper off the walls without hardly making a sound.
There’s no clicking, ticking, pinging, squeaking, or rattling, not even the faintest motor hum. The only thing you hear is the sound of the ferociously angled blades pushing air like a freight train.
On a white noise scale, it’s practically pharmaceutical.
Now I just have to figure out where to put this thing.
