A friend gave me an old Necchi in a desk type of cabinet. It had sat in the basement for many years near where her stepdad smoked fish. He had set everything on fire with an electrical cord going over a heater. There was a deep layer of soot and burned grease on the cabinet and the head. The drawers seemed to hold the memories of his sons as they grew up. Everything from old report cards to bullets that looked like they would take down an elephant. I kept the cabinet, returned the mementos to her stepdad, and gave the machine and accessories to the nicest shoe salesman I ever met. He cleaned and rewired the machine, then sent me a photo along with description of carhart bags he makes. You meet the nicest people when you share a love of old sewing machines.