Manalto

While walking my dogs a few Sunday mornings ago, I encountered a stack of old, beat-up furniture at the curb in front of a house, presumably the residents cleaning out in preparation for putting the house up for sale. Among the unmemorable pieces was a sewing machine cabinet. My collecting/hoarding of vintage machines instinct immediately kicked in, quickly followed by the reminder that I’m already paying monthly storage fees for dozens of machines that never see the light of day, much less a yard of fabric.
”Oh,well,” thought, “I’ll satisfy my curiosity. If it’s not empty, it’s probably a cheap, plastic machine that won’t be the least bit tempting.”
Boy, was I wrong. Tucked into the weathered cabinet was a grimy, but otherwise pristine, Pfaff 362. I dragged it down to my friend’s house who, coincidentally, lives just a few doors down the street, and returned in my vehicle to pick it up.
It was just the machine; no power cord and because there was no storage space in the cabinet aside from a narrow trough on the door, no attachments, manual or supplies. I ordered a power cord online and once lubricated, the old machine sprung to life, sewing a respectable straight stitch, but would neither zig nor zag. It took a great deal of coaxing, kerosene (outdoors), oil and heat from a blow dryer to finally get the zigzag and LCR lever functioning properly. Huzzah!
This find is of particular significance to me because my prized 362 that I found years ago was similarly frozen (thank you, German engineering) and, rather than risk tampering with my prized Pfaff, I handed it over to the local sewing machine repair shop, who promptly snapped off the rat-tail reverse knob, and handed it back to me with a non-committal shrug. I was furious, and discouraged. The hunt for a replacement for the original produced a vague lookalike of a different size. (I’ve since learned the knob replacement for these machines is so involved that time-travel to mid-60s Germany is probably the easiest option.)
I’ve moved since acquiring the first 362 and it’s been years, but all the attachments, feet, manual and precious pattern wheel are all somewhere, waiting to be unearthed and, at long last, put to use.
I’m even refinishing the cabinet I found it in, adding a few pieces of Craftsman-style hardware to harmonize with its new place of residence.
(I have forgotten how to post photos here, but will do so as soon as I’m able.)