I could tell stories about the unique and interesting history of
this bench. About who made it, how it passed along through my family,
was almost thrown out, then almost sold at a garage sale. Stories of
movement, time, things that happened.
My grandfather and his father built this bench to replace one that was swept off the porch of the house in Rudolph, Ohio when a tornado passed one afternoon. Painting it green was the idea of my great-grandmother, who said she wanted the color "for the winter time."
The bench became the favorite sitting-place for talking things out. Good things and bad things. And when my grandmother came to the farm for the first time to meet her in-laws-to-be, she sat next to my great-grandmother on the bench and talked about the state fair and where she and my grandfather might decide to settle down once he opened his practice.
I could tell such stories, but they wouldn't be true.
The truth is, I don't know anything about the history of the bench. I only got it last year, as a gift from my mom, who bought it at an antique show and bought it because it has beautiful old green paint, which is something we both find quite appealing.