Some time ago, I bought several vintage door handles not so I could replace the simple glass door knobs that have been in my home since it was built in the early 1920s. I bought them because they were artistically beautiful.
Their shine is as brilliant as gold and they’re just as weighty. One set resembled wings but were carved as leaves and berries, and several were door and keyhole escutcheons also constructed as leaves.
What I found just as intriguing were the handwritten notes attached to two of the items. One written in pencil on a tag said simply: 1 pair door pulls Brass Mrs. Borowsky.
Did these come from an old house that she owned? I wondered. Or were they a replacement?
The other note was attached to a small flat keyhole cover: Guerin Sample Jansen Finish.
I come across items all the time with notes that people at one point in their lives had left as a reminder to themselves or for other people. A month or so ago, someone had left instructions on a refrigerator that apparently had been relegated to the basement. Now, it was on a concrete floor among other items at this auction house, the note still attached.
These notes always trigger the sleuth in me, compelling me to wonder about who these people were, how they lived their lives and what circumstances precipitated the messages.
As for Mrs. Borowsky, I wondered why she gave up such lovely door handles. They were intricately detailed as if done by an artist’s hand. They may actually have been manufactured by machine, but the designs came from a creative mind. In the past, I’d come across handsome brass door knobs at auction pretty often but not much anymore.
Some of them had very nice patina and deeply carved designs. My auction buddy Janet, a Brooklyn native, said she has had for years a door knob from a New York public school house.
Door knobs and handles are among items considered architectural salvage, which has now become part of the lexicon of “going green” to save the earth’s resources. Many companies have been built around selling them to homeowners who want to maintain the authenticity of their old homes. I also found companies on the web that sell reproductions.
I’ve been to several of these architectural-salvage companies, one of which kept most of its items – claw-foot tubs, bathroom sinks, metal garden railings and more – outside on its property. I ended up buying a stack of low-standing iron fencing that I use as a border around my front yard. They were not cheap, and that was before I discovered auctions.
Habitat for Humanity Restore is a place to find these architectural treasures. There’s one near me, but I haven’t checked it out. Here’s where you can find a location near you.
These places sell items like my door handles as “hardware,” but that conjures up something pedestrian and functional in my mind. I don’t see mine as handles; they’re much too nice to be labeled so casually.
I’m not sure what I’ll do with them except admire them. But I will continue to wonder about who was Mrs. Borowsky and why did someone have her door handles.
