Culture Of Time Through Watches, Those Who Have Died In Service Of Their Country Are Remembered

Memorial Day has always been a blast. There's nothing I love more than firing up the grill, throwing a few steaks on there, and soaking up early summer with a brew in one hand and a football in the other while they get a nice sear on 'em.

For most of my youth, the meaning of Memorial Day was lost on me. Both my grandfathers served in the Army, one at home and one in the Korean War, but they made it through and went on to pursue the American dream during the postwar economic expansion. I knew Memorial Day was about honoring those we've lost while serving, but I didn't genuinely internalize and understand what that meant until later in life.

And a wristwatch played a part in getting me there.

The watch stories that draw me in often aren't really about watches at all. Instead, watches provide a lens through which we look at something much more important. They're an excuse to deeply research a story, or sometimes an excuse to tell a story. My general interest in history, geopolitics, military affairs, aviation, and foreign culture meant that I naturally hunt for watch stories in that space.

Early on in my watch collecting arc, I developed an obsession with caseback engravings. A lot of folks have very strong opinions on caseback engravings from a collecting standpoint, whether it adds or subtracts value or what it means in terms of originality. I frankly don't care about any of that. To me, the engraving is the first breadcrumb in a larger trail that I always feel compelled to follow. It became an obsession, specifically finding watches with engravings from WWII soldiers, when it was a common practice to inscribe an identity on the caseback. Sometimes there was even a note or a well-wishing, or a date. Those all helped me trace the history of the watch, and more importantly, the person who wore it. I tried to find out who actually wore trench watches from WWI or issued watches that are highly collectable today.

This obsession transformed into an ongoing project that I loosely dubbed #alwaysreadthecaseback. In 2019, I published a story that traced the history of a number of watches I had collected that once belonged to American soldiers. Most of those soldiers came home to lead fulfilling lives. Others did not. During the research phase of this project, I ended up calling dozens of strangers and chatting about their relatives who served. It felt voyeuristic, but I also realized that the people on the other end of the line often didn't care who they were talking to, or that it was some weirdo who found their name from the caseback of a watch and a few hours on Google, they just wanted to immortalize and honor the legacy of their relative who had served, and specifically those who had died in the name of the country.

It had a serious impact on me, and made the whole project that much more personal. Through a watch, I was connected to these people who had served the nation and sometimes perished in battle over half a century ago. Whether or not it was true, it made me feel like the work I was doing was important. It was fulfilling. I wasn't just writing product-focused stories about watches and acting as a conduit between watch manufacturers and consumers, instead I was preserving a piece of my country's history.

And sometimes the mission went beyond US shores. One watch I researched ended up having an important connection to Oakville, Ontario. I've since donated it to the Oakville Museum at Erchless Estate. It's fascinating how a watch can connect us with faraway places and people, and transcend temporality and physical distance.

When researching "The Watch That Came In From The Cold," I spent countless hours reading about Norman Schwartz, Civil Air Transport, the CIA's role in shaping policy in the Far East during the '50s, and the stars on the CIA Memorial Wall. By the time it was over I felt like I knew Norman Schwartz and his co-pilot Robert Snoddy. That was a story that turned into an obsession. That strange-looking charred Rolex sent me on a mission that eventually turned into an infatuation. When I would get off work and leave HODINKEE HQ, I'd go home and get lost in primary sources from the period that would help me understand the world that Schwartz lived in.

It was through watches that I started to appreciate what some have given for our country in a new light. Watches added names and faces and stories to the abstract idea of "sacrifices for the nation." Now, every Memorial Day, in the quiet moments between drinking brews and enjoying the sizzle of steaks on the grates, I pause to think about the folks who have perished in the name of freedom, and how I came to learn their stories through their watches.