Doug Clark: Self-taught man bringing back oldies

In this world of gigabytes, downloads and digital this and that, George Ward is more at home with tuning eyes, vacuum tubes and condensers.

Ward, 77, is an old-time radio man.

“I don’t even know what the new stuff is,” he tells me with a laugh.

The “old stuff”?

That’s a whole different ballgame.

Ward has spent decades learning the insides and outsides of outmoded technology.

He’s an expert on those radios, phonographs and clocks that your grandparents or great-grandparents ordered out of catalogs like Sears or “Monkey” Ward.

Today you can find George and Sandy, his gregarious wife of 56 years, at the Spokane County fairgrounds. They are selling their bygone wares at the Collectible Antique Flea Market Show that ends at 4 p.m.

I met the Wards years ago at a similar venue.

Being a connoisseur of kitsch, I fast became a fan – but not just because this couple sell the kind of cool retro stuff that speaks to my inner clutter.

I soon learned to admire George as one of those rare birds who is as much technician as salesman. Buy an aged radio or whatever from George, and it’s usually in better working condition than it came new.

He goes through the electronics like a perfectionist, testing and cleaning and repairing anything in need of love and attention.

“I don’t know every in and out,” he adds, “but I know enough to be past dangerous.”

The Wards are folksy, friendly and a lot of fun to speak with. They work as a team, which speaks well of their marriage.

“We love people,” George says. “I enjoy visiting with folks, and through visiting with folks you can sell them things.”

They both also share a genuine affection for merchandise that is about as far away from high-tech as a political campaign is from the Golden Rule.

Take the 1920s-something phonograph that was playing Friday morning when I showed up to visit the Wards while they were setting up their space at the flea market.

The popular song being played was a recording by that late cowboy crooner, Gene Autry. The sound being emitted wasn’t even close to what our modernized ears have become conditioned to.

Still, it had an endearing warmth that was undeniable.

It was easy to imagine a family huddled around this handsome oak cabinet, tapping their toes in time to the music.

The fantasy was even easier to envision when Ward began singing along with a passable harmony part.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine …”

Ward, a forester by trade, says he fell into the antique biz when his collection hobby got out of hand.

It all started when the couple bought an old General Electric console while on a trip to North Dakota. They stuck the clunky beast in the rear seat of their Honda and hauled it back to the Northwest.

George bought a used tube tester to check out the vacuum tubes. He started reading books on radio restoration, which led to acquiring more and more radios.

“Pretty soon I had so many of them that there was no place to put them anymore.”

I believe I’ve heard the same sentiment from my lovely wife, Sherry.

The Wards, who live in North Idaho, bought a cargo van and hit the road in the mid-1990s to sell some of their treasures at antique and collectible shows.

The hobby had become a business as well as a new way to socialize.

“You meet so many fun people,” Sandy says. “It’s amazing how many people you meet.”

“We made friends everywhere,” George adds, “longtime life friends.”

The Wards grew up five houses away from each other in the Michigan town of St. Clair Shores.

George says he discovered Sandy one day while heading to school. She was taking out the garbage.

“I said, ‘Boy, I sure am glad I saw you this morning.’ ”

Sandy beamed until George added, “I almost forgot to take my garbage out.”

They obviously got past that awkward moment, “but it took a while,” adds Sandy.

In the antique world, vintage clocks remain George’s first love. “I’ve been taking them apart for years and have all the scars to prove I did it.”

The Wards haunt estate sales, always looking for items to restore and resell. You can tell they are having a good time and they definitely know what they are doing.

George realizes what the biggest obstacle is: those seconds ticking away on his collectible clocks.

Time passes. Interests fade. Anyone who gets into the antique trade quickly learns that this is a nostalgia-driven business.

Customers want to buy those items that rekindle specific memories of what they grew up with.

Interest fades “when people forget what these things were,” George says.

He tells a story about a child who pointed at one of his beautiful old radios and asked his mother what it was.

“It’s what we looked at instead of TV,” George told the boy, chuckling at the memory.

I can relate to that. Fortunately, there are enough of us around who still appreciate the old analog world that we used to live in.

George figures he’ll be long gone by the time the last of us die out.

Until then, he’ll be doing what he loves: taking things apart and putting them back together again.

“It’s a challenge to me to make something work again,” the radio man says. “It’s a real pleasure.”