A man who loved a clock — the community who loved the man

Courtesy photo city of Alamosa The Velhagen clock, 1929.

The restoration of the Velhagen clock

ALAMOSA — On Dec. 23, 1911, a short announcement ran in the Alamosa Courier. “The Velhagen Brothers have ordered a $600 electric clock that will be installed in front of their store in a short period of time and will be a great improvement to State Avenue,” it read.

On Jan. 17, 1912, a second announcement appeared in the Alamosa Empire, “A clock that weighs 2,500 pounds with an electric bulb to light the hour and minute hands will soon adorn the front of Velhagen Bros., the massive timepiece having arrived yesterday, by freight, of course.”

Finally, in March of 1912, a statement in the Valley Courier read, “Velhagen Bros., the enterprising jewelers, are installing the fine new electric street clock that was ordered from the East some months ago. It will be quite a novelty for Alamosa and an adornment for State Street.”

For more than half a century, the street clock would do its duty from where it stood in front of Velhagen Bros. Jewelry at 505 State Ave. Provided it was wound every eight days, it kept precise time visible both day and night while advertising VELHAGEN BROS. JEWELRY on its hood. Rarely, its image might be captured by chance in photographs but not often. 

The massive electric street clock stood more than 16 feet tall, with a dial illuminated at night making it possible to read the time from several blocks away. Beautifully crafted finials adorned the top. With its master craftsmanship and attention to intimate detail, the clock was one of only 212 made in the world by the Seth Thomas Clock Company, considered to be the “Tiffany” of all clockmakers. Today, it’s suspected to be one of only nine of its kind still in existence.

In 1968 after both Ewald and Edward Velhagen had passed away, the city planned to widen State Avenue and slated the clock to be hauled away for scrap. That would have happened, too, had it not been for one special man.

A MAN WHO LOVED A CLOCK

John Davis was a quiet, unassuming yet, as described by others, “brilliant” man. Born in Alamosa in 1938, he “grew up poor," his daughter Deborah Shawcroft says. “His dad died when he was young, and they didn’t have a lot of money, so he started working for Paul Stever at Van’s Machine Shop just doing odd jobs around the shop. I think that’s when he really fell in love with being a machinist. He built his first hot rod car when he was just a teenager.”

Davis called himself “an original picker. He loved antiques, especially clocks.” Davis also had a passion for medicine and living things, including animals, like his “shop cats”. He earned his undergraduate degree in pre-medicine at Adams State University and then attended medical school at the Allied Health Sciences Center in Denver.

“It just wasn’t for him,” Shawcroft says. “He wanted to deal with machines, so he came back home and that’s what he did.” Davis supposedly bought Vans Machine Shop from Stever with only $11 and a gentleman’s handshake.

“But that clock, it was like a part of his life,” Shawcroft says. “When it sat on State Street in front of the jewelry store, he just wanted to save it so badly. It was a part of history — his history. He was born here. This was his home.”

When Davis learned the plans to scrap the Velhagen clock, he approached the city with a proposal. As part of the project to widen the streets, the sewer needed work. Davis agreed to do that work if, in exchange, they would allow him to have the clock. He “had himself a deal." He moved it to storage and, over the decades, worked on bits and pieces at a time.

Then his health began to fail. “The Velhagen clock was never far from his mind. He had so many dreams like that. The clock was so special, but life just got away from him. You think you have forever, and you don’t.”

THE COMMUNITY WHO LOVED THE MAN

“I used to be half owner of Van’s Machine Shop. We bought the shop from John in the 80s,” says J.R. Olson. “He worked for us, so we got to be friends. He told me about the condition of the clock. He said it was taken down in one piece. You can’t take it down or assemble it in one piece, you have to take it apart in sections or something will break. And the center piece was broken. Parts were worn and corroded and rusted and he really wanted to fix it up. So, I said, let’s work on it together and we did. That started about 15 years ago.”

When Davis became sick and wasn’t able to do very much, Olson still had lunch with him every week. “We talked about other things, but we always talked about the clock. It was real important to him and I promised him I would do everything I could to get it going. I made him that promise.”

Davis was still alive when Olson started working on the movement — the mechanism that drives the whole thing — and got it working. “There’s no store to buy parts,” he says, laughing. “No owner's manual or place to call. So, you do what you can to make it work.”

He sandblasted all the parts, made a new gear, a new drive shaft and a center piece and completely restored the movement — the inner mechanism — of the clock. When asked, he can’t come close to estimating how much time he’s invested.

“Some people think that old clocks are just old clocks, but some people realize this is a treasured antique and it’s worth keeping for its historic relevance. This clock is pretty amazing. John knew that.”

“John was a machinist. He saw value in 19th century machinery,” says Richard Luckemeier, former civil engineer for the city who’s also working on the project. “Yes, this clock is a utilitarian piece of machinery, but it also has a lot of architectural elements to it. It’s a functional piece of art. This clock has style and people of the day saw value in this because of the style. We don’t do that nowadays. Nowhere, no how. Nothing. Instead of putting up a clock with the name of a jeweler, you put up an electronic clock where you have to watch an ad before you can see what time it is.”

It’s been agreed that, once restored, the clock will be placed in front of Kavley’s on Main Street, just west of State, as Davis had hoped would happen. As that day gets closer, people are reflecting on what it means.

“I think we’re all doing it for John because John never got a chance to finish it,” Luckemeier says. “It’s been a community led project.”

“He would be so thrilled that it wasn’t all for nothing,” says Shawcroft. “I’m so glad it’s moving forward, and that people are doing this to make this happen.”

“I made John a promise and that’s why I’m doing it,” says Olson. “This will be the finish of the greatest project I’ve ever done and it’s great to honor John in this. Every time I come to Alamosa to visit, I’m going to go to that clock and listen to that tick-tock just like it did 125 years ago. I can’t wait.”

The cost of the restoration is about $30,000, $25,000 of which has already come from the community through donations of services, time and materials.

In addition to the city of Alamosa’s contribution in assigning Beata Ramza, a staff member with the city, to research and offer support on the restoration and has become an integral part of the project, Richard Luckemeir (retired city engineer), John Olson (precision machinist), Hogue’s Glass, Colorado Custom Wood and Metal Design LLC, Van’s Machine Shop, and RMS Utilities are all local residents and businesses who want to see this project through and are donating their skills.

Ramza is also requesting that anyone with memories or stories about the Velhagen clock contact her at [email protected] or 719-589-6631 x2520.