Where Did You Study? My Place Was an Old Oak Desk - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Where Did You Study? My Place Was an Old Oak Desk - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

The desk oozed strength. It was gifted to Dad who used it for years, and then he gave it to me, I used it through high school, college, medical school, and to this day. The grand old heavy oak with secret drawers became my friend. Its once smooth surface was roughened by wear, some ink stains, scrapes and scratches. Then we moved. And now it’s too big. And now this reliable companion sits in the cold cellar waiting for its next assignment. It needs a new home. It needs love and someone to snuggle legs under the arch again, pull out the desk extender to rest an arm and write.

The desk had three large drawers with storage compartments; even a secret way to lock all the drawers without a lock and key.

It sat in the corner of my room when I was in school, sunlight drifting in from windows on either side, a flexible fluorescent light my partner during the nighttime hours. I wish I could say that in moments when I paused, and took that study break, I was looking over rolling hills and swaying branches but no, nothing that romantic. I was gazing at our garage roof with its blunted shingles. No matter.

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A comforting desk in a quiet bedroom is an essential sanctuary for studying with minimal distractions. It was my reliable, unviolated home. Nothing fancy. Everything was in its place every time I sat. It held my books, ink well, pens and pencils. It was about function. That’s where I was supposed to study, and that’s what I did. For hours.

The drawer that opened into my lap was the place for paper clips, an eraser, a stapler, and easily accessible papers. It even housed a nail clipper which I used as an occasional distraction. Oh, there was one more thing. Dad left a Mannheim Slide Rule in a black case with a button snap in the top drawer. I fiddled with it often, but never mastered it. The rule was operated by sliding two rulers to perform multiplication and division primarily. It even did exponents, roots, logarithms, and trigonometry, but save for multiplication, I could never figure it out. But it was Dad’s and a necessary part of the desk. Sadly, when he died, the slide rule went missing. I’m sure if I had it today, I would figure out how to use it by doing what I should have done then . . . take a course.

Things change. In our new home, I have limited space. I have a smaller desk; one less cozy because it’s not oak. And it doesn’t have a history. Or a slide rule.

Nothing can take the place of that old oak desk, a tower of strength in a place where I focused, where I had my own workspace, where I was productive, where I took comfort.

I love that desk. If I had another life, I would want my desk to be in it.