I stared into Merten's Garage that day, the sun beating down on the back of my neck, before we all assumed a seat in the oval­-shaped formation of chairs with the owner, Joe. We were all told several stories: the great ice storm, repairing Model T cars "in any color as long as they were black" and working in winter on trucks that were too bulky to fit through the garage doors. One of the stories interested me greatly: how he got his potbelly stove.