Watchmakers say their time isn't up yet
By Joy Davia
Rochester (N.Y.) Democrat and Chronicle
What's the workplace like for someone in a profession that's sort of dying?
Think lots of tools to fix tiny parts and motors. Like tweezers, mini buffers, waterproof-testing tanks and an "octopus," a mechanism that simulates the movement of a wrist.
Mike Jimenez and David Strassner work in such a place, as watchmakers at Mann's Jewelers in Pittsford, N.Y.
On a recent morning, a green tube shot up from the downstairs sales floor and into the watchmakers' second-floor area. Jimenez, 45, who was working alone since Strassner was vacationing, reached into the chute, which sends up watches needing a quick fix.
Inside the tube was a Peugeot in need of a new battery.
On a nearby worktable, other watches in need of fixings that wouldn't be as quick waited in clear plastic Baggies. A Gucci needed a new band, for example, and a Rolex needed fixing after being smashed in a car accident.
Years ago, people didn't think there would still be a need for such workers.
The advent of the cheaper digital quartz watches in the late 1970s was supposed to make obsolete the more costly, harder-to-fix pieces such as automatic Swiss watches. The watchman's skill was supposed to become a forgotten craft, prompting many to get out of the business.
About that time, Strassner and Jimenez, as teenagers, ignored such omens. They had part-time jobs at jewelry stores, which exposed them to the craft.
It was the right move.
"It ended up being a mistake to think the inexpensive, battery-operated watches would destroy the fine-watch industry," said Strassner, 44. "It totally went in the opposite direction."
It's hard to say how much the watchmaker ranks have shrunk.
One way to gauge? Membership in the American Watchmakers-Clockmakers Institute has dropped from 5,800 members in 1991 to 3,500 now, said Executive Director Jim Lubic.
David Cornell, owner of Cornell Jewelers in Pittsford, said he could never find a watchmaker talented enough to add to his staff. So he sends watches to out-of-state manufacturers or trade shops for most repairs.
He also wondered whether people could really make money repairing watches when people nowadays would rather buy anew than fix a broken product. Watchmakers can survive only if they attract the complicated, costly watches, he added.
But Lubic disagreed. About 20 percent of his membership in 2000 made at least $60,000 yearly, he said, and the average salary hit about $45,000.
But whatever the reason for the shortage, watch manufacturers are a bit worried. After all, a 1991 study showed that the United States would need about 2,500 more watchmakers by 2000, Lubic said. But that never happened.
So manufacturers are funneling money into watchmaker training programs, in a lot of cases offering free classes.
There is hope. A few more students are attending watchmaker schools. "The numbers are small, however," Lubic said.
Mann's has an apprenticeship program, although not a lot of people have converted to the craft. Jimenez noted that his stepson, 13, likes watching him tinker with watches.
"When he gets older, I'll give him tweezers and a watch and see how he does," he said.
