THE ITEM

O’Donnell’s motor still running

At 84, he still fixes motors that drive the world

Ken Cleveland Item Correspondent
Carl O'Donnell, 84, working on a motor in his Clinton shop. [Item photo/KEN CLEVELAND]

CLINTON – Carl O’Donnell was busy at his workbench when the door buzzed.

Into his cavalcade of electric motors, parts and equipment, a man from a Hudson company brought in a motor his company needed O’Donnell to work on. He left a while later with his motor running again.

Soon after, a Clinton man and his son stopped in, asking O’Donnell to work on a motor they needed for their compressor and he started testing it, determining he needed to open it up for a repair.

They know where to stop: where the electric motor hangs outside at 476 Main St.

“This is my junk pile,” O'Donnell said, pointing out the collection of parts he uses to repair motors, some of which are no longer made and do not have easily located parts. He also prides himself on quick turnaround. That was true years ago as well, when he might get a call from a local dairy farmer whose milking machine went down.

Cows waiting to be milked by hand were not happy cows. When dairy farmers had problems with their milking machines, “there were many a night out at some barn. They milk early in the morning, and they’re not going to milk 40 cows by hand.”

Today, O’Donnell, 84, moves a little slower and focuses on smaller motors. But, his interest in the motors — and excitement at finding the problem and fixing it — is apparent. And he has a little more time to chat with people.

O’Donnell ended up in Clinton and working for Alex Nordstrom, taking over Clinton Electric Motor Co. when Nordstrom passed away.

Roundabout route

He took a roundabout route from his birth in Oklahoma, where he was raised by his teenage, unwed mother. He ended up in the Army, and, after getting out and realizing the Army was a better place for him, he returned to military life.

When he met his wife, Carole Nordstrom, he was stationed at Fort Devens and playing miniature golf at Whalom Park. After a year in Korea, he said he courted her from Virginia, where he was stationed at the time.

Although he said he benefited from the Army, he did not want that life for his family, especially his children, Carey and Mark. 

“I wanted my kids to have a stable home life.”

So after 12 years in the Army, he ended up in Clinton.

His Army talents, driving tanks or working as a Morse code intercept operator, did not translate well to civilian life. So he took to motors when he joined his father-in-law’s business.

He had applied to Colonial Press, next door to his father-in-law’s business on Green Street, but the motors turned out to be his thing.

‘A reason to get out of bed’

O’Donnell’s tinkering, combined with a problem-solving mind and ability to learn, helped him become an expert with motors — and solving problems.

He handled motors, big and small, exotic to industrial, such as those driving the cog railway in New Hampshire and Wachusett Mountain lifts and Kennebunkport Trolley Museum.

“All this stuff is learned over time,” O’Donnell said. “I’m still learning.”

And he had to learn the business, which he bought after his father-in-law suddenly passed away in 1974, including buying and pricing.

His customers over the years included a list of major Clinton businesses: Van Brode Milling, ITT Surprenant, Ray-O-Vac, Weetabix, Colonial Press, Nypro, LFE and Table Talk Pies. His favorite motors were the injection molding motors in the 50 to 60 HP range.

When Ray-O-Vac left the Green Street location, O’Donnell was the only business left in the complex, leading him to move to the Parker Molding location, on Brook Street, about 1980.

He was 72 when he had to move again in 2005, and largely moved the inventory and equipment himself to the Main Street building, with some friends helping move the big things. He recalled packing, disassembling shelves and then reassembling them and organizing the items. It was his own workout program.

“It’s a dying business,” O’Donnell said as he stood among the “donor motors” lining his shelves.

At 84, he takes his time and needs help from customers to lift the heavier motors onto a work cart.

But when he starts tinkering, opening the motors, checking the wiring and components, he is in his element, and explains the problem to those who wait for a repair, and a chat.

“Every once in a while, I find something I’m not familiar with,” O’Donnell said. It’s not all work, really. “It’s a reason to get out of bed in the morning,” O’Donnell said of his business.

Now living in an apartment in his daughter’s Boylston home, he is still independent.

“There is nothing more pathetic than a guy who hates his job and can’t find something he likes to do,” O’Donnell said, having found his calling half a century ago.

“I’m very fortunate and rich with the family and work I’ve had. I have no regrets,” O’Donnell said. “It’s been an adventure.”

Rewarding experience

With 55 years in the business, he said he has overall been very happy. “It’s been a rewarding experience” with a lot of challenges. “Some amazed me, the things I’ve tackled,” he said. “I’ve enjoyed the learning process.”

He still figures problems out in his head.

“He’s forgotten more about electric motors than most people will ever know,” Clinton businessman Kevin LeCompte said. “He’s one of the smartest, cleverest people I have ever met.”

LeCompte praised O’Donnell’s “thorough approach to diagnosing things and his kind nature. You can bring him anything with an electric motor and he can fix it, or tell you if it shouldn’t be fixed.”

If O’Donnell worked on it, “You got it back knowing it was going to work,” LeCompte said, adding “I wish I could stick a USB cord in the back of his neck and download him.”

O’Donnell still works on the motors, leaving some of the billing to his daughter, but will handle the office work at times.

He still has a typewriter in his office he uses for typing invoices when he makes a repair for a waiting customer.

“If it can be fixed, he’ll fix it,” daughter Carey Zammitti said.

“It’s a good feeling,” O’Donnell said of fixing something that can be made useful again. He has tackled other things, noting he fixed a google horn from a model T, "things I had no business doing."

His shop has motors, machine tools, power cords salvaged from old motors, motor rebuilding components and a sense that it has been there from the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. It exudes that aged smell, the perfume of machine shops that combines machines, tools and a little grease that perhaps only mechanics and those who work on machines will truly appreciate.

“There are different ways motors work,” O’Donnell explained. “Not all are the same,” he said, “and similar motors may have modifications.” So his stock of old motors may be the only source for a specific piece to fix a motor a customer brings in.

It's as much a hobby as a business now.

“People have a tough time getting out of here,” he admitted. He chats a lot, and people chat back. “Everybody who comes through that door has more problems than I do.”

If O’Donnell has had problems, they don’t show that much. He grew the business, bought a house and put two children through college. His children have given him five grandchildren.

He lost his wife several years ago and has battled prostate cancer, but still sees the bright side of every day.

“It’s so funny,” Zammitti said of her father’s woes. “In his mind, he is still young and vibrant. He hates the limitations that age and disease have put on him, but, as he says, he isn’t ready to pack the tent up yet.”

“I’ve enjoyed my life; I’ve had a great time,” O’Donnell said.