The Light

Concealment is a good friend

One day my Dad bought a lounge chair recliner and put it near the built in the wall bookcase in the living room of our Plano Texas home. He placed the chair so that it was facing the fireplace. The problem was that the lighting in the house did not reach that corner of the living room adequately, so he decided to add a track light or single bulb spotlight to showcase the fireplace.

He went to the hardware store and purchased a very nice single bulb spotlight. When my Brother and I were away from the house he installed the light and did not tell anyone. When we arrived home, he sat in his recliner and said, "Look at the fireplace", which at that moment was the usual dark corner. We did not realize that he was doing a magicians misdirection trick on us. As we watched the darken corner, suddenly the fireplace bricks were awash with bright light. We looked up to the ceiling in amazement. Behind a ceiling timber near the fireplace was a concealed spot light, illuminating that dark corner. The next logical question was how did it turn on while we were standing there. My Dad just sat there with the biggest Cheshire cat grin that I have ever seen on his face. My Brother and I both ran around the room looking for the switch that turned on the light. But our search was in vain. Finally in a moment of desperation, I decided to trace the wire from the lamp to the source, but to no avail. He had concealed the wires between the ceiling and the ceiling timber. We were both totally stunned and baffled. And my Dad's face was glowing with pride. Even knowing what we looking for, we still could not find the light switch.

In 1972, technology was very space age and we just knew that he had some kind of voice activated switch or laser beam contraption. You see my Dad always went overboard when it came to electronics. Move over Tim the tool man Taylor, ha. So anyhow, my Dad would have my Brother and I look at the fireplace and zap, the light would go on or off seeming at will. As soon as the light came on or off, we would instantly glance over at Dad and he always appeared to be relaxing in his chair and not reaching for anything. But since I was an amateur magician, I knew that the hand was faster than the eye. So we had Dad get out of the chair, we took turns sitting in the chair, desperately looking and feeling around for the switch.

Nada.

By then we were hoping mad and frustrated. Were was the switch? With great flair, he sat in his chair, had us looking at him, and then he reached just a few inches, to something on the underside of the a shelf in the bookcase next to him. Click, the light on the fireplace went on. We were stunned. It was a simple toggle switch, 59 cents worth, but hours of work to conceal it. He had strategically placed the switch at arm level to his chair, attaching the switch to the underside of the self, about four inches in. At that height and depth, someone standing next to the bookcase, you would never see the switch. Standing across the room, you could not even see the switch. He ran the wire from the switch to the light through the back of the bookcase, up the wall, into the small crack between the ceiling timber and the ceiling. Not a wire was visible to the naked eye. And since the bookcase was built into the wall, we never suspected that he could have rigged it. After that little demonstration of concealment, that was just for fun, I knew that the bad guys never stood a chance when TSD did their thing.