Sometimes something that seems small can have a big impact. Sometimes one idea can revolutionise everything.
A mechanic in a Helsinki office was sitting in front of a broken cash register. A work light illuminated the room and the mechanic had lifted his glasses to his nose. In this room everything was as before, it was the start of a perfectly normal working day.
Outside, the world was roaring. The Grand Duchy of Finland was about to receive many new concessions from Russia and the general strike was over. Russia had suffered a defeat in the war against Japan, the US stock market was in a panic and Finland was about to hold its first parliamentary elections. It was 1907, one of the critical moments of the early twentieth century, and the world was in a state of flux and turmoil.
But that was not reflected in any way in this office in Helsinki. Emil Henriksson, the fine mechanic, was in his work, lost in thought, far from the tensions that now hovered over the world. He was repairing a cash register and watching the mechanical movement of the rotating wheels with his eyes. Fingers greasy and wearing a work coat, he sat at his desk. The humming silence was broken only by the occasional clank of the cash register's machinery.
Some might have said that the job seemed monotonous or boring, but on that particular day, Henriksson didn't feel that way. For he had a great idea in his head. Henriksson stood up, took a notepad from his pocket and, with slightly shaky hands, wrote down his idea. With those pencil drawings, the Abloy lock was born.
Emil Henriksson was a Finnish precision mechanic. As a young man he studied mechanics at the highly respected Vilhelm Falck-Rasmussen workshop, and after graduating from there he started repairing cash registers. It was at his work that this very important breakthrough in the mechanics of locks, based on rotating handicap plates, took place. Henriksson's idea was that this same mechanism could be used in lock cylinders, making them much more durable. Inspired by this idea, Emil Henriksson, aged only 24, made two trips to Germany with a prototype lock washer. All was ready, this lock would be suitable for industrial production.
Right in the centre of Helsinki, as the new trams rolled past, the manufacture of new types of locks began in 1918. The first batch was delivered to the hardware store for sale in December of that year, and the success story was complete. Standing at the door of his factory, watching the bustle of his newly independent country, Emil Henriksson surely could not have imagined that a hundred years later this same lock would still be installed on the door of every new home - to protect and secure, to provide security and durability. It all started with a broken cash register and a dimly lit office, on a perfectly ordinary working day. Things had progressed at a tremendous pace, and now Henriksson felt a sense of gratitude.
Emil Henriksson died in Helsinki in 1959. His life's work left posterity with one of the most famous Finnish inventions, which is why he is now known as the general inventor. That's certainly what Henriksson was for the most part. He was not a businessman who would have made millions through his own breakthroughs. Nor was he an aristocrat who sought some kind of social status through his own achievements. He was an inventor who worked hard and never achieved the respect he deserved in his lifetime. That respect has only come afterwards.
It is reported that Henriksson's relatives wrote obituaries for his obituary:
"Your life was full of work, but you were never discouraged."
Fitting words for an inventor whose life's work is still visible in almost every one of our homes.
Sources:
https://fi.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suomen_suuriruhtinaskunta
http://www.lukkokeskus.fi/fi/ajankohtaista/abloy-lukon-keksija-emil-henriksson-1886-1959
https://fi.wikipedia.org/wiki/1907
https://fi.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emil_Henriksson
https://www.abloy.fi/fi/abloy/abloyfi/yritys/110-vuotiaan-abloyn-tarina/keksija-emil-henriksson/
