I’ve written before about my dad’s Omega Speedmaster Professional, now my Omega Speedmaster Professional, and how he passed it down to me. But before I forget, I want to write about a few of the stories he told me about that watch. They’ve always stuck with me.
When I first got it, I thought he’d bought it in 1969. Turns out that wasn’t true. After some research, the serial number puts it around 1970 or 1971. When my dad was still alive he confirmed that timeframe. Still, an absolute classic.
One thing he told me that always made me laugh was how Omega almost never buys back their old watches, but more than once, when he sent it in for maintenance, he claims they offered to buy it from him. He always said no.
My dad was a physician assistant who worked in trauma and surgery, so the watch saw some things. He used to joke that it had been sterilized more times than he could count, which, considering where it had been, I appreciated hearing.
He told me about one time when one of the links on the band came apart while he was literally working inside someone’s chest, and the watch slipped off his wrist. They had to fish it out, clean it thoroughly, and fix the band afterward. I still have that original band, so I know it got fixed.
I can’t imagine that would be allowed now. I don’t know what the current hospital rules are, but I’m guessing “no watches in open chests” is probably written down somewhere these days, sterilized or not.
When I tell people that story, some of them are grossed out, others think it’s amazing. I’m firmly in the “amazing” camp. It’s history, after all.
Another quirk is the bezel. Instead of the usual tachymeter, his has what Omega called a pulsometer bezel. It’s what I grew up seeing on his wrist, so to me, that’s just what the watch is supposed to look like. When I had it serviced maybe ten years ago, they asked if I wanted them to replace it since it doesn’t rotate anymore. I said absolutely not. The bezel’s part of its story.
Years ago, when I was living in New York, I brought it to the Omega Boutique for maintenance. The guy behind the counter said he’d have someone take a look and disappeared into the back. A few minutes later, an older gentleman, clearly one of their watchmakers, came out excited to see it. He thought the pulsometer bezel was great and said it was a really special piece. He also told me they could do the service in-house instead of sending it back to Switzerland, which was a relief. Apparently if it was slightly older it would need to travel for service.
It was nice seeing someone else appreciate it that much. That old watchmaker was genuinely happy to work on it.
I don’t wear the original metal band anymore, it was always a little loose even when my dad wore it, and apparently that specific band design is rare now. So I keep it stored safely and use a NATO strap instead.
It’s funny how polarizing this watch can be. Some people hear its stories and get squeamish. Others think it’s the coolest thing ever. I’m clearly in the second group.
Every time I take it in for service, it still gets attention. It always starts a conversation. And I love that.


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