Bible doctor

"What do you know about the Bible?" he asks and pulls off his gold rimmed glasses in a single sweeping motion.

A loaded question at best. But Ravenhill's eyes narrow. He wants to know what the person knows about Corinthians, specifically.

When there's no answer and the silence becomes as thick as the surrounding scent of fresh leather and musty books, he laughs and in his British accent admits "I couldn't tell you either."

John Ravenhill isn't much for formal introductions, or formalities for that matter.

Upon entering his shop, Davall & Chown in downtown Fort Myers, Ravenhill is full of laughter and is the perennial jokester. He's a lively sort down to his choice of clothing -- he's wearing a green and yellow Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts and a pair of leather sandals.

He claims he's spiffed up for the occasion, even shaved this morning. All so he could discuss his latest endeavor -- refurbishing Thomas Edison's family Bible.

It's taken a few weeks to perform this latest miracle of paper preservation and about $3,500 worth of work, but he's completed the task -- all free of charge.

He holds the Bible like a newborn baby, cradling it and gently caressing the black leather-bound front with faded gold inscription as a new father might do with the face of his child.

"It's had more royal treatments than a Rolls Royce," he jokes. And it's true. He's spent a better part of two weeks working his hand-spun magic on this published work that probably dates back to about 1885.

"The process of this is to preserve as much of the original binding as possible," he says. "But sometimes it's hard and it's -- goodbye."

Such is the case with this Edison Bible. He pulls out an envelope and shows the remnants of the binding. It crumbles in his hands and he shakes his head as a doctor might when discussing the terminal illness of a patient.

He's a doctor of sorts, fixing what needs to be corrected through his paper and binding "healing" techniques.

"It's like invisible mending," he says, but notes "You need to make it look old, or it will look ridiculous."

And just like the medical field, this process is not for the faint of heart.

Just looking around his place of business, one can see there's more than one tool to his trade. Hundreds of antique tools line one wall of his office. Most are solid brass and passed down from his father and grandfather who were both in the business of bookbinding.

There are a variety of vises around the room, some small and a couple that are the size of kitchen appliances. The office is cluttered but clean. Ravenhill has a collection of specialty leather for binding in one corner (opposite the tool wall) along with a rainbow of ribbon for bookmarks. On another side of the room he has colorfully marbled handmade paper he uses for the inside of book covers. And on every table surface there are pictures -- dozens of them. Some in albums, others loose, but all depict the stages of each of his bookbinding jobs.

"I've been doing this since I was a sweet 14," he says and winks. "Now I'm just sweet."

Speaking of pictures, there's a black-and-white one tacked to the wall next to his tools. It's a young Ravenhill, hard at work when he was an apprentice in the 1950s.

"I'm 66 now," he says. "And I'm still learning what I'm doing here."

That's hardly the case, according to those who know his work.

"We're lucky he's a trained professional," says Pamela Miner, curator of Education and Collections for the Edison & Ford Winter Estates. Following the Bible refurbishing, she hopes to have Ravenhill do some needed work on other paper-based materials at the estate.

As for this Edison Bible, it's going on display as soon as possible in a glass case in an area of the museum called "Family, Friends and Fun" so all can admire Ravenhill's labor of love.

How Ravenhill got the Bible in the first place is an interesting tidbit. He spied the little beauty a while back while on a tour of the Edison & Ford Winter Estates. He knew then it needed work. But it wasn't until Fort Myers Mayor Jim Humphries entered his business that Ravenhill mentioned, "It really needs my attention."

It seemed like a good idea all around, but when Ravenhill mentioned it needed probably thousands of dollars worth of attention, nothing ever became of it.

About a year later Ravenhill decided he really wanted to be the one to work on the Edison Bible. It had such history. He even figured, maybe he could do it for free. He went to Fort Myers City Hall and said he'd do whatever work was necessary on the Bible as a thank you for all those Southwest Florida residents who have kept him in business.

"This little Fort Myers shop of mine has given me work from all over," he says.

There wasn't any reaction to his proposal until a few months ago. And then it happened quite quickly. The rest is history.

That's how his business goes, though.

"I do get some unusual requests," Ravenhill says. One time a magician came to him and wanted a book of his to look like a black spade card from a card deck.

Then there was an ominous phone call one day from a woman who insisted he come to see her. He was so engrossed in his work this particular day, he didn't bother to ask where she lived. When she started giving him directions, he stopped dead. "'That's Miami,' I told her," he says. She said of course it was and that if he came she'd make it worth his while in books.

He made the house call and ended up knee deep in diaries of the Hoover family.

"We were on it for six to seven months," he says of the water-damaged diaries owned by the granddaughter of the Hoover vacuum fortune.

Ravenhill revels in telling dozens of other similar tales. "We do get some nice names," he says.

But it's not the names that keep him working 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. daily. It's a love of books and history, plain and simple.

"There's no way I'm going to retire," he says. "The clients keep me busy." Plus, he adds with another wink, "I have a fun life here."