He never would - or could - tell us where he found it or what made him pick it up.
All I know is he left home for work one day, and he came back with it tucked up under his arm. I was too young to remember much else except how excited he was to show it to Mama.
I don't know if he and Mama fought about it. The certain disgust in the way she eyed that thing suggested they probably did have a quarrel or two, but such things weren't brought up in my presence. And anyway, after a while, no one brought it up again. We were used to it, I guess. Wouldn't have mattered if we weren't.
It wasn't a pretty one or even an interesting one you might find at a rummage sale and buy on account of the kitsch. No, this was just a simple lamp without a shade or a bulb, not significant in any aspect of appearance other than its permanent position under his arm. No exaggeration, either. He carted that lamp with