I love to go to auctions. Unfortunately, more things are done online these days. I miss the fellowship, a found treasure, and sometimes a chance to help others.
As a young man I went to the auction of the estate of a local farmer who had been killed in a farming accident. A new drill that he had purchased a day or two before he died still had the store tag on it. $19.59. Bidding surpassed $100.00. Most of the items went the same way as neighbors provided a helping hand under the guise of an auction.
After I was married, my wife and I ran an antique store in Westfield. Most of our items were purchased at the local auctions we attended. It was a weekend adventure and a very enjoyable time of fellowship together. Go out for breakfast. Attend the auction. Go out for lunch. Move stuff to the store. Eat out for dinner. The store closed when children changed our priorities.
My children’s great-grandfather’s auction seemingly had few items of interest to me. There was one item. I was particularly interested in a charming little writing desk. It was in great condition and very well built. I looked for a manufacturer’s name on the underside and in the middle drawer but couldn’t find anything showing the source of the desk. I clearly wanted it. I vowed to myself to bid whatever it took. I knew exactly the short wall in our house where it could go. The style fit our 1858 farmhouse decoration. The coloring matched our other items. All systems were on go. Bidding started at $100. I didn’t want to seem too eager. Numerous cries of the auctioneer failed to elicit a bid so I signaled I would pay a dollar. Realizing that nobody else wanted it, the auctioneer struck it off to me immediately.
I was moving it to my vehicle when Great-grandpa John approached. “Oh, I see you bought Grandpa Long’s handmade desk.” A family heirloom, hand built by my children’s great-great-grandfather! An emotional treasure for only a buck.
My mom and dad also loved auctions. Dad paid $0.50 at a Markel, Ind., auction house for the dog bowl in use and placed just outside the entry door. That piece is now in the Heisey Museum in Newark, Ohio. Mom bought a miscellaneous box for $1 because she wanted a book in the box. She found $100 cash in the book.
I guess Forrest Gump was right. Auction life is a box of chocolates and you never know what you’re going to get.