Since I've started going to these estate sales, I've noticed a bit of a "sad" trend. "Kids" ... and I mean adult kids, don't seem to care about mom and dad's life. I don't mean whether or not they're living ... I mean things that meant something to them. I go to these estate sales and sometimes it saddens me to see all the stuff laid out to be picked through by strangers and purchased for pennies. Many of these sales I attend, the family never even bothered to visit the home ... they're too busy with their own lives ... just don't care ... or both. Most times, mom ... or dad ... whomever was the last to go, passes and all the family cares about is getting the house emptied out so it can be sold and the proceeds distributed. They simply call a local estate sale company, mail 'em a key and tell 'em to go in and clear the place out. They could care less what's in the house ... other than it's cash value on the real estate market.
I go into these houses and they are completely available ... by that I mean, I can dig through dresser drawers, kitchen cabinets, boxes, trunks ... act like I live there, pick what I want. It seems so undignified in a way ... but so be it. My problem, I pay too much attention to the details and try to imagine what the people were like who lived there. It's not too hard to do ... you can see what "he" collected and you can see what "her" passion was. Collections of (insert ANYTHING you can think of here) that took a lifetime to accumulate ... all laid out for the picking. I see boxes and boxes of family photos/home movies ... weddings ... the kids growing up ... family vacations ... the whole history of the last inhabitants ... usually ending up in a dumpster after the sale.
I once attended a sale at the old Edenfield house here in town ... the street it's on is Edenfield Place, I assume, named after the family (?). I used to go to the Sebring race every year with my dad ... 1966 was the only year I didn't go (I was 14) and we moved away in 1967. Anyway, there was a terrible accident on the course in 1966 and I remember we didn't even know about it until the next day. (if interested, here's the report) http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1966_12_Hours_of_Sebring Three members of the Edenfield family were killed that year ... and here I am, 48 years later in the house where those people lived! (the father and 2 sons were killed, the mother never remarried and stayed in the house until she passed) I found an old child's, moth eaten wool suit (old, yellowed shirt, coat, pants and belt) in a closet and asked the people putting on the sale if they knew anything about it. They said it belonged to the little boy that was killed at Sebring and the mother kept it all these years. I asked what they'd do with it and was told it would more than likely be thrown away ... who would buy it? I told them I'd take it and they said I could have it for $1.00. It's still hanging in my office ... right next to my desk. I have no clue why. I don't even know what to do with it, but I just couldn't see it going into the garbage. It meant something to this lady and I feel I should preserve it. Weird huh?
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Today, I attended a sale and was digging through a box on a closet shelf. It contained a packet of letters dated 1944. There were only 6-7 letters tied together with a blue ribbon, but I was drawn to it and sat on the edge of the bed to look through them. They were "love letters" from a guy named Phil who was in France during WWII. (Normandy?) Anyway, I read them and there was the usual I miss you's ... but they were "touching" ... clean and proper "love letters". He also described his "accommodations". He was living in a foxhole, 5' deep and had a pup tent covering the top to keep out the rain. He described how he dug a trench around the tent to funnel off the water (something I learned in Boy Scouts). One letter expressed his excitement as he got to shake "the General's" hand the day before. (Eisenhower?) Handwritten on the face of the last envelope were the words, "Last letter from Phil ... he was killed 4 days later." Although this lady had been married for almost 70 years ... she kept these letters from her first love. Now they were headed for the trash bin if nobody bought them. I took them to the lady running the sale and asked, "How much?" She quoted me $5.00! Huh? (I didn't know her) I laid them on the diningroom table and figured I'd check to see if they were still there when I was ready to leave. They were gone and I was told some woman bought them! The family didn't care about them, but I'm glad they didn't get thrown away. (I'd have bought them if they'd still been there)
I'm not sure what the point of this post is. I do know that I used to love collecting "stuff" ... but when I thought about it, there's nobody in my family who shares the same passions I do ... so I've sold my "collections" on eBay and am using the money to pay bills and take short vacations from time to time. At the same time, I'm selling OTHER people's collections that THEIR family has no interest in ... also to help pay bills and take short vacations. Over the past few years I've done some soul searching and actually started wondering what the point is to "collecting". I always enjoyed it ... but looking back, it makes no sense in a way. But then again, if OTHER people didn't collect stuff, I wouldn't be able to sell anything and would not be able to pay for the cruise we're getting ready to take the end of this month.
Sorry for the Thump post ... I just felt like rambling tonight.
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