The Strange Enterprise of Antique Hunting

THE STRANGE, STRANGE ENTERPRISE OF ANTIQUE HUNTING

ITEMS FOUND THAT CAN BE THE PROVERBIAL "GAME CHANGERS" AND EMBARRASSING

     WITHOUT QUESTION, SITTING IN A RETAIL ENVIRONMENT, CAN BE BORDERLINE SUFFOCATING FOR SOME ANTIQUE DEALERS. THAT'S ONE OF THE REASONS MANY HOBBY OR "ATTIC" DEALERS PREFER TO LET MALL STAFF LOOK AFTER THEIR BOOTH SALES. IT'S A LOT LESS EXPENSIVE AS WELL, WITHOUT ALL THE RESPONSIBILITIES OF RENTING A STOREFRONT. THERE ARE TIMES WHEN RUNNING A SHOP CAN BE EXCITING, BUT NOT AS ADVENTURE-FILLED AS BEING AN ON-THE-ROAD-AGAIN ANTIQUE HUNTER. SOMETIMES YOU'RE LEFT LAUGHING, AND OTHER TIMES, ON THE VERGE OF TEARS. MANY ESTATES WE'RE ASKED TO VISIT, ARE DUE TO TRAGIC, UNEXPECTED CIRCUMSTANCES, AND I'VE HAD A LOT OF OCCASIONS, WHEN I WOULD HAVE PREFERRED TO BE ANYTHING BUT AN ANTIQUE DEALER.
     DON'T GET ME WRONG. I HAVE MOST CERTAINLY ENJOYED BEING ASKED TO VISIT HOMES TO SEE UNUSUAL AND BEAUTIFUL COLLECTIONS OF ANTIQUES AND COLLECTIBLES, FOR POSSIBLE ACQUISITION. I HAVE PURCHASED ALL KINDS OF NEAT PIECES FROM OLD FARMSTEADS, OF WHICH I WAS A GUEST, AND OLD VICTORIAN HOMES THAT MOST DEFINITELY WERE "SPIRITED." BUT SEEING AS I LIKE THAT KIND OF PARANORMAL OPPORTUNITY, I'VE NEVER ACTUALLY RUN OUT OF ANY OF THESE "FRIENDLY" HAUNTED HOUSES, WITHOUT EXCEPTIONAL ANTIQUES IN TOW. THE MORE EERIE THE HOUSE APPEARS, TO ME AT LEAST, THE MORE LIKELY I'M GOING TO FIND AN OWNER, OR THE ESTATE OF ONE, WHO POSSESSES (OR DID ONCE POSSESS, IN THE CASE OF THE DECEASED) FAMILIAR ECCENTRICITIES DEAR TO MY WILD HEART.  THERE ARE TIMES I HAVE HAD TO EXCUSE MYSELF, IN CASES WHEN THE ABODE IS UNCLEAN, AND A HEALTH HAZARD. THIS HAS BEEN RARE, BUT I WON'T BUY ANYTHING THAT I BELIEVE IS CONTAMINATED, EVEN THOUGH THE ITEM MIGHT BE SALVAGEABLE. I JUST DON'T TAKE CHANCES WITH BED BUGS OR LICE THAT CAN GET INTO ALL KINDS OF UPHOLSTERED FURNITURE. I WOULD FEEL HORRIBLE, IF I PASSED ON BUGS TO A CUSTOMER, IN A VICTORIAN CHAIR OR SETEE. I SPEND A LOT OF TIME CHECKING THESE THINGS OUT, BEFORE HAULING THEM HOME. BED BUGS CAN WIND UP IN CLEAN ENVIRONMENTS AND THRIVE ON THEIR HUMAN VICTIMS. IT SURPRISINGLY EASY TO TRANSPORT A VARIETY OF BUGS FROM ONE HOME TO ANOTHER, EVEN IN SECOND HAND CLOTHING.
   I WROTE A COLUMN ABOUT THIS ONCE, AND AN AUCTIONEER FROM NORTH MUSKOKA WAS SO PISSED OFF WITH ME, THAT HE PULLED THE ADS FROM OUR NEWSPAPER IN RETALIATION. AS HE POINTED OUT, HE SOLD LOTS OF UPHOLSTERED ITEMS, INCLUDING OLD MATTRESSES. ALL I HAD INTENDED TO DO, WITH THE WARNING, WAS TO ADVISE ALL THOSE WHO BUY THESE ITEMS, ON THE REBOUND, TO MAKE DARN SURE THEY ARE CLEAN OF BUG INFESTATIONS. THE BUGS DO OFFER SIGNS OF INHABITATION, JUST NO HANDWRITTEN WARNINGS FOR US TO READ. I WAS RIGHT. HE WAS JUST REACTING TO WHAT HE PERCEIVED AS A WARNING AGAINST BUYING ANYTHING CLOTH COVERED, WHICH WASN'T THE CASE AT ALL. HE DID EVENTUALLY RETURN HIS ADS, AFTER HE COOLED DOWN, AND REALIZED I WASN'T STATING ANYTHING OUTRAGEOUS, OR SOMETHING THAT WOULD HURT HIS BUSINESS. IT WAS SIMPLY A "BUYER BEWARE," ADVISORY, BY SOMEONE WHO HAS SEEN BUG-HAVENS THAT WOULD MAKE YOU GAG. I FOUND A PAIR OF GREAT OLD-TIME HOCKEY SHIN PADS, WITH WOOL PADDING, THAT HAD SO MANY BUGS, THEY WERE FALLING OFF BY THE HUNDREDS, JUST BY LIGHT HANDLING. YOU DON'T WANT THIS IN YOUR HOUSE. I SAW A NICE OLD FUR MUFF WITH THE SAME INFESTATION ONCE, AND THEY HAD EATEN ALL THE LINING RIGHT UP TO THE ACTUAL FUR. IT FELL APART IN MY HANDS.

Finding stuff that wasn't known.....previously

     Antique dealers have to possess a good sense of humor. They need to be well versed in theatre of the absurd. And they must always be prepared for the unexpected, and that can border on "Twilight Zone" things happening with, for example, an estate collection, where there are fighting siblings, nasty aunts and uncles, and malicious cousins. And of course, disagreeable spouses, who may not have appreciated the terms of the will, and dispersal of money and heirlooms. I've been involved in estate purchases that were completely nuts, where you never knew what angry person was going to appear on the scene next, with some claim on the pieces you were trying to purchase. It happened this way at an auction once, at a Muskoka farmstead, and it made everyone, not just the dealers in attendance, very uneasy about the actions and reactions of opposing family members. I would definitely say this was the most uncomfortable auction situation, I've found myself in, during the past 35 years in the antique trade. The client managed to convince the auctioneer that everything was above board, and the sale carried out despite protest by other family members. They tried a number of tactics to stop the bidding, but when that didn't work, they just started bidding everyone up, for certain pieces, and actually buying back their heirlooms. Many items I purchased that day were sold back to the family for cost, just to get rid of the bad vibe associated with the vintage art panels and quilts. I'm not sure if they're talking to one-another yet, in that family, but it was just one of those unfortunate issues that creates animosity all round. Dealers often find themselves stuck in the middle, like the song, and it's always uncomfortable.
   Even when there isn't an auction attached, the same interaction can occur, when uninvited kin show up, at the same time as purchased items are being loaded into our boxes. Makes for some interesting actuality, as insults are exchanged, and threats of legal action are uttered loudly, like shotgun blasts, intended to insult and injure. I have, in the past, withdrawn my purchase agreement, at that time, until the impasse resolves. I don't want these unhappy campers showing up where I'm selling antiques, informing me I'm displaying stolen property. They like to make scenes. Usually in front of an audience of store visitors. Not that I am selling stolen items, just that in their misguided opinion, having been snubbed in the family will, they thought the heirloom pieces should have been left to them instead. Finding them on our store shelf is pretty upsetting. There are times that I side with them, but I really don't have a side to stand on, to be honest, other than never, ever, dealing with estate dispersals. Seeing as they can be a huge part of our business, it's tough on the small business economy, to limit exposure to these opportunities. You just learn how to be conciliatory to all sides.
     Most of the time, these estate scenarios are much, much calmer and well organized by the person, or group of family members charged with the responsibility of dispersal. Often it is the person who inherited the estate, who will call us to pick up some items they want rid of from a wide variety of sheds, barns, basements, attics and clogged bedrooms, where there isn't room to swing even a small cat. And with these more agreeable, less aggressive buy-sell opportunities, antique dealers still have to be enormously sensitive to the conditions, by which all this has been rooted, and come to fruition in the first place. We have to be very careful about addressing the situation of the deceased, and try as much as possible to carry on the sorting work, without having to extend sympathy a dozen or more times, because somehow, with a slip of the tongue, we've brought back some precious family memory that rekindles the sorrow.....with tearful sobs. Many times, a piece will evoke some special remembrance, and you just have to be patient, and listen to the reminiscence, and nod accordingly that, yup, "they were good times." I always think of my own boys having to do this with my stuff one day, and having more laughs than tears, recalling how I got certain pieces of my private stash....that just has to be sold to pay off my lifetime of excesses. "Dad was a card wasn't he?"
     One of the most important rules of conduct, taking care of estates, and or portions of inheritances that are offered for sale, is that occasionally, something pops up, you, and everyone else didn't expect. Like a copy of a different "Last Will", deep inside a jammed drawer of paper, no one had bothered to empty before they decided to sell the dresser to us. Or finding the stash of old love letters, or notes from a love child, dating back to a wee fling in Europe during the war. We hate it when we come across something sensitive like this, that family should have found first, if they had taken their responsibilities more seriously.....than just smiling and high-fiving after they find out they've inherited the works. I have had to hand quite a bit of correspondence back to folks, who stood in front of me, reading the notes, letters, and invoices, chin on chest, with reddening of the face......muttering, "I don't believe this," and on one occasion, "That son of a bitch."
Not something you'd expect to hear from a mourning spouse. On the other hand, how would you react, finding out your deceased husband had been carrying on a multi-decade affair with your sister? Makes for interesting family gatherings after this. I don't read the material first, before handing it over, and most of the time I'm long-gone out of the driveway before the yelping commences.
     We had a scenario in our own family, that didn't involve infidelity or indiscretion of any kind. It was kind of a sad situation, in fact, when cleaning out a packed garage, as part of a family estate, we uncovered a huge stash of book club packages of all shapes and sizes, that had been purposely camoflaughed to avoid detection. There must have been three or four hundred unopened packages tossed onto that corner pile, and we had no choice but to inform his daughter that dear old dad had a wee problem cancelling his montly book club order. It was this case exactly. Her father could not get the book distributor to cease and desist, from sending books and prizes to his home, and he'd simply given up trying to negotiate with the company.....and the bills kept piling up month after month. His daughter was devestated that her father would have had to deal with this problem alone, too embarrassed to seek assistance from family members.
     Although I wasn't involved in this particular conundrum, and it wasn't an estate, but the sale of a building and its subsequent demolition, a local dealer interested in some of the architectural antiques got an eye-full when he attended the site one afternoon. When they knocked out a wall, while the gent was picking up some old wood trim off a pile of debris, the tractor operator started yelling out, "What the hell is all that?" Punching a hole in the wall, to get a hold on the wood frame, revealed a particularly large and colorful wad of women's underwear. Hundreds of pairs. All shapes and sizes. Right where a former owner had tucked them away for safe keeping. The story was, a laundry thief, had been hitting local backyard lines for years, swiping panties in the misty moonlight. He'd been seen but never actually apprehended. There was a small unused (bypassed) vent where the panties were stuffed, and when the lower end of the wall was penetrated, well, the gotchies came tumbling out. It was later revealed, the underwear bandit like to wear them. Hey, that's just fine, except the stealing-them part. It was more disturbing because all parties were still alive, including the victims, and well, you know what they say about small towns, and the grapevine. I'm sure family would have preferred handling this demolition themselves. It's the same with estates, where family has a chance, long before the dealer shows up, to get rid of the sensitive material, ahead of our fine-comb sleuthing turns up something or other that is incriminating to the deceased, and ultimately, a source of embarrassment to the estate.
     I purchased a couple of nice crocks from an estate, one day, about a dozen years ago. One of the small, wide-mouthed crocks, had a terribly ugly bunch of plastic flowers. I tried to take them out of the crock at the house, where the estate was being settled, but the lady in charge insisted buying the crock meant I had to dispose of the flowers myself.....and not on her newly inherited property. When I got home, I found a bag of old coins in the bottom, that this same lady's father had tucked away for safe keeping....but hadn't kept a record of his hiding place. I suspect, as I've seen many times before, that the coins had been brought back from Europe, after the end of the Second World War. As I didn't buy the coins, and I thought they might have some sentimental value, I returned to the estate sale, and offered them back to the woman. She said something like "oh wow," and turned away from me entirely, and tucked them up on a shelf in the garage. I sort of thought there would be a "thank you" attached to the return, but she went right on to the next sale transaction, without even giving me an approving nod. I had this happen with a local thrift shop, and the only difference was that I did get a feeble thank you, but no chance to bid on the coins. I did ask if I could bid on them, when they assessed what they had in the bag, but they never contacted me, if they did eventually sell-off the small coin collection.
     The point is, there are times when it just isn't right, to hold onto unexpected finds like this, unless it is clear, everything in a pile, a room, a garage, barn or house is for sale for one price.....inclusive of those little finds we dealers make all the time. Even at auctions, especially at old farms where there are outbuildings, you can bid on "picker's" or "scrounger's rights," to everything remaining in the buildings, except the actual structure itself. A consciencous estate handler should comb the estate for hidden treasures, well before selling-off the contents. Many do check, and this is good for all of us, because we aren't then burdened by moral decisions, about whether or not, we are the rightful owners, or obligated to return found objects. Sensitive letters etc., should always be returned, (if not actually known about previously), that are inadvertently included in the sale. Some estates simply don't care about these items they consider "after the fact," and insignificant. I have destroyed many of these letters, even though the family couldn't care less about their existence. I feel an obligation to the deceased to get rid of them. I told you this before. I speak to dead people. I just don't like them yelling at me from the other side......demanding that I do the right thing with their packet of letters, confessing their unyeilding love for someone.....well, who wasn't supposed to be so intimately and passionately connected to dear old dad or mom.
     One hiding place, most often over-looked, is the "family Bible." Believe it or not, it is one of the most popular places to hide documents, letters, and even money. Books generally, are perfect for hiding sensitive and important paper items, and I've found huge amounts of paper heritage, historic invoices, photographs, newspaper articles, and even hockey and baseball cards, pressed into the text for safe keeping. As Suzanne and I are major collectors (and historians) of handwritten recipes, you wouldn't believe how many we can find tucked into even one well-used vintage cookbook. I had one a few weeks ago, that took me most of an hour, to unload of its paper cargo; ten or so folded neatly in between favorite pages. We have quite a large drawer full of handwritten recipes, almost entirely found in these beat-up old farmstead cookbooks. Some of the recipes go as far back as the 1850's, and are written on every kind of paper product imaginable, including the backs of death notices and "in memoriam" cards. That's the fun of being an antique hunter.      You just never know what you're going to find out there, in a wide variety of interesting places. While scrounging once in an old garage, to find something neat to buy off the owner, I moved one box on an upper level, and found eight eyes looking back to me, with companion growling. They may have only been a family of raccoons, living in the building, but it was the happenstance part that nearly stopped the old heart. I've seen spiders so big, geez, you could make a horror movie with them.
     I remember attending a home, subject of estate settling, and meeting up with the daughter-in-law of the deceased, who was so drunk, I didn't feel comfortable making any business deals involving estate items. Her husband came in, and was just about as "snapped" with whisky, so I got bookended, so to speak, and actually, just to get out of there, I made a deal on an old Morris chair on wheels, with an adjustable back, that the man's grandmother used as a wheelchair. I didn't really want it, but it got me out of the house. I kept that chair for about twenty years just as a reminder of how tricky it can get, being an antique dealer, with many strange circumstances, in very strange places.
     I've got plenty of antique hunting stories to share. Please join me, if you've got the stomach for it. Some of the adventures can get a little raunchy, especially when called to certain houses, where, without knowing it, you are the intended entertainment. As far as uncomfortable situations, only the Cable Guy has more stories than the antique dealer.
     Thanks for visiting today's blog. Please visit again soon!