Written by the TreasureGuide for the exclusive use of treasurebeachesreport.blogspot.com.
From Sedwick Coins.
Consign to Treasure, World and U.S. Coin Auction #19 (May 18-19, 2016)
Now is the time to consign to our Treasure, World and U.S. Coin Auction #19. Our spring auction is already shaping up to be another great sale, with plenty of time still to include your consignments. The deadline is February 26, 2016 Click here for more information on how to consign.
As this time we are seeking shipwreck coins, ingots and artifacts (well documented and properly conserved), and important gold and silver Latin and Colonial coins (singles or collections).
Also keep in mind that for qualifying consignments WE WILL TRAVEL TO YOU to discuss and take delivery of your items. There is no better place than our auctions to sell TREASURE, COBS and LATIN AMERICAN material.-to
It is funny how some things impress you along the journey of life. There are some things you always remember. For me, a lot of those things are new experiences or "firsts." Those memories are special even if nobody else remembers or cares.
Long ago and far way, there were rolling tree-covered hills - not snow covered mountains, but big hills that would take a school bus several minutes to climb before descending into the valley and starting up the next hill.
If you climbed a tree on top of one of those hills you'd see nothing but tree-covered hills in every direction.
On top of one of those hills was a new high school, and capping the flattened top of the next hill was a football field. On one Friday night that hill, unlike any other in the county, was lit by stadium lights. A bunch of farm boys suited up to meet a bunch of kids from a not too distant mining town.
It must have been a strange site from space. One hill among many shined out on that cold night.
When I kicked an extra point at one end of the field, I remember the ball sailing out of the light and into the darkness at the open end of the field. Bed Bug, the team water-boy and one of my childhood friends, was out there to retrieve the ball. I could see him only dimly just outside the brightness of the stadium lights. That image is fresh in my mind.
Much later on, in the closing seconds of the game with the score tied, the fullback, heading directly at me, missed the hand-off and fumbled the ball right at me. I fell on it to make the recovery, and trotted off to the bench.
Sometime during the game it began to snow, The snow was coming down hard, and it was blowing up over the hill and directly through the goal posts at the end zone near the entrance.
Coach called time-out, found me on the bench and told me to go in and kick a field goal. I wasn't expecting that. It was the first field goal attempt of our school's short history. It was a little less than forty yards and easily within my range.
I lined it up. It wasn't that far. I wasn't worried about distance, but wanted to get it between the uprights.
The kick was up. I heard the roar of the home crowd. I couldn't see where the ball went as it disappeared into the blowing snow, but I remember the roar.
The roar of the crowd faded. I didn't take into account the wind. The ball fell just under the horizontal bar, and the referee signaled "no good."
If you wonder why I'm telling you this, just hold on a few seconds.
Every story has an end. Bedbug went to Vietnam a few months later. Vivian, who I knew all my life and was a cheerleader that night, passed away a couple of years ago, as did her husband who I knew from first grade.
I tell you this for a reason, and the reason isn't simply to share my story. Like I said, nobody really cares. I'm probably the only one that remembers. Maybe my dad would remember, but he is gone. It isn't a big deal to me, even though I remember it so well.
My main point today is that artifacts aren't just objects. They were once a part of some one's life. They meant something to someone even if they aren't important historically or valuable. Some were more important than others, and some not at all.
|My Football Shoes From the Sixties.|
I still have those football shoes. They went with me to college too, but they are more precious to me today because my dad got them for me, and I didn't realize at the time how little money he had. I now think back on it and think about how he was scouted by major colleges when he was a sophomore in high school, but he had to work and dropped out of school. He did well for me, more than I knew or appreciated at the time.
When you dig up an engagement ring, you can assume that it was probably very important to someone. But there are other objects that might seem cheap and insignificant, yet they could have been very important to someone.
I really experienced that last Christmas when I found some cheap little Christmas figures that my grandma always used to create a Christmas scene on her buffet beside the table where we ate our dinner on Christmas Eve. Among those objects were some cheap plastic reindeer's, most with a broken antler, but those raindeers and the other cheap little figures I found this year were more precious to me than the new expensive gifts that I received.
Back to my point, artifacts aren't just objects. They were a part of at least one person's life. And even if the object doesn't look like much to you, it could have been really important to them.
There is always a story. The story might be some important part of history, or it might be a very personal thing, but it is important to remember that there is a story behind it.
By the way, those shows are over fifty years old, which means if you found them on state lands, they would be old enough to qualify as protected historic artifacts.
We had lightning and rain this morning, but it ended up being a beautiful day.
No significant changes on the beach to report.