The Hereditary Collector

Because maybe our desire to collect things & to chase after nostalgia, is genetic…

Here’s how a Saturday morning tradition led to a lifelong habit of collecting antiques – and mysteries.

“A family that antiques together, stays together.” No? Well, maybe they just collect a lot of old stuff and hope they don’t have to get rid of the cat in order to fit it all in the house.

In the story Finding Moxie, you met my mother-in-law Marilyn. In addition to being an inspiration – she likes old stuff! And she collects it…lots of it.

This is the moment where I tell parents that teaching your children about morals, values, and manners is important, but teaching them that antiquing is “cool” – is priceless.

As far back as she could remember, every Saturday morning, Marilyn and her parents would dress up in their finest, hop in the Woodie, and travel down New Jersey U.S. Route 9 to the Englishtown Flea Market.

The itinerary was as follows:

• Breakfast at a nearby diner
• Perusing, bargaining and shopping at the flea market
• Lunch
• A stop at Two Guys Discount Department Store for some more shopping
• Ride home: which usually consisted of a chair or some other large and view-obstructing item wedged in between her mother and father in the front seat. 

Marilyn’s tiny frame sat pressed against the door as a heavy box of porcelain and brass trinkets rested on her lap. Her right arm, immobile, as an oversized white marble slab with carefully carved round-bottomed cherubs commandeered the rear seat. Her mother tightly holding on to the wooden sled strapped to the rooftop luggage rack. A floor lamp with an orange flannel shade hung out the window, and the trunk – stuffed with boxes of old transistor radios, dolls, and a small coffee table – flapped up and down with every bump in the road as pieces of rope trailed behind them on their way home.

Her family’s vintage haul was extensive. When asked what they did with everything they bought, she simply stated “We kept it.” Years and years of stuff and she kept it?!  In just one house? 

Okay, so my gaping mouth and wide eyes may have demanded a bit of clarification (I told you I was dramatic). She explained “Some of it was mine. Some my parents. We collected it because it was stuff we liked but really it was just a chance for all of us to be together. For a long time, we went every single Saturday. Everyone knew that’s where we would be, all day, on Saturdays. We would just walk around for hours to see what people would bring in and, at the end of the day, if we liked something, we brought it home.”

Since the passing of her parents, Marilyn has had to sell and donate many of the larger items collected by them. “There was a whole house full of stuff! What was I going to do with it? I kept things that were special to me and reminded me of them.” 

As for Marilyn’s own taste in antiques, “I collected everything and anything Coca-Cola. I collected dolls, trains, books – some from the early 1800s. But even some of those I had to get rid of.”

And while you’re all probably gasping in horror at the thought of her parting with any of those things, don’t worry, she kept a few goodies. A few of her favorites were mix of her own childhood purchases and gifts from her parents.

After touring each room, opening each box, and watching her unwrap each treasure as she exclaimed “Oh, would you look at that” with the unmistakable look of nostalgia in her eyes, she then came across an item that generated a long and possibly tearful pause.

She sighed and then handed me…this.

Yes, it is a cassette tape. And while it might not appear vintage or antique in any way, to those of us who know what a Boombox is, the actual recording on this cassette will open up an entire Pandora’s Box of nostalgia for those of us who fancy history; falling in love; and tales of greed, sex, murder, & mystery! It’s got it all – the mother of all things vintage. But it’s not an easy story to tell and I’ll probably need your help. It’ll be fun. We’ll do some sleuthing. Stay tuned…It’s a story for another time.