This weekend I had a little time to unwind and I did so by attending a ten-hour event. You might say, "That doesn't sound much like unwinding time?" Well, the event was an auction.
Most people who know me well, realize that I have a need to go coastal from time-to-time. Yes, being an island boy by birth, salt water lapping on a seashore is the soundtrack of my life.
This particular auction I attended was to sell the personal duck decoy collection of a man who recently passed away and who lived near my North Carolina childhood home. The event lasted a part of two days, because there were over 700 items to auction off. Most of the items were handmade duck decoys that date back as far as the late 1800's. (And this was only about 1/3 of his items. Another auction is planned for February to sell the rest.) One root-head shorebird from an unknown Harkers Island carver went for $4,500.
I sat alone in the gallery dressed very casual and wearing a ball cap. Of the 150 or so who attended the auction I may have personally known 25, but many of them didn't realize it was even me because I just sort of blended in with the other waterfowl enthusiasts. Besides, no one expected me to be there. So, it was indeed quiet time to unwind, as you can probably now imagine.
I admit that I personally have a modest collection of waterfowl items and some knowledge of the decoy folk art world. But what I learned at the auction was something beyond folk art value. I watched as those who appeared to be investment-minded millionaires biding against sentimental family members for these one-of-a-kind, historically significant items. It was heart-wrenching because the family members were among the 25 or so that I personally knew.
You see, in his lifetime, it appears that the collector of many treasured decoys left most of his family at the fringes and held onto the collection for himself. After his death, I'm guessing that his left-behind wife really didn't know what to do, so rather than distributing the desirable items to extended family, she simply decided to put mostly all of them up for public auction.
So, I sat there experiencing all kinds of emotions during the event, especially feeling for the family members who would occasionally bid in hopes that they might hear the gavel fall quickly and be able to afford a piece of the cherished folk art. However, their success rate wasn't very high. With glassy eyes, more often than not, they shook off the auctioneer as the price-range exceeded their ability to realistically purchase.
In the midst of all of my hurt for the family members, I suddenly learned that I was among them. Say what? Yes, I discovered that there was actually one decoy, in the lot of some 700, that had belonged to my great, great uncle Ammie Willis, whom I never met. Suddenly, I felt the pain of thinking that a stranger would probably walk away with something that had once rightfully belonged to our family.
At about 10:30 a.m. on Saturday, Day #2, the auctioneer introduced "Lot #35. A Wooden Redhead Duck Decoy from the Hunting Rig of Ammie Willis." Goose bumps ran up and down my spine. Emotions I had previously known nothing about arose from somewhere deep within my being.
I was the first bidder and seemingly the final bidder, too. But just when it looked as if I would actually win the close-to-my-heart, Willis-family, folk art piece and at the modest price of $125......?
"HE" walked in and sat in the row directly in front of me. "HE" immediately raised "HIS" hand and I knew by the casual way "HE" bided, that timing had not been on my side.
My eyes quickly glanced at the other family members across the aisle for moral support. They frowned in pain as one whispered in my direction, "We're so sorry."
I took a deep breath, looked back at the auctioneer and gave the thumbs up to raise my bid to $175. I was back in the hunt. Finally, a dozen twenty-five-dollar bids later, the gavel came down and the auctioneer shouted: "SOLD to the gentlemen in the red cap!" There was silence in the room followed by mild applause.
So, the gentlemen wearing the red cap was now the owner of the 100-year-old Redhead duck decoy that my Uncle Ammie Willis had hunted over.
For the next ten minutes or so, I sat in the back row of the auction with a sick feeling in my stomach.
You see, the night before I had been wearing a blue cap, but on this Saturday morning I was indeed...... "the gentleman wearing the RED cap". So, now you know. My great, great Uncle Ammie's decoy came home with his great, great nephew. That's me.
Tomorrow, Monday, I will ride to Davis Shore, N.C. to see Uncle Ammie's grandson, Preston. My mom called to tell him about the prodigal decoy's unexpected return to our family.
I am going to see cousin Preston because when I was a boy, his mom, my Aunt Edna and Uncle Ammie's daughter, showed me a photo of Uncle Ammie duck hunting with his most famous decoy-toting friend -- THE "Babe Ruth". Yes, indeed, "the home-run-hitting Babe Ruth". Cousin Preston said I could copy the old photo so I can frame it beside my newest, old decoy.
Indeed, it's mine. I paid the high price to redeem it. Yes, it just seemed right to buy it back into the family.
My stomach feels much better now. I think it would have actually felt much worse if I hadn't paid the high price to gain back the old, seemingly lost, family heirloom.
So, here's what I learned at a high price: "Redemption doesn't come cheap, but the buyer knows deep inside, it's more than worth it."
The End...
Author's Note: This Saturday, I will be renting a table at our Kid's Harbor bazaar. I will once again be "the gentleman wearing the RED ball cap". If you buy something off my table, you will probably help my marriage. ;-) I told my wife I would work hard to recover the expense of my auction adventure. Ask me and I'll show you a photo of my folk art family treasure.
Grateful
