I selected this particular estate sale to look up early because the ad gave very precise directions and said ‘antiques’. It didn’t list anything but simply said “Everything goes!”.
That usually means that relatives have taken what they want and the rest is going at real bargain prices, usually just to clean out the house fast so that it can be sold. It’s the last step before the items are donated to charity. So the first buyer has the best chance of finding that ‘sleeper’ and asking “How much?”. Prices are often just pulled out of the air, if it’s fair you’ve got a deal, if it’s high you can counter with a lesser amount.
This particular sale was in a middle class house in a well maintained neighborhood. Probably a 1950’s tract house, built shortly after W.W. II. The sale was scheduled to start the next day. I saw a man and woman in the open garage and tables were heaped with all kinds of things. I also saw another dealer, already there!
A very knowledgeable woman in her 40’s, she makes her living buying and selling antiques. We’ve bumped into each other often over the years. She’s hard working and scouts out the sales early, the same as I do. She drives a weathered older van, but she has a newer van at home. I might point out that people who deal in antiques usually have more money than they might appear to have. They just don’t flaunt it.
This dealer beat me to this sale by only 10 minutes, but she had already scooped up a large pile of very good things. I found a few things that she had overlooked, including a very old teaddy bear which I bought for $50 and later sold for $200. I also met Mr. Cold and Cousin Greed.
Mr. Cold was the son selling his mother’s estate, a big man with thick glasses and a baby-face. A distant cousin and her husband had driven their RV down from Oregon to help out. The ad had said “Everything goes” and everything was surely out on the ground outside and on the floor inside the well maintained home. Absolutely nothing was too precious to sell.
The son, in his late 50’s, was a very polite person and seemed pleased to sell things very cheap just to clear them out. He told the other dealer and me that these things are the “last to go”. For two months he had been selling antiques and collectibles by placing ads in the newpaper. He clearly had enjoyed the experience and was pleased that so much had already sold. The really good things were mostly gone, but there were still good buys to be found in the heaps.
The helper and her husband had just arrived. They were pure greed. Not really knowledgeable in antiques, Cousin Greed waited for us to ask the price of something, and then priced the item much too high. The other dealer and I passed on those things, since it is difficult to counter-offer when there are two buyers interested in the same thing. It turns into an auction. People get competitive and stubborn, and often end up paying too much. So I just avoid the situation.
The son opted not to quote prices since, he smiles, “she says I give everything away”. Cousin Greed chimed in and agreed that son had sold things too cheaply before she got there but “I’m here now”. Over the next hour and a half (you cannot be in a rush) I poked and sorted through the mother’s worldly possessions; every closet, and every drawer. Everything exposed to strangers, to evaluate and wonder if it would be of interest to anyone, would it sell.
Holding up a tiny blanket, I asked Cousin Greed “How much?”. “One dollar”, she replied. “Fine, sold” I said, clutching the deal. I then pulled together all the tiny clothes and the other blankets into a neat pile on a chair. “How much for everything?” I asked. Cousin then gets greedy. “Oh, there’s a lot of nice baby clothes there, lets see, 12 pieces, that will be $25”. She had just doubled the price over the $1 baby blanket!
The other dealer obviously had passed over them before I got there (or didn’t see them) so I was on good ground for negotiations. “I’ll have to pass” I said, putting the items back on the floor where I found them. Cousin Greed then goes to fall-back position, “$20?” she asks. “No, I don’t think I could go that much”. “How much are they worth to you?” she askes. The game was mine! “I’ll go $15” I responded firmly. With apparent relief she quickly agreed, “OK, $15 it is!”.
Son watched with obvious amusement. His baby clothes, so treasured by his mother, haggled over and sold for $15. I bought the two worn dolls also. Don’t ask me why, I just wanted to rescue them off the floor. Then I turned to another heap on the floor.Everything was for sale. The mother’s collection of china dogs and souvenir spoons, Chrismas decorations, pictures off the wall and from out of family albums - her treasures from a lifetime. It seemed that the son had not a shred of sentimental attachment to anything. “Everything goes!” he repeated, smiling that cool and controlled smile. No emotion.
I thought he might still be in the grieving process, somewhat in shock. I was sure he’d later regret selling all of his mother’s treasures and his own. I felt compassion for the son, thinking he was really hurting under the cool exterior. But strangely, his eyes seemed animated and almost sparkling.
I asked the son what he did and he said that he had taught school for 33 years. No, he definitely did not miss teaching. In fact, he loved “doing nothing…no more kids”. An only son, he never married. He owns his own condo, complete with a dog, and has plans to sell his mother’s home as soon as possible.
The other dealer had finished her buying and had left. She doesn’t like to talk with the people. Only me there now, and I ask about jewelry. Cousin Greed says “We have jewelry but we’re not getting it out today.” “Why not?” asks the son. Cousin was nervous. I’m sure she wanted that jewelry for herself. But the son had called her hand. She went into the bedroom and came back with one small box. “Why don’t you bring out more?” he persisted. Cousin went back and returned with another small box. “Why don’t you set up a table and bring it all out?”, prodded the son, with that cool smile. Cousin had no choice. All the jewelry was brought out. Boxes and boxes and boxes, clearly his mother loved jewelry!
It was mostly costume jewelry but one box held some treasures; the son’s baby rings, carefully protected in their original boxes, his father’s gold wedding band, and mother’s wedding rings. But the stones were missing. “We had the diamonds removed” explained the son. Are these rings for sale?” I inquired. “Sure” he responded. “How much?” I asked. “That’s up to her” he replied, motioning to Cousin Greed. “All of them?” I persist, almost hoping that he would care enough to keep his mother’s wedding rings. “Yes, all of them. I don’t want to keep a thing.” He then announced that he was leaving.“I’m sorry about the loss of your mother” I offered. “I know how difficult it is.” “Oh, she isn’t dead, she’s in a convalescent home” he replied. Taken aback, I asked if she was bedridden or had a stroke. “Oh no, she gets around fine.”
Puzzled, I pursued the question. “How does she like it there?” “She doesn’t, she want’s to come home” he replies, “but not until they take care of some things like incontinence” he said firmly. And then he was gone.
I was stunned. The mother is alive and sitting in a convalescent home, and she want’s to come home! She probably thinks she will get out, and what of all her treasures? “She never threw anything away” mumbled Cousin Greed with disgust. The mother’s jewelry sat there, filling up a table.
I didn’t have much interest in buying this poor lady’s jewelry while she sits in a convalescent home a few miles away with incontinence as the biggest problem that her only son could think of for keeping her there. So instead, I played a game with Cousin Greed.
Knowing that she didn’t know the value of anything, I sorted the jewelry into three boxes: costume earrings (little value), rhinestone jewelry (looks expensive but now selling now), and a box with fake pearls and the rings. Cousin Greed thought I was interested in all three boxes. She pulled back the box of rhinestone jewelry and said she was going to take them home to get them appraised. I then passed on the earrings. By now she was worried that I wouldn’t buy any of the jewelry, and what would son say? We quickly struck a price for the box of fake pearls and old rings.
