2000-03-15 - 22:40:00 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Collector's Alley

My dad was a pretty savvy man. He had in a desultory way collected U.S. revenue stamps. The government printed revenue stamps were on every pack of cigarettes, every deck of cards. After repeal, revenue stamps were on every bottle of booze. There were even revenue stamps on every carton of pounds of olomargarine. All sorts of customs stamps, stamps for legal papers, stamps for almost any thing.

He decided that with the population increasing some of our coinage would be valuable in not too many years. He would bring ten pound sacks ( I think it was ten - or the appropriate number of pennies) home and we would sort out the Indian Head pennies. We also kept our eyes out for the older coins still in circulation. I would be sent to the creamery or drug store and was told to ask for change in Indian Head pennies, dad would sort, count and store the coinage. As he gathered quite a hoard he put them in a safety deposit box.

Looking at his revenue stamps the bug wiggled its way into my inner being and way of thinking and I started collecting stamps of the world. Oh how those stamps stirred me to imaginary travels. I pored over Scott's stamp and coin catalogue and learned about the countries where they had originated. Whether they were kingdoms, colonies, republics and emirates. The head count was shown also, and along the way I absorbed the rate of exchange compared to our dollar. The geographical aspect of the countries by the pictures on their stamps. I would go to the library near by and pore over the Atlases, learning more and more facts about them. I would look up history of the leaders and heroes of those countries and learn about their dress, their customs and traditions. From that activity I put enough in my head that I could turn in a written report on almost anything, making a trip to the library now and then to write down the references from the books already well studied.

My hobby led me into active trading with the other kids and many a spare hour was spent in that pursuit. We formed a stamp club at school and occasionally put on a stamp exhibit, which usually covered a country or a subject being studied at that time. They were tastefully arranged in patterns with attention given to avoid clashing colors. The stamps were behind glass in cheapie frames. Each student's arrangement was different in its aspect, stamps, colors and dealing with certain facets of life and commerce for that area.

I used to send away to the east coast for stamps on approval. They would arrive in a stout envelope holding several sheets of paper with stamps attached by stamp hinges. (translucent thin plastic like paper which had an adhesive that would not bother the new adhesive on the back of a an uncirculated stamp). I would eagerly look over the stamps offered, select from them stamps I wanted and could afford and put the money and other stamps back in the return envelope, put stamps on and take over by the stores and carefully put the envelope in the mail box. Then rush home and put my new stamps in their appropriate places in my album. All this was in a way the excitement that a latch key kid could have and still stay out of trouble. I had found a spot to fill and I occupied it. Kids would come over to the house in the early evening and we would trade stamps and later play 500 Rummy or Monopoly. Mom would come up with some little treat for us and we would do the question and answer bit with my dad and learn more about the things not taught formally in school.

I can see now how those things, along with the basic teachings by my folks had a lot to do with how I turned out.

Also, we boys were natural born scavangers in a depression world, our territory was Collector's Alley . . . . . . . .

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