SALE OF THE CENTURY
Years ago before we were into auctions and I was actually too young to attend them, there was what I would call the sale of the century in a township bordering mine. A middle aged couple had both died and an auction was necessary to settle their estate, as they had no children. The sad part of the whole thing was that the wife shot and killed her husband and then shot herself the same day. It was a murder suicide.
I was told that the milkman wondered what happened when he came to pick up milk one morning and there was none. He heard the cows bellering up a storm. The milkman knocked on the door and there was no answer, so he called the sheriff’s department. When they arrived they found a bloody scene in the couple’s bedroom.
In addition to a crime scene, they found money stashed about the house in fruit jars, money in their car’s glove box, money in trunk of their car, and fruit jars full of coins in the outhouse. They counted over $40,000 worth of cash when they were finished searching, and this got the neighbors buzzing.
One of our friends knew the cash story was all very true, as he’d recently visited with the husband who bragged about having a bucket full of coins in the trunk of his car. He said, “Bud, if you can lift that bucket you can have it… On second thought, forget it!” Bud was a big burly fellow and he was more than ready to pick up that bucket, but he never got the chance.
So with all the gossip flying, when the day came for the estate auction you can imagine how large the crowd was there and the excitement that flew through the air. Everyone was wondering where there might be more money.
One man bought a stack of oats in the barn and after pitching it all up to haul it away he was disappointed at finding nothing but the oats themselves. Another man bought an old clock and when he went to take the back off of it after purchasing it, he noticed the screws were all shiny.
My husband’s uncle bought an old mounted whitetail deer head. He took the head off the wooden plaque and found nothing inside of it but straw.
I don’t know if anyone found any more money in items they purchased at that auction. But prices were high as well as hopes that day. When the house was sold the story was that the new owners tore all the plaster off the walls inside. If they found anything they never told.
Our friend, Bud, gave us an idea of where this couple did have more money buried in their yard. But I’m not going to tell you. For all I know it is still there to this day, waiting for me to come and find it!
In my opinion, with all the excitement, anticipation, and the flurry of people at that auction, I’m guessing it was the sale of the century. I’m sure the auctioneer and the heirs made a good profit, despite the tragedy that caused it to occur.
FOR THE LOVE OF A TAMARACK
Nature’s change of season tree
Overlooked so oft’ by most,
Its branches bare in lowland swamps,
Is winter’s woodland ghost.
It comes to life in springtime,
With green needles soft as a kitten.
Tiny pine cones dot its branches;
Touch the needles and you’re smitten.
It blends in with the evergreens,
In all of summer’s glory.
You’d swear it’s always like this,
If you didn’t know its story.
But like no other tree in fall,
Its needles turn to gold.
You see it and it roots itself,
Within your heart and soul.
So if you’ve never noticed one,
When autumn comes just look,
In October for the golden trees,
Near lowland marsh or brook.
Then remember where you spotted them,
And take a hike in springtime,
To touch their needles, soft and green,
And you’ll be smitten, big time!
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