So my grandpa was a pretty remarkable guy: a World War II hero who helped raise his eight siblings; someone who sailed to Cape Verde as a young man and took what’s believed to be the first documented film footage of his father’s homeland; a lifelong learner who took classes in gardening and such into his old age; a son of immigrants who achieved the American dream of home ownership and put his son through college … and also a pretty decent craftsman/woodworker.
One of the things he did was make me and my brothers each a large hand-carved wooden box when we were little. “Derek’s box” mine said on the side. As a kid I think my brothers and I sorta regarded them as treasure chests. Or at least I did. We’d open them up when we got to be adults and there’d be valuables inside!
As I got to be a teenager I lost interest in the box. And then my grandpa died in 1989, my senior year of high school. My grandmother died the following year, their house was sold and I didn’t even know where the box was. My father moved about six or seven times in the next few years and I sorta thought it may have been lost or something, but didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
So anyway, fast forward to last month. I finally get around to visiting my father in his new home — Austin, Texas. And what do I know but the box is there! A time capsule to myself from over two decades ago. Excitedly, I pulled it down from the shelf in the garage where it was and opened it up in the living room.
The contents were … odd. Lots of coins: mostly mint from 1973-80. Some worn ones in Gerber baby food bottles. Quarters and dimes in little saver cards. Old maps of Alaska, Mt. Everest and the USSR. A copy of the Constitution and various civics booklets from around the bicentennial. A $2 bill! A few little fossils. Newspapers from the day I was born (‘Nixon signs 20% Social Security boost’ — thanks, Dick), as well as the Blizzard of ’78, the bicentennial, and some 1977 fire in New Bedford. A July 5, 1776 copy of the Boston Sunday Globe that purported to be from 2076, imagining what life would be like then.
It was all so weird … And incredibly touching. I blinked away tears as I remembered my grandfather.
But there was nothing there, alas, that was all that personal. Of course what would have been really meaningful, what would have been really personal, would have been a letter or some photos. Nothing like that. Although my father had added his father’s high school yearbook to the box since my grandfather passed.
I flipped through the newspapers and hit the Interweb to see if the mint coins (proof sets) had any value. I couldn’t really tell… one year was apparently worth either $10 or $325, depending on some little squiggle.
I decided to just take some of the circulated coins and the yearbook home, and decide later what to do with the rest of the stuff. I thought about storing the coins somewhere but … I’m not really much of a coin collector. There were $6 in pennies, $5 in quarters and $3 in dimes. I took them in to a TD Bank and ran them through with the Penny Arcade … all except one Lincoln wheat cent.
I took the money and bought myself a sausage, egg and cheddar at Starbucks.
I hope my grandpa would have approved.
Your sister had a box too you know…. for some reason I remember that mine had one of my baby shoes in it…… I think we all got coins… I remember those too! But I’m guessing being the oldest and first grandchild yours had a lot more stuff in it…..although of course as the only granddaughter mine might have been special 😉
pretty cool. what did you do with the box itself?
The only granddaughter’s box is the biggest — and has different stuff. I think your grandfather didn’t know if/how those coins would appreciate in value, but put them in the box as an investment, and a memento of when you were born.
The boxes were not something Grandpa had thought about before you were born. He was still working when you were born, and I’m not sure just when he built them. But, your sister’s box probably had more thought put into what was saved in it. BTW your sister’s box a different design than your and your brother’s.
Okay, yeah, I remember your box now Meredith!
I left the box with my father Danny, along with most of its contents … but he wants me to take it back to nyc eventually…
You didn’t explore a couple of the old books that were in zip bags. Those were, I believe, your Great Grandfather’s. I forgot to tell you, but in the guest room closet are family memorabilia, photos, your Grandfather’s diaries, and other things.
As a closet minimalist who’s inclined to think of all times as the time to cast away stones and not gather stones together, it’s been an honor to schlep that big, heavy box and the boxes of your siblings from state to state, attic to attic. I knew I was a simple but important worker bee in a great scheme of keeping your grandfather’s dream alive and waiting for you whenever you were ready to peer inside again. I know your grandfather is smiling at you in delight right now.
I flipped through the books … like the complete works of Shakespeare and something else? Those were things that you added to the box later though, right?
This is such a delightful idea. All I ever did was start savings accounts. Wish I had thought to have a special box. That was a wonderful idea.
I have tried to write a story about my growing up as a child for my grandchildren to read. So far all I have is a long story in long hand.
Cherish your boxes, they were done in love.
Auto-rolled the coins and used them to buy a sandwich. Reminds me of the guy who had his cat cremated, sprinkled the ashes all over the carpet because that’s where the cat would want to be– then vacuumed him up with a dust-buster.
Well, I didn’t know what to do with them! They were circulated coins, albeit ones from three decades ago! I suppose I could have stored them in my closet somewhere, but really, what would have been the point of that?? I don’t know what I’ll do with the proof sets, but I’m thinking I may sell most of them as well.
For the record, I really like the Starbucks sandwiches…
I do have lots of photos of you when you were young, but the best memories are those we remember when we talk together and remember…
yes, I added the books to the boxes. Grandpa had kept them on the bookshelf in the house. So, I distributed them without his guidance.
That’s a great story! So sweet.
Coins after 1964 usually aren’t worth anything…before that, they contained more silver. Wheat pennies aren’t worth much either except for a select few. I used to collect coins, and occasionally still try to hang on to wheat pennies when I see them.