I’ll admit it. I have an addiction. I am a total junk-finding, thrift-store-hunting, yard-sale fanatic! It is not that I need anything. It isn’t even that I want anything. I love the process- the hunt for the unknown potential.
Yesterday, I had a dentist appointment. I decided the morning should be dedicated to finding some junk pieces I had in mind. I’ve been putting together a game room- with a ping pong table and dart board and the white walls look especially bare. So, I had in mind to try to find some old advertisement sign from the local junk yard- Belt Salvage.
As I was driving south of town, a yard sale sign beckoned me. I surveyed the sale and found an old bookshelf I thought was interesting. “Would you take ten dollars for it?,” I asked the lady in charge.
The dresser standing next to it wasn’t great, but it’d make one of my spare rooms more livable for a renter. “How about forty for the dresser and the book shelf?”
Once again I’d made a spontaneous purchase. And off I drove to Belt Salvage.
I parked in front of the riveted corrugated steel building and had, along with the old metal signs, two other treasures to find- I needed a wooden reel top for a table I’m creating and I wanted to see what kind of shelves they had in the heaps. I trekked off into the land of unending junk and found some of what I sought.
I went into the front office. "How can I help you?" asked the man behind the counter.
"I need a reel top and some shelves."
"Just take the reel top. I need to get rid of those. Let's go see the shelf you found." And off we went.
We navigated over the old school desk and rusted twisted metal to the shelf.
He lifted it with, “Steel. How about twenty dollars?”
“Sure,” I said. “I also was wondering about the mercantile sign you’ve got hanging on the fence. Is it for sale?”
“Yeah, I’ll sell that. How about thirty dollars?”
“So, fifty all together?”
“Yeah. I’ll get someone to help you load these.”
With the help of a young guy in work overalls, I loaded the self and reel top. I drove back over to the main building and hiked over to the old mercantile sign. The guy who’d helped me load up, helped me under the wiring holding the sign in place. Rusty and beat up, I thought the sign would be right at home in my basement.
I started loading the sign on top of my Blazer. A man in a white Ford pick-up was pilling in alongside of me. His wife sat quiet in the rider’s seat. “You know where that sign came from?” he asked.
“No. I have no idea.” I stated.
“Dove Creek. It used to be on the building where the bean company is now. That was Romer’s first business. He went on to become governor of the state.”
Wow! Who’d have thought I’d find a piece of Colorado history in a heap?