Off the Beaten Path by Kirstin Ahearn
Picking in Haddam
Despite our efforts to avoid the television, one day we just turned it on out of habit. The music and sounds of the exciting adventures of TV people wafted throughout the house. Someone was speaking in a loud, near-hyperventilating voice, talking to a guy named “Humpy” and shouting about “a great pick.” Curiouser and curiouser.
I joined my entire family in front of the TV and tuned in to what I soon learned was “American Pickers,” a show about three intrepid “antique archeologists” who paw through the barns, sheds, attics, and underwear drawers of America’s greatest hoarders (pardon me, they prefer to be called “accidental collectors”), most of them on the aging side.
It was my lucky day—for it was the start of a marathon of episodes. Grab the popcorn, people, because “lazy-day TV” doesn’t get any better than this.
Like most great American trends, I’m a few year’s lagging (do people still wear just one glove?), so I was not very surprised to realize we’re already into season four of this great Americana show.
Where have I been?
Basically the show follows Frank, Mike and Danielle who make their living buying and selling other people’s stuff.
They get excited about rusted hood ornaments and embalming tables, and only buy things they know they can hand off at a profit. Seriously, you watch these folks pay $85 for a moldy flag and you start thinking… hmmm, maybe it’s time to part with Granny’s old biscuit tin and get some real money in my
pocket. Hmmmm.
The wheels were turning, and I starting thinking that, with more than 350 years under our belts here in Haddam, we must have some packed sheds filled with “great picks.” Hmmmm.
A few years ago, my daughter’s class did a school project on Haddam’s history and for some reason I remembered that one of her classmates, Garrett MacNeil, did his entire research simply by visiting his great aunt’s barn. Turns out his dad’s family has been living here in Haddam for centuries. They had to have a pick or two, just waiting to be unearthed.
Graciously, Garrett’s mom agreed to let me into the homestead barn, which was nestled along Candlewood Road.
Garrett was my tour guide, dramatically opening the first of three sections to this large old farm building, part of it dating back to the 1700s. Let me tell you, it was pretty cool in that barn which was filled with old tractors and farm tools and things from an era gone by when working for a living really meant working for a living.
“They used this to cut wheat by hand,” Garrett told me, as he gripped a rusty scythe and started making cutting motions. His dad gently took the tool from Garrett and set it on a higher shelf.
Garrett was full of all sorts of detailed info about nearly everything he showed me: ”That’s a kitchen stove but it used wood! That’s a grinding wheel to keep the tools sharp! That’s a corn husker!”
We climbed over some boards and made our way upstairs to the second level which was filled with more tools, apple barrels, a beautiful old headboard, yokes for the farm animals, and various other nuts and bolts from when farming truly was a way of life in Haddam.
The best thing, though, was a real one-horse open sleigh,
once used to take Garrett’s ancestors to church during snow season, just like a scene from Currier and Ives.
While the experts keep claiming “every treasure is a new
history lesson,” they also talk about the science involved in
scrounging—so they can properly scan the goods for the
gold. And, a good picker, I’ve learned, never offers up what they are willing to pay first.
This is how the dance goes, and although this wasn’t a real
pick (I was lacking cold, hard cash, and no one there was selling anything), I took a stab at pretending it was.
“How much do you think this is worth?” I asked Garrett’s
uncle, nodding towards the one-horse open sleigh.
“No idea,” he shrugged. And that was the end of that.
We toured the rest of the barn, Garrett plying me with facts
and figures, and me repeating over and over, “whoa, that’s
cool,” and “what did they do with that?”
As I was about to leave, Garrett suddenly spun around with a look of pure joy on his face.
“Hey! Want to see my great aunt’s outhouse?” he bellowed,
pointing to the white house across the street.
Sure enough, the corner of an old outhouse was just visible.
Before I could answer, his mother stepped in and changed
the subject. (For the record, I would have checked it out…)
Well, as Mike and Frank like to say, “You’re only as good as
the last deal you made.” The only deal I made that day was to get a free tour of a fabulous piece of Haddam’s history.
And I encourage you to bug your friends and neighbors for a peek at their old stuff, too. It’s a fun way to spend a few hours and learn more about “them old days.” I thank the MacNeil family for helping me out with my first pick, and only ask for dibs on that sleigh.
Kirstin Ahearn lives (and ponders picking) in Higganum.