Indianhead Jones
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- Jul 28, 2008
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It seems no matter how much time goes by, we simply never forget our favorite finds.
But in this case, it's one of my most unusual finds.
It was the summer of 1985, and I was 34 at the time. I'm 58 now, and still a die-hard treasure hunter!
My brother and I were hunting a promising site in downtown Boston, Mass. Along the Charles river, across from stately Victorian homes, a very long and wide area of grass parkway was giving up coins and relics from the era of the old homes. The Charles wound it's way past us, as we recovered one old coin after another, much of it silver.
I was looking forward to the next signal when I received a blast in my ears, indicative of a very large object. A large flattened can, I figured, or maybe a spade head or something similar.
I always dig these out, in order to check the area for something nice that the junk may have been hiding there, so with digger in hand, I proceeded.
I located the top of the object at about 7 inches, and, digging out around it, noticed that it was a small tin box, rectangular in shape, and about 7 or eight inches across.
Now, I was intrigued, and a little excited! The lid was on tight, and I could only imagine what it might contain. Dreaming of someone's hidden and long-forgotten stash of cash or coins, I carefully released the box from its resting place, and, taking a deep breath, I began working around the lid to loosen it. It finally came loose after much prying with a screwdriver, and the lid gave way.
I wasn't prepared for what I found inside.
Inside that little tin box, a fancy silk handkerchief was wrapped around something. I lifted the once pretty handkerchief and unwarapped it.
Inside I saw small yellow feathers, and the remains of a pet canary that someone long ago had loved so much that they had taken the time and effort to bury with obvious love and care.
I had unknowingly and unwittingly disturbed the resting place of this tiny creature, and it was time to put it back where it belonged.
I rewrapped the handkerchief just like I had found it, and was about to place it back into the box when I noticed a small brittle piece of paper in the bottom of the box.
I carefully lifted the paper out, and could make out writing on it. In fading, but still readable fountain pen was written simply, "1924" and two initials that I could not make out.
As I put the top securely back on the tin box, and began re-burying it so as to make things exactly as I had found them, I pictured a mother and a daughter burying their beloved pet here on this spot in 1924, and in my mind, it was a poignant scene.
A moment in someone's life (lives?) so very long ago, and a little yellow pet that meant so much that it recieved a sweet and caring burial.
I'll never forget that day.
Larry G.
But in this case, it's one of my most unusual finds.
It was the summer of 1985, and I was 34 at the time. I'm 58 now, and still a die-hard treasure hunter!
My brother and I were hunting a promising site in downtown Boston, Mass. Along the Charles river, across from stately Victorian homes, a very long and wide area of grass parkway was giving up coins and relics from the era of the old homes. The Charles wound it's way past us, as we recovered one old coin after another, much of it silver.
I was looking forward to the next signal when I received a blast in my ears, indicative of a very large object. A large flattened can, I figured, or maybe a spade head or something similar.
I always dig these out, in order to check the area for something nice that the junk may have been hiding there, so with digger in hand, I proceeded.
I located the top of the object at about 7 inches, and, digging out around it, noticed that it was a small tin box, rectangular in shape, and about 7 or eight inches across.
Now, I was intrigued, and a little excited! The lid was on tight, and I could only imagine what it might contain. Dreaming of someone's hidden and long-forgotten stash of cash or coins, I carefully released the box from its resting place, and, taking a deep breath, I began working around the lid to loosen it. It finally came loose after much prying with a screwdriver, and the lid gave way.
I wasn't prepared for what I found inside.
Inside that little tin box, a fancy silk handkerchief was wrapped around something. I lifted the once pretty handkerchief and unwarapped it.
Inside I saw small yellow feathers, and the remains of a pet canary that someone long ago had loved so much that they had taken the time and effort to bury with obvious love and care.
I had unknowingly and unwittingly disturbed the resting place of this tiny creature, and it was time to put it back where it belonged.
I rewrapped the handkerchief just like I had found it, and was about to place it back into the box when I noticed a small brittle piece of paper in the bottom of the box.
I carefully lifted the paper out, and could make out writing on it. In fading, but still readable fountain pen was written simply, "1924" and two initials that I could not make out.
As I put the top securely back on the tin box, and began re-burying it so as to make things exactly as I had found them, I pictured a mother and a daughter burying their beloved pet here on this spot in 1924, and in my mind, it was a poignant scene.
A moment in someone's life (lives?) so very long ago, and a little yellow pet that meant so much that it recieved a sweet and caring burial.
I'll never forget that day.
Larry G.
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very cool story thanks for sharing it
