scaupus
Hero Member
- Joined
- Apr 20, 2011
- Messages
- 889
- Reaction score
- 523
- Golden Thread
- 0
- Location
- Not too far from a beach
- Primary Interest:
- All Treasure Hunting
Yesterday afternoon, I was in a shabby, rather Bohemian part of a modest Florida beach town, somewhere south of the Treasure Coast. I'd gone there looking for yard sales. To get a sense of this neighborhood, think of a stubborn underclass, living in a patchwork of cheap, small apartments and homes built in the 20s, 30s, 40s and 50s, some of the buildings charmingly eccentric, but many rather squat and ugly with small room a/c's hanging out of the windows, old clothelines dangling to the ground, worn out asphalt parking, a neighborhood that stubbornly resists gentrification...it reminded me of South Beach in the 1980's.
After a few hours driving around and making a few purchases, nothing great, I decided to check out some prospective metal detecting sites in the area that I had researched online and placemarked in google maps. One was just a few blocks away. I drove over, and there it was, just as it appeared in google street view.
As I swept the grass strip between the street and the sidewalk with my DFX, a young woman walked by. She frequently glanced backward as she walked. Her stern eyes were flat as they swept by me, as if she didn't notice me. She joined up with a man and a woman standing on the sidewalk at the far end of the property I was working along, which adjoined a commercial parking lot on Federal Highway. Shortly, there were several more young folk gathered there. The women were pretty and natural, the men lean, bearded and long-haired. A young woman with a large tattoo of open wings boldly perched above her jeans bicycled by. Then, two older gentlemen in their 60's, a salt and pepper pair, walked by towards the young folk. I nodded to them.
"Find anything good?" one of them asked me. I shook my head. "Nah, 'fraid not." I replied.
The group at the far end of the yard was now about a dozen, mostly, but not all, young and white, some conversing, and perhaps, exchanging...I dunno, maybe keepsakes. I didn't want to appear too curious. There were several more people crossing the street. The air was charged with...expectation. Even though they seemed to be...loitering, basically...there was a purpose about these folks, of something important happening. I wondered what it was like to feel that way. It had been months since I had felt that way about metal detecting. I had had little time or money to get out anywhere new or good to detect, and I had found nothing in a long time, and had just about lost the expectation of finding anything exciting. Life felt flat.
I noticed the girl with the wings tattoo ride off. At that moment, I was distracted from this curious demonstration by a very high silver reading on my dfx. Out of the dirt I fished a white metal pair of wings about an inch and a half wide, with what looked like an ice cream cone, or a diamond, between the wings. There was some writing on the back, but it was too small, I couldn't read it. I thought it might be a metal logo that had fallen off a pair of jeans, but the very high VDI was atypical for that sort of tag. I dropped the wings into my pouch with the clad and the trash.
I stood up and glanced around...everyone had vanished. Just like that. Strange.
I kept at it for another 20 minutes or so, trying some neighboring strips, but then decided the adjoining properties did not fit my criteria, and I shouldn't keep at it just because I was there. I went back to my car, and was sitting in the drivers seat with the door open, examining the wings. I used a loupe to read the writing on the back. "Sterling." There was a catch on the back and a neat patch of solder where a pin had once been attached.
I noticed one of the old men, the white one, walking up to my car.
"Can you spare a dollar for a fella to buy some food?" he asked me.
"Uh, yeah, if you don't mind the color of the coins I just dug up," I said, showing him a brown quarter.
"That's OK," he answered,
I pulled the coins out of the pouch, all of which added up to a bit less than a dollar. "Just save me the wheat-back penny," I requested. He looked through the coins and handed it back to me. The wings were still in my hand. The old man saw it.
"Did you just dig that up, too?" he asked.
"Yes, " I said, "but I'm not sure what it is."
"Can I see it?," he asked. "Sure," I answered, with only the slightest hesitation.
The old man examined it briefly.
"These are paratroop wings." he declared.
Instantly, I recognized them for what they were, too. He handed them back to me, and I stared in awe at the wings that were suddenly freighted with history and value.
It was like a miracle.
"Thanks, man." I said.
"Well, thank you," he replied indicating his handful of change. As the old man was walking away. I called after him, "hey, wait a minute. Look, I'm not a narc or anything, really, I was just wondering what all those youngsters were doing over here a few minutes ago. They all disappeared so suddenly."
He smiled at me. "I don't know. They just like to gather there and talk."
And he walked off. The food mart was just across the highway.
In the opposite direction.
After a few hours driving around and making a few purchases, nothing great, I decided to check out some prospective metal detecting sites in the area that I had researched online and placemarked in google maps. One was just a few blocks away. I drove over, and there it was, just as it appeared in google street view.
As I swept the grass strip between the street and the sidewalk with my DFX, a young woman walked by. She frequently glanced backward as she walked. Her stern eyes were flat as they swept by me, as if she didn't notice me. She joined up with a man and a woman standing on the sidewalk at the far end of the property I was working along, which adjoined a commercial parking lot on Federal Highway. Shortly, there were several more young folk gathered there. The women were pretty and natural, the men lean, bearded and long-haired. A young woman with a large tattoo of open wings boldly perched above her jeans bicycled by. Then, two older gentlemen in their 60's, a salt and pepper pair, walked by towards the young folk. I nodded to them.
"Find anything good?" one of them asked me. I shook my head. "Nah, 'fraid not." I replied.
The group at the far end of the yard was now about a dozen, mostly, but not all, young and white, some conversing, and perhaps, exchanging...I dunno, maybe keepsakes. I didn't want to appear too curious. There were several more people crossing the street. The air was charged with...expectation. Even though they seemed to be...loitering, basically...there was a purpose about these folks, of something important happening. I wondered what it was like to feel that way. It had been months since I had felt that way about metal detecting. I had had little time or money to get out anywhere new or good to detect, and I had found nothing in a long time, and had just about lost the expectation of finding anything exciting. Life felt flat.
I noticed the girl with the wings tattoo ride off. At that moment, I was distracted from this curious demonstration by a very high silver reading on my dfx. Out of the dirt I fished a white metal pair of wings about an inch and a half wide, with what looked like an ice cream cone, or a diamond, between the wings. There was some writing on the back, but it was too small, I couldn't read it. I thought it might be a metal logo that had fallen off a pair of jeans, but the very high VDI was atypical for that sort of tag. I dropped the wings into my pouch with the clad and the trash.
I stood up and glanced around...everyone had vanished. Just like that. Strange.
I kept at it for another 20 minutes or so, trying some neighboring strips, but then decided the adjoining properties did not fit my criteria, and I shouldn't keep at it just because I was there. I went back to my car, and was sitting in the drivers seat with the door open, examining the wings. I used a loupe to read the writing on the back. "Sterling." There was a catch on the back and a neat patch of solder where a pin had once been attached.
I noticed one of the old men, the white one, walking up to my car.
"Can you spare a dollar for a fella to buy some food?" he asked me.
"Uh, yeah, if you don't mind the color of the coins I just dug up," I said, showing him a brown quarter.
"That's OK," he answered,
I pulled the coins out of the pouch, all of which added up to a bit less than a dollar. "Just save me the wheat-back penny," I requested. He looked through the coins and handed it back to me. The wings were still in my hand. The old man saw it.
"Did you just dig that up, too?" he asked.
"Yes, " I said, "but I'm not sure what it is."
"Can I see it?," he asked. "Sure," I answered, with only the slightest hesitation.
The old man examined it briefly.
"These are paratroop wings." he declared.
Instantly, I recognized them for what they were, too. He handed them back to me, and I stared in awe at the wings that were suddenly freighted with history and value.
It was like a miracle.
"Thanks, man." I said.
"Well, thank you," he replied indicating his handful of change. As the old man was walking away. I called after him, "hey, wait a minute. Look, I'm not a narc or anything, really, I was just wondering what all those youngsters were doing over here a few minutes ago. They all disappeared so suddenly."
He smiled at me. "I don't know. They just like to gather there and talk."
And he walked off. The food mart was just across the highway.
In the opposite direction.
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