How It Use To Be

[bigscoop]

I won this digging tool 20 years ago. It's stainless steel and it was hand crafted by a guy in Idaho. Over the years I've collected a lot of items from other detectorist all over the country, and beyond.

Several years ago we use to mail recoveries back and forth as we all worked together to help each other fill the empty voids in their personal collections. Coins, relics, artifacts, detector parts, whatever the other detectorist needed. Sadly, most of these detectorist are no longer with us. It was a rare community, perhaps 25-30 in that close group of friends. who, in most cases, had never even personally met. But there's even more to all of this.

New detectorist were frequently gifted everything from detectors to accessories, this group of veterans freely gifting these surprises and aids without hesitation.
I miss them.

It was a great time to be a detectorist.

 

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Agony and Death on a Gold Rush Steamer: The Disastrous Sinking of the Side-Wheeler Yankee Blade - Grab it through Amazon!

[tinpan]

Hi ,If correctly remember those tools were made by a member Mighty AP tp

 

[SD51]

I know what you mean, time marches on and suddenly you realize what you miss!

 

[Gare]

Must be well made it still looks pretty good

 

[Spitfire Reddie]

I remember Mighty AP he was one of my close friends on here back in the day ..(this is the first time i've logged on this site in YEARS)

 

[EnvoyToTheMolePeople]

Your shovel there is about the same age as me, so it's always interesting to hear about how things used to be. I once heard an older detectorist say something offhand which really struck me. He told a story about a colorful friend he'd had for many years. He ended the story with a laugh and the simple phrase "I'm not sure if he's alive anymore". It meant nothing in particular for him, just one of the facts of life that your friends die when you get old. But it was such a striking thought to me to consider that I'll eventually be living in a time where I have no idea how many of my friends are alive.

 

[fyrffytr1]

Your shovel there is about the same age as me, so it's always interesting to hear about how things used to be. I once heard an older detectorist say something offhand which really struck me. He told a story about a colorful friend he'd had for many years. He ended the story with a laugh and the simple phrase "I'm not sure if he's alive anymore". It meant nothing in particular for him, just one of the facts of life that your friends die when you get old. But it was such a striking thought to me to consider that I'll eventually be living in a time where I have no idea how many of my friends are alive.

You will know I am gone when my wife advertises a yard sale of rocks, lead and brass. Nothing over a dollar! and, if you happen to pass my grave you will see the dirt spinning!

 

[robertk]

But it was such a striking thought to me to consider that I'll eventually be living in a time where I have no idea how many of my friends are alive.

That time comes a lot quicker than you think it will. Some of my friends left the planet while still in their teens.

 

[DizzyDigger]

Robert, I first read a version of that poem in a Reader's Digest some time in the 60's. Don't know why, but it got stuck in my brain, and I've never forgotten it.

To which I may add...

 

[robertk]

Robert, I first read a version of that poem in a Reader's Digest some time in the 60's. Don't know why, but it got stuck in my brain, and I've never forgotten it.

The first time I saw it was many years aog. I was hiking down a little trail in the woods, just to see where it went. It was overgrown and brushy, not a soul around. At the back of the trail I came upon a small cemetery. It, too was overgrown and bushy. Many of the markers were just plain stones, but some were carved and inscribed. A couple of plots even had a short wrought iron fence around them. The stones with dates were all from the civil war or earlier. As I wandered about looking at the stones and wondering how they came to be way out there, now mostly forgotten, I saw a slab, partly covered in dirt and leaves, with only "death and follow" visible. I uncovered the rest of it and read the poem. Sitting there in the quiet of that forgotten cemetery, aione in the woods with nothing but 150-year old stones, it really hit me. I have also remembered it ever since. Maybe someone will put it on my stone when my time comes.

I like your addition, too.

The photo I posted is just one I found online, because it's readable. The actual one I found is pretty hard to read -- 150 years in the weather will do that -- but here it is.

 

[EnvoyToTheMolePeople]

You will know I am gone when my wife advertises a yard sale of rocks, lead and brass. Nothing over a dollar! and, if you happen to pass my grave you will see the dirt spinning!

I'd be glad to buy those things at a discount like that.

 

[aShardOfHistory]

I'd be glad to buy those things at a discount like that.

Wait till she puts up those manticores and deuses for 30 bucks because who's pay more for a used 100 bucks detector 🤣