Circa By Connie Swaim When I first began writing about my recent move, I said one of my hopes was to find a missing Fulper candlestick. I bought a matching pair of Arts & Crafts Fulper candleholders at the auction of a former neighbor’s household many years ago. I think I paid $75 for the pair, which for me at the time was a lot of money. Somehow when I moved five years ago, the candleholders became separated and I could only find one of them when I unpacked. I had hoped to find the missing one when I moved last month. But, after spending a week unpacking boxes I had not found the Fulper piece. It seemed it must be lost forever. Over our Christmas shutdown the weather turned warm and Curt and I decided to go back to my old house and finish cleaning out the storage barns. I had gotten all the major boxes when I officially moved, but I left some boxes that contained things I knew I wanted to send to auction, plus all of my many boxes of personal mementoes. I’m not sure who I am keeping these boxes of personal items for. I don’t have any children and I can’t really imagine my nieces or nephew being thrilled with a box of papers dating back to my kindergarten years. I have the bundle of things my Grandmother Barr had kept announcing my birth. I got those when we cleaned out her house when she died. There is even a little charm bracelet with a girl’s head and my name and date of birth engraved on it. Then, there is the mirror Grandpa Barr made for me in 1975. He made it out of a horse collar and hames set and painted it in the official colors of my high school. As far as I know, this is one of the only gifts my grandpa actually made for any of his grandchildren. Usually my grandparents just gave their children money with which to buy Christmas gifts for all of the grandchildren. I found the basket full of pinecones my Grandmother Swaim collected during various trips around the country. Then there are the two pen and ink drawings one of my cousins, who is now a cartoonist, did for me when I was 14 or 15. I thought they had been lost long ago, but I found them tucked inside one of my many scrapbooks. I’m going to get them framed now so they won’t be lost again. Poor Curt just dutifully stood in the doorway of the storage barn and hauled the boxes to the various piles I had designated. I know he was thinking that the pile labeled as "auction" could have had a lot more boxes added to it. He’s a great guy though and he didn’t even ask why I was keeping what was once the step to a corn detasseling machine. I did throw some things away, although I admit it wasn’t much. Some things went to the trash pile at first, but then came back to the ’save’ pile. For example, I had two cushioned seats advertising the Hambletonian in DuQuoin, Ill. The Hambletonian is a race for 3-year-old trotters and from 1957 to 1980 it was held in DuQuoin. The cushions were stiff, extremely dirty and the plastic was torn. I moved them to the trash pile, but they got me thinking about the times Grandma and Grandpa Barr got Mom and Dad to let me out of school so I could go with them to the race. We would spend the day at the racetrack and tour the barns looking at all the fine horses. I still vividly remember watching a horse named Connie’s Song run and I fantasized that someday I would be on the race circuit. The cushions moved out of the trash pile. Finally, after about four hours we had moved countless boxes and rearranged the storage barns for my friend Patrick and his family. I was tired of moving boxes and climbing over tools, but I had spotted what looked like one more box in the far back corner. I had to move the metal daybed frame yet again, climb over an air compressor and then curse as I hit my head on a beam in the storage barn. Then I had to remove five cans of paint no one would ever really use again to get to the box. The second thing I unwrapped from the box was the missing Fulper candleholder. How in the world it ever found its way to where it was I don’t know. But, in that move five years ago, I had many people helping me pack. Somehow, the candleholder had gotten into the wrong box. It seemed none the worse for wear and it now sits with its mate in the living room. The Hambletonian cushion is now tucked away in a new storage box and sitting in a new storage barn. It’s worth the memory it will evoke the next time I move. |