HARDY H. HURST, COLLECTOR EXTRAORDINAIRE

By Roger A. Davis

CHAPTER 1

Circa 1962, Kansas, Harper County
Attica and surrounding small towns and rural back roads


Roger Davis was a very stocky boy who never had a pair of jeans from which his crack wasn't in the crisis of exposure. With the help of a rich great-grandmother and grandmother, he became a collector of edge weapons, plus any other item that captures the nature of most adventurous boys. In later life, he had an online knife store and, for last twelve years, has been a member of the Kansas Knife Collectors Association.

Wayne Neff, a 12 year old, was Roger's good friend and fellow collector of oddities. Wayne became a local legend in the area of this story. He is known for his barbecue meats and other food that he dispenses from a traveling food trailer.

For the boys, other than an adult occasionally driving them to an antiques shop or the rare foray to a pawn shop in the city, possibilities of finding collectibles were limited. What opened up their area of search for treasures was the bequeathing of a 1950 Chevy sedan to Roger by Tex, a dying alcoholic who worked for Roger's grandfather, L.H., on his farm.

With the gracious parents’ and grandparents’ permission, Tex had taken Roger under his wing. They spent time in each other’s company, enjoying their friendship and Tex teaching Roger some basic skills such as how to cook. After what may have been Tex's second to last drunken binge, according to the doctors, Roger was given Tex's car by his insistence.

In Kansas, at that time, a minor had to be 14 to get a learner's permit. Since Roger was just short of 13, it would be a while before he could drive legally. Yes, even at 14, you needed an adult with you unless it was to and from school or a job. No allowances other than direct routes.

No problem. The restriction was overlooked because rural kids helped on the farm. In fact, Roger's first long distance driving at a younger age, other than in a pasture or field, was when Roger's dad, R.L., delivered a calf and had no place to wash the gunk. Roger drove home feeling very manly.

Thus began his illegal junkets for what some called junk. For Wayne and Roger, the junk they found were valuables of the extraordinary kind.

These trips were taken on rural unpaved roads. The only time the Chevy's tires gripped pavement was when there was no other way to reach the boys’ destinations.

Harper was the winter home of Mama and Papa Grace, so called by their grandchildren. On occasions, the boys used it as a stop-off point for refreshments and, sometimes, an overnight stay by Roger if he was solo.

Wayne and Roger often frequented an antiques store called the Red Barn. The lady proprietor, tolerant and somewhat amused by their questions and early stages of collecting fever, waited on them with respect. Wayne once bought a stuffed skunk from her; she probably thought it would never sell. But much of her stock was not in their price range or there was no desire to acquire. After a few times of visiting the Red Barn and asking if she had any edge weapons, she told them about a collector who had everything, but warned that he might not sell or like being bothered. So, with this promised hope to meet the most influential person they would ever come to know in the area of curios, antiques and such, the search began, looking for Hardy H. Hurst.

CHAPTER 2 - THE SEARCH BEGINS

The Red Barn lady gave the boys somewhat vague directions. Had she been there before? She said it was close to Freeport, a very small town west of Harper and east of Anthony.

Wayne missed the initial trip because Roger pretended to go to school, but stealthily took Harry, the name his sister, Connie, gave the 50 Chevy. With the help of locals adding directions, he drove the back roads on an adventure he would never forget.

Roger approached the 1/4 mile driveway to the old, fading, white two-story farmhouse. He was pretty excited heading down the rutted driveway, with some trepidation of whether he was at the right residence or not. He pulled up to the house that had no fence around it and not much of a yard either. His first impression was that this place had a slew of cats for there were 10 or more multicolored cats in various forms of employment in feline endeavors. At least he saw no dogs that might challenge his walk to knock on the door. This is when he made his first "I spy a treasure," the first of hundreds to come. Looking down, he saw several cats eating food placed in an upturned World War II Nazi Army helmet without a liner.

“Wow! What must this man have in that house?” was Roger's reaction. Plus, he bet Hardy would sell the helmet to him. Roger was soon crestfallen. Nobody came to the knocking of the door. Young boys do not have much patience, especially when their collecting fever is on full alert. He got back into Harry and waited, looking out and viewing all the old horse-pulled farm equipment Hardy had acquired.

Roger was rewarded for waiting. Less than 30 minutes later, the very old man returned. Young people think middle age is old, but they regard someone in their 80s as ancient. However, Roger’s great-grandmother, Mayme Holmes Grisby, had convinced him that a person might be old, but could still have a lively and loving heart. It turned out to be the case with Hardy as Roger came to know him over the next couple of years.

Hardy greeted Roger with a question, "What's your business here?" Roger told him that he was a collector, too, and the lady at the Red Barn said that he might have some edge weapons to sell. Hardy didn't say yes or no, he just invited Roger in.

This part of the story might be a struggle for readers, especially fellow collectors who have been so infected there is no treatment center to help them overcome their illness. Hardy, a retired farmer and one-time railroad worker (to mention two from his jack-of-all-trades resume), had started collecting while in his twenties and had continued for over 60 years. Much of this time was before antiques and collectibles were of considerable value.

Hardy's home was overflowing with a vast array of no apparent theme or design to his taste; he had everything. Roger later learned that Hardy did have special areas of collecting, but it was not evident in Roger's first impression.

A glass fronted china cabinet stuffed with various items of glassware stood in each corner of the front room. Each cabinet also had three drawers on its lower level. On the next trip, Hardy showed Roger and Wayne that the drawers contained one of Hardy's specialized collections: pocket watches and railroad watches. They varied from the everyday inexpensive to many fancy gold and silver ornate watches. Yet, what amazed the boys was that all four cabinets’ three drawers had watches held in special cut out layers. How many, you ask? Hundreds, Roger imagined. Hardy had stories galore about many of his items. Watches were bought at auctions or wherever, but he acquired several through trading or swapping with individuals during his many years of traveling the nation by railroad. He loved to regale these stories to the boys and they so much enjoyed hearing them.

There were also two small oak tables with lamps centered on top, surrounded by an assortment of glassware, salt and pepper shakers, and some pieces of metal ware collected by Hardy’s late wife. The rest of the front room didn't have much furniture, only a rocker and one wingback padded chair.

Moving in a straight path, the next room was the kitchen, full of primitives. Roger would later learn their distinction in antique collecting vocabulary. This didn’t have much appeal to the boys. Off the kitchen was a room that had been added onto the original construction. It was a room that ran half the width of the house and was 10 feet deep with the east wall made of clear glass bricks, wainscoted half way up to the ceiling. The entire roomed was lined with shelving. This was where Hardy kept his most recent specialized collection, BOTTLES.

CHAPTER 3 - BOTTLES

From top to bottom, bottles of various kinds filled the shelves to their capacity. Hardy's face lit up when he began to pull down his dandies and gave mini stories of their meaning to him, like they were his friends. Hardy had commemorative whiskey bottles (unopened); Avon bottles galore; empty wine bottles; and cut glass decanters. From the humble vinegar pitcher to the antique blown glass masterpieces, those shelves groaned from bottles overload, but Hardy grinned with pleasure. The boys liked bottles, too. Roger had an Old Crow bottle with a brass holder that allowed it to be tipped for filling a jigger or a glass. Wayne had a beer can collection. Roger's Old Crow bottle would later be acquired by you-know-who.

Shortly after, they wanted Hardy to move on and he did. Back through his bachelor’s kitchen, they went into the front room and then took a right into the parlor. It had no sofas or chairs. Yet, Roger could have used a fainting couch. This was collector's sensory overload. The room had three large, round oak dining tables actually overflowing with antiques and collectibles of not only a young boy's fantasies, but of older collectors’ as well.

Where does one start to tell you the ecstasy Roger had from examining Hardy's treasure trove? Roger later said, "It reminded me of the movie, ‘National Treasure’, when Nicholas Cage takes a torch and lights the oil lamp, revealing the combination of the great treasures and wealth of the ancient past."

For the next two and a half hours, Roger probed the accumulated collection of Hardy H. Hurst as Hardy filled in with sidebars of memories past. On not just one or two, but on three tables, there were brass knuckles of various kinds, a brass spice boat with a monkey theme, and a headhunter's knife with a wicked curved scythe blade and handle of jade. There were handcuffs, thumb cuffs, billy clubs and other police collectibles, including many real badges of people Hardy met. It seemed Hardy had a flair for getting others to part with their personal effects of trade.

There was even a real shrunken head the size of a chihuahua's, but human. Sidebar: When Roger visited Hardy in the 60s, Hardy's daughter, Dorothy, was a missionary to Borneo, where cannibalism still existed. She sent this and other items to her dad, knowing they would be greatly appreciated. For Roger, the head was so scary he wouldn't pick it up, but the headhunter knife, he wielded with glee.

Hardy had three-fourths of a human thumb floating in a bottle of solution. While working on the railroad lines in the southern states, a man, with whom Hardy was working, had a pick accident and almost severed his thumb. Hardy told the guy he had better get the hanging thing cut off, but the man refused and wrapped his thumb tightly. Hardy told him to send him the thumb when it dropped off, and the man did. As far as the boys were concerned, they knew Hardy didn't make up stories because he had the artifacts to back them up.

Roger started to examine other items not found on or under the three tables but along the walls in layers where, in places, an extended arm cannot touch the wall. Roger found one more "I spy a treasure," something so cool. It was a horse's brass bridle bit in the shape of two six shot revolvers with the initials of the famous Buffalo Bill Cody. They were just casually laying there with other equestrian items like spurs, quirts, two saddles, etc. Following Roger’s gaze, Hardy told of how he obtained the bridle, originally owned by the founder of the Wild West Show. Hardy's stories were a treasure in themselves.

CHAPTER 4 - UPSTAIRS

Though many treasures on that first trip captivated Roger's collector imagination, his original goal of wanting to know if Hardy had any edge weapons, particularly swords, was not forgotten. For you see, from the age of 9, Roger had been collecting swords, bayonets, knives, and related weapons. As mentioned in other writings by Roger's, his maternal great-grandmother and grandmother where wealthy. They were also avid collectors of glassware, and Mama Cook collected dolls, too. So, in their forays for their addiction, they picked up items for their grandchild. Instead of money, clothes or toys, Roger received edge weapons for birthdays, Christmas and other gift giving occasions.

Roger's persistence in questioning Hardy was soon to pay off. Hardy escorted Roger up an open stairway accessed in the front room. In relating this to you readers, it might suffice to say, this is an understatement describing Roger's astonishment. Roger's mind was blown away! At the top of the landing was a waist high oak railing with spokes that ran around the staircase and the open hall to three bedrooms and a bathroom. Leaning along the railing, with hardly a gap between each item, were rifles, shot guns, and, yes, much to Roger's delight, swords.

As part of this whole unbelievable day, Roger got to hear more glorious stories describing the collection's histories and how the items were acquired. Though not a gun nut at that point in Roger's life, he still soaked up some of Hardy's passion for those firearms and made himself more of a storyteller, too.

Hardy showed him the contents of the bedrooms and they too had collectible items. The items were more so dedicated to the people who occupied those rooms years ago, except Hardy's room, a den of books with a bed. He liked history and railroad genre. It was not the thing Roger could appreciate.

Roger had seen and heard so much, he was hit by a double dose of collector sensory overload. This house was like visiting a museum, such as the Smithsonian, with items you can never hope to own. Here, Roger had seen a collection built on over sixty years of Hardy's passion and, most of all, his joy of collecting people’s stories and belongings. The boy collector driving the 50 Chevy knew he could never duplicate this collection, for, even then, he knew these items would not be available to the collecting public and the quantity cost would be prohibitive. But, this did not daunt Roger's aim to specialize in edge weapons.

Since it was getting late and Roger needed to get back to cover his truant tracks, he asked if Hardy would sell him a sword or two. Roger had brought near his life savings, hoping to make a major purchase from this old man the lady of the Red Barn had told him and Wayne about. Hardy sat Roger down in the front room and related, in a kind way, that money had no meaning to him now. He said that so many people wrote or came by wanting to see if he would sell some item they had heard he owned or they wanted to see his collection. Roger wasn't discovering Hardy; he was a well known Collector Extraordinaire.

What was amazing was that he let this young boy into his world; that fact, Roger later realized, was a rare privilege. Hardy must have suspected the kindred spirit they shared because, from that day on, they became bosom buddies. Because money no longer meant anything and he had enough to get him by to death; his words not Roger's, Hardy said that what he would do is trade. If Roger, and later, Wayne, brought things from their collections, Hardy would trade from his. However, some items were taboo for trade, like his pocket watches. And yes, readers, not wanting to keep you in suspense until the next and final chapters, Roger did get some real cherished items like swords.

This chapter closes with the first exchange between the boy trader and Hardy, a legendary trader. Since Roger brought no trade goods, he was sad to go home empty handed, but Hardy welcomed him back anytime. As Roger walked down those three wooden steps, he turned to Hardy and said, "You see that cat food bowl helmet? I'll bring something to trade for it on my next trip."

Hardy said, "Pick it up and come here." Roger did as told and climbed up one step. From the open door, Hardy extended his old gnarled hand and said, "All I want for that is to shake your hand." Roger's face brightened up like the rising sun. Then Hardy's eyes moistened and he, too, reflected inner joy by knowing he had made Roger a happy collecting boy on that never to be forgotten day.

CHAPTER 5 - QUENCHING THEIR THIRST

On the way home, besides flashbacks to "I spy a treasure," Roger was taking a mental inventory of possible trading goods. One item in particular was a brass clad bottle in the shape of a carriage lamp. It was a gift given to Roger by Mama Cook as one of his Christmas presents. He recollected the disappointment because of its non-connection to his specialty.

There was a high quality swivel, braided bullwhip brought back from Mexico. He had purchased this treasure from a fellow classmate. Roger was somewhat reluctant to include this item because of his ability to crack the sonic sound barrier with it, and it allowed him to play out his fantasies of Zorro. Yet, these were desperate times, when sacrifices for the greater goods had to be made.

Other items that weren't quite as hard to mentally jot down included a ceremonial mask from Central American natives with real goat horns (a scary thing; Roger liked to put a flashlight in it and scare his overnight guests). There was also his other mask, a moderately price reproduction (made in Mexico) of a Colombian looking artifact. This was easily placed on the "get rid of column" since it wasn't scary and the new varnished look turned Roger off.

Another high ticket item was a sterling silver spice boat given to Roger by Mama Cook. A work of art by a silversmith, it was a horse and carriage motif with various containers arranged to hold a variety of spices. When Roger was given the boat the previous Christmas, his grandmother explained that it was not easy to find the edge weapons he so loved. Mama Cook relayed, “Your taste for the collectibles will expand as you mature and your appreciation for the craftsmanship will be a key to all you acquire.” At the time, Roger's disappointment was not noticeably relieved. Yet, looking back, this was ever so true but Roger never got to tell his nationally famous doll collecting Grandma that it was right-on advice.

The trip home went by quickly for Roger and the mental review lessened his anxiety of being caught in his school skipping ruse. It was good news on the home front. Roger avoided being discovered. So he made a mental note, he would be able to try this another time and would be glad to pay the cost of punishment for pursuing his expeditions to the mecca of collecting. Even at a young age, Roger was steeped in metaphoric historical jargon, because one of his other hobbies was reading the World Book Encyclopedia. It was a gift from Mama Cook to all the family but most used by Roger.

The next day at school, there was no playtime at recess. It was replay time with Wayne and the saga of Roger's Hardy H. Hurst quest. Wayne was initially angry for not being included in the journey, but Roger won Wayne over with his retelling of the passionate and vivid scenes of discovery, so fresh in his mind.

As mentioned previously, patience is not a young boy’s strong suit, so another safari was set in motion with talk of time, needed trade supplies, alibis and, most of all, gas and oil for Harry. Though sleep the night before was fretful at best, the appointed day arrived. Their joint singular focus was their Hardy H. Hurst thirst.

When the boys approached Hardy's house, they were excited. Hardy's pick-up was there. This, you see, was the big unanswered question, would Hardy be at home? Hardy answered the knocking on the paned glass curtained door window. He ushered them in with the words, "Roger, this must be your best friend Wayne." Wayne grinned and stuck out his hand, a gesture Clay Neff had taught his son at an early age. Wayne was mature beyond his years. A quality that had endeared him to Roger and, to this day in their far and few reunions, still amuses and warms Roger's heart.

Hardy shook Wayne’s hand, and this began another visit in Nirvana.

CHAPTER 6 - HURST HIGHLIGHTS

The following snapshots in this story represent a time capsule of the boys’ trips. There is no chronological order, nor are the historical events related to their visits delivered in sequence. But the author believes it does not add to or subtract from the story. It's a true story and real names, times, and items of treasures are authentic. Hardy’s, Roger’s and Wayne's collections were really owned. Any inaccuracies found in the retelling are due to Roger’s time span memory loss. Yet, let’s just agree, his related poems in edenprairieprose.blogspot.com are a witness to Roger having an abundance of memories and their marked impressions that shape his prose.

The first part of this trip was a chance for Wayne to go on a guided tour. After the tour, Hardy brought a combination step-up kitchen chair to serve as Wayne’s perch and sat the boys down in the front room. Then, from his multitudes, Hardy began a super cool story about his favorite pocket watch.

Hardy had the pocket watch that was shared by the internationally famous Siamese twins, Eng & Chang, along with the picture showing the watch and other items of provenance. His knowledge about their lives was encyclopedic. It was as if he had been their neighbor. But, based on the time frame, the boys later knew that was not possible. Hardy did relate it was purchased at a costly sum from one of their combined 21 children output. Hardy said it was one of the few items he just had to own. In the telling of the story, Wayne and Roger liked the fact the twins married sisters and they shared separate houses, allotting times at one sister’s and then at the other. Their children’s births were as close as Hardy ever got to a PG subject. He never uttered a swear word. But, as boys will be boys, they grinned and had knowing smiles while listening to Hardy's retelling of the famous American duo, born in Bangkok but naturalized in the USA. The final curtain in Hardy's word play was the death of Chang. The boys' morbid fascination was more than met by Hardy's favorite story.

Two more paragraphs will highlight two plus years of foray into the world of trading and Hardy relating Americana to the young eager scholars who never seemed to be satisfied. They often said, "Hardy, please, one more story before we go."

In those golden years of trading with Hardy, memorable items were acquired by Roger: Nazi World War II helmet; Civil War artillery officer's sword; fraternal sword; Japanese World War bayonet; Samurai- like sword, stingray skin wrapped, circa 1940s; short sword of unknown origin (Roger loved the feel – the great balance that oozed fantasy of the pirate kind); and other less memorable items that did not stand out since they were not blade related.

Of Wayne's acquisitions, Roger could only recall their trips home, when they relished in all that took place on each visit and how they were more than happy to have the treasures to proudly display on their shelves.

In putting this story to rest, we want to make a significant point. Hardy liked to wheel and deal but, looking back at these forty plus years ago, Roger and Wayne both agreed that, in any and all trades, Hardy never took advantage of their youthful exuberance to acquire by driving a hard bargain. Even when he knew they had actual physical pain from their need to obtain something from his extraordinary collection. They believe they were treated, collectively speaking, as the grandson he never had.

Hardy's love was cloaked in his deals two-fold: providing valuable lessons in trading and giving them gifts in the guise of wheeling and dealing. Yes, Wayne and Roger gave up some stuff but the return far exceeded their outlay. Hardy wouldn't let Roger trade the silver spice boat. Instead, Hardy taught Roger the importance of keeping gifts given. This was supposed to be the final paragraph, but Roger asked that there be one more included as a lesson for collectors, young and old alike.

That first day, when Roger was immersed into his boyhood fantasy and it became a reality, there was a constant temptation to pocket some small item that caught his eye and one he thought Hardy would never miss. The urge was always there, every visit. On the third visit, temptation prevailed. Roger stole a Nazi swastika emblem ring that was missing some unknown settings. He thought it was of World War II German origin. In later years, Roger discovered it was of the Native American Indians, a symbol that predated the hideous reign of Hitler. Roger's act tainted his relationship with Hardy, though unbeknownst to the old trusting soul. On the way home, Roger wanted to undo it. There was no joy, just sadness instead. Roger couldn't let Hardy know he valued an old ring more than his friend's trust. Hardy went to his grave unaware. Yet, even to this day, Roger bemoans the incident and has made an effort to make a partial righting of the wrong. In his early adult years, he tried contacting Dorothy Hurst to confess and reimburse. No success.

Of all the items Roger traded for, the ring is the only item he has kept from Hardy's collection. Some might think the ring is a symbol of betrayal. To Roger, it symbolizes a reminder to treat people honestly, with trust and an open heart, and to always try to close a deal where everyone is pleased.

It is a rule of life Roger tries to follow every day so that everyone he meets will want to shake his now gnarled hand.