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 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.
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