Saturday Morning, March 28, 2026
Better Run Through the Jungle
Every movement matters, no matter how minor. Senses on high alert. As impossible as hiding a watermelon in an orange bin. Rustling of leaves, against the breeze. Flit of a shadow, no eyes can see. Abundant foliage stroke with ease, smells surrounding make you sneeze. Better run through the jungle.
1901 Liberty Head ten dollar gold coin, observe and reverse.
So immediate, you could taste death. Heat boiled your blood, rains forever baptized. Rite of passage beyond expectation. Twenty-four seven. Unrelenting. Caught in this nightmare. How ironic. The object? Never to be caught. Catch 22. The order? Surveillance. Move in. Move out. Behind enemy lines. Or in front. Who knew where those lines were? Endless jungle trails. Tunnels to eternity. Trip wires to reality. Living in a purple haze. It was a dangerous game. Slip, sliding away. Return to base never felt so good. Tomorrow? Better run through the jungle.
Long as I can see the Light
Experiences in youth set the course for life. Emotions remain inside, tucked into our cerebellum cubbyholes, forced to surface like Old Faithful.
Ranulph Bye, watercolor - Moravian Pottery Works, Doylestown, Bucks County, 14" x 22".
Walt Disney Sericel. All the usual suspects 9 ½" x 26".
As we age, these memories appear more often. A gut-wrenching feeling at 3 am, the hour when the past chooses to present. Good and bad. All floats to the surface. Choices we made, people we have loved, even lost. Inescapable. Judgment Day. Such is the world we step into each week, some more poignant than others.
A Fortress Deep and Mighty
We entered the home and stopped. The contents before us spoke stories, black and white photos resurrected them. Treasured letters, faded. A youth tethered to Vietnam. All the training can never really prepare one for war. The survival instincts of an intelligence officer become lifetime partners. It never ends at discharge. Skills learned in battle sharpen. Who to trust. Who to rely upon. People may come and go. Only a few reach the inner circle.
1897 Liberty Head five dollar gold coin.
Selection of silver American Eagles.
We stood on the thresold of this inner circle. Bookcases filled the walls, floor to ceiling, their placement replicating bunker walls. Flack barriers from incoming shrapnel or otherwise. Impenetrable. A safe zone. Knowledge the insatiable answer to life's questions and best defense perimeter.
One large room was so full, narrow canyons were carved through a bedrock of books, artwork, and military detritus. Navigating left, right, then left, tunnels echoing long ago Vietcong labyrinths. The best detail was the house setting. Up high along a ridge. Single road in, same road out. From this perch, one looked out across the Bucks County landscape, beyond a line-of-fire range. Miles of rolling hills. No jungle growth here. The lowest risk factor. And here he made his last stand.
Epic - The Marvel Magazine of Fantasy & Science-Fiction - 1980-84.
I am a Rock, I am an Island
The medical diagnosis was honest. The past was exacting its toll. This gentleman, a favored friend to Brown Bros., withdrew. Incommunicado. Gentle words and loving hands from family encouraged him to reach out. A closed oyster never shows its pearl. Phone calls were made. Embers reignited. With each contact his spirits rose. It was the rare chance to remember, to say goodbye, and with many say I love you.
Ray Overpeck, oil on wood panel, The Tea Room,
molded gilt frame, 16" x 20".
All the men he fought along with and died beside him in Nam never had this opportunity. His final days were not spent in bitterness, but in fulfillment. His commitment reaffirmed with those who shared his experience. Brothers to their country, best to each other. Somewhere, a soul was fleeting in the rustling breeze, in the flit of a shadow, kissing cheeks, then vanishing into the Bucks County landscape.
Doors open at 8 AM. Auction starts at 9 AM. PA AU 1265L [bb]