Saturday Morning, May 2, 2026
Photographs and Memories
An engagement ring on a dresser. A photograph from a Pacific atoll. A signed parchment deed. Memory triggers. All carry a reminder of times long gone. Through luck or serendipity, many of these treasures have survived, though the reason we collect them may differ from their original intent.
J.E. Caldwell tooled leather frames, 14¾" & 16" H.
French ceramic grape light, 10" W.
The gold rings are now weighed and sold for profit. A photograph of a loved one now a jigsaw piece for war historians. Deed signatures far more valuable than the sacrifice it took to obtain the property. It is here our curiosity takes a turn. Items sought today for their beauty and significance drive their value. But patina is only skin deep. Understanding the human factor is the focus of this week's adventure.
Bonfire for the Vanity
That guys a real kook! Flames rose skyward, illuminating Buck County's nighttime landscape. People flocked to the property. Atop his concrete house, flames licked the moon. He's NUTS! Heads nodded in agreement. This wasn't their first brush with this neighbor. Did you see all the junk he hauled home from that farm auction in Mechanicsville? Laughter rippled through the crowd. And his house. Who lives in a concrete mansion?
Early Moravian Pottery redware sconce, 11" H.
Henry Mercer, a man ahead of his times, solidified Bucks County heritage, literally.
Sterling vanity kit, in original box, untouched, first quarter twentieth century.
From his perch atop Fonthill, Henry Mercer stoked and stared down at the mob. He smiled. His experiment was working. Though the crowd waited for complete conflagration, as the pyre intensified, the house remained intact. The year, 1910. America had witnessed city after city destroyed by fire for the last forty years. Wood was tinder and the flames best friend. Mercer was miles ahead in everything he touched. His purpose was to illustrate concrete's fireproof nature. His museum, in kind, was to preserve Bucks County's heritage. Today, the same mob who laughed and scorned, now tours his properties with oohs and aahs. A turn of events made possible by time. And we are the benefactors.
There was a Crooked Man...
One activity remaining timeless is the walk. A simple ambulatory habit. Around the block, circling a track, or along the canal towpath, participation is still popular especially when shared with friends. Today's world offers us shoes designed for this purpose, coordinating outfits, even non-spill coffee cups. Stride-after-stride we glide in style.
Wooden cane with sterling inlaid horn handle, 36" L.
One component from yesterday is missing. The cane. One hundred years ago no dignified gentleman would leave home without one. Straight, burled, sometimes even crooked, sterling banded, gold capped, their variety was infinite. Many bore engravings, tributes, celebrations for a life appreciated, moments meant to freeze time.
Sword walking cane, blade made in Toledo, Spain, home to the finest European sword craftsman. Their work was in demand back into the Fuedal period. Reliable, strong, those blades won many battles.
But time cannot be contained, refutes even the clocks, for when the clocks are broken, or a life long-lived, time motors on, spinning into eternity. Nonexistence of time is a theoretical argument meant for the classroom. At one hundred years, you know it exists. There is another form of a cane. The sword cane. Novel, its original purpose is obvious. Move out of my way shish kebab. Handy for a walk, even for an auction. Contenders Beware. Mind you, we are not promoting this behavior, but hey, mobs will always be mobs. That never changes. Just ask Esmeralda. And don't trophy heads still make a marvelous statement?
Doors open at 8 AM. Auction starts at 9 AM. PA AU 1265L [bb]