That broke my heart...

[email protected] wrote:  
"...the one find you never saw coming?" I'll bet the challange for many of us 
on this list would be to narrow it down to one! For myself, I saw relatively 
few phono-finds coming -- it was mostly dumb luck, augmented a bit by 
persistance. Well, here's a good story with a bad ending...

I once stopped by an out-of-the-way antique shop outside of Stroudsburg, PA. It 
was apparently the only house on the road, but there was no sign or any 
indication of shop being there. I asked an elderly man in the front yard if 
there was an antique shop nearby, as I had been told. He asked me what I was 
looking for, and I told him. The man waved me into his driveway, and a minute 
later he was leading me across the road, up an embankment into a wooded area. 
(I could hear the banjo playing from "Deliverance".) The only structure was a 
chicken coop, and sure enough, he opened the unlocked door and led me inside. 
As my eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, I saw a familiar form looming - a 
mahogany Amberola "IA" with its four drawers full of records - and about 25% of 
them were Royal Purples. Everything was in good shape; thankfully, the chicken 
coop was weather-tight. 
That's the good part. The not-so-good part was that it was January 1973, I was 
only 19, and had never seen an Amberola "IA" before (my copy of the first Frow 
book would arrive a month later). In complete ignorance, I offered the 
gentleman $150, and he scratched his chin in thought. I suddenly realized that 
if he accepted my offer, I'd be obliged to drive back to the hotel where my 
parents and I were staying, and talk dad into a loan (NOT a guaranteed 
proposition by any means!). Plus, we would have to somehow fit the machine into 
dad's Buick - along with its 4 occupants. All this flashed through my mind as 
the old fellow cogitated. Finally - to my relief - he said that he'd need a 
little more. Like a dunce, I thanked him and drove away.
A month later, I found the machine in the Frow book (remember the old blue 
softcover?), and I wrote the old man a letter (Yes - I had taken his address. I 
can claim THAT much foresight!). I offered the man $200 and was willing to 
drive the 4 hours back to Stroudsburg to retrieve the machine. I never heard 
back from him.
Six years later, now married, I found myself driving by Stroudsburg with my 
lovely wife. I recounted the sad story to her, and she agreed to take the time 
to try finding the chicken coop of hallowed memory. Unbelievably, our van 
(undoubtedly a relative of Jerry's) turned this way and that, leading us 
straight to the place within 10 minutes! Even more surprising - there stood the 
elderly man in front of his house! I pulled in, got out and re-introduced 
myself. Sure, he remembered me, and added, "I only sold that phonograph this 
spring to a dealer in Delaware Water Gap for $200 - and he turned around and 
got $400 for it!" In reply to my slightly exasperated question of why he never 
contacted me after my letter, he stated, "I didn't think you were serious." 
That was in August 1979. Since then, I've given no seller any reason to 
question my seriousness!
I have many stories with happier endings, but I enjoy the cloud of pervasive 
ignorance that surrounds this one...

George Paul

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