I remember the first purchases of antique edged weapons I ever made were at an estate sale managed by the mother of one of my employees. The house was located at the intersection of Better and Best Streets (no kidding) in old North Dallas and it was about 1998. The deceased gentleman was a retired engineer from Bell & Howell who lost his beloved wife decades before. Devasted by the loss of his wife, he retreated into his home and almost never left it and began collecting. He mainly collected antique edged weapons and firearms, taxidermy and model airplanes, mainly war planes. A friend would bring him groceries and run his errands. His house made the eBay mom's look like Martha Stewart's. From every square inch of ceiling hung dusty model planes, which were very well done. All the wall space was covered in yellowed, smoke stained taxidermy and antique edged weapons, similar to the Addams Family residence, but with no empty space on the walls, ceiling or floors. Narrow trails ran through the house allowing a single means of access to every room. On either side of the trails were stacked books, papers, boxes and other objects about waist high. Sometimes, I had to turn sideways to get through. The garage was the same, except the objects were of less value. There were dead animals and birds stacked up everywhere, including rare ones like big South American birds of prey. It was obvious that it was the gentleman's intention to mount them one day. An old 1950's era small refridgerator without power served as a storage cabinet. When I opened the door various hides with the fur still on were piled up. They had been there so long that they appeared to have melted into one homogenous mass of organic matter. It was difficult to tell where one ended and another began. Some old yellowed photographs and newspaper clippings related to some of the examples of taxidermy dated to the fifties. In the back yard were four or five dilapidated British sports cars like Austin Healy's and Triumphs, looking too far gone to be worth much. By the time I arrived at the sale, most of the stuff had been picked over, but I got some nice pieces, some of which are still my favorites. All his guns went to one buyer even before the sale was open to the public. There wasn't much focus in collecting the edged weapons as there was everything, but I can relate to that and so could George Cameron Stone. There was some really nice stuff in the hands of buyers waiting in line to pay. They were the kind of items, even Japanese swords, that probably weren't expensive when he acquireed them, but had since appreciated considerably. That was my introduction to collecting old weapons and I'll never forget it. Rather than view him as strange, I felt sympathy and compassion for him. I don't believe he ever recovered from his broken heart. My house isn't like that, by the way.
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