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| Chas Parker Coffee Grinder from 1890's |
I love old things. Visiting places like Monticello and Williamsburg gives me a thrill. Why? Because I can't help but image all the people who once lived in the houses, ate at the taverns and built our government in buildings. It’s almost as if I feel their presence—ghosts of history lingering in the woodwork, walking the halls and whispers in the walls.
That’s why I adore watching Antiques Roadshow on PBS. According to the producers, most guests choose to hold onto their treasures, which makes perfect sense to me. The items that appear on the show are often steeped in family history—objects that have lived in homes, witnessed holidays, and quietly absorbed generations of stories.
It must be thrilling to learn that something you saw every time you visited your grandparents—maybe a vase on the mantel or a painting in the hallway—is not only meaningful but valuable. Then it passes to your parents, and you see it even more often. One day, your mom asks if you’d like to have it, and you don’t hesitate: “Of course.” Imagine taking it to Antiques Roadshow and hearing an appraiser say that this piece of your personal history is worth a small fortune. Would you give it up? I wouldn’t. I’d enjoy it for as long as I could and only consider selling it if my daughter said, “There’s no way I want to keep it.”
I have several pieces I’d be hard-pressed to part with—even if they turned out to be worth a lot of money. Most likely they’re not, but you never know. My aunt and uncle, and my mom and dad, were big antique people. I caught the bug from them. And now, every time I walk past a piece with a story, I try to picture them and their story.
I'd really love to know if you are a more modern style person or do you go for vintage?
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