estate sale/tag sale

allen levine

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new york city burbs
I only lined up a couple of panels to spray today, so Im pretty much free the entire day so decided to check out one estate sale I saw listed 15 minutes from me.
It stated lots of tools, so why not.

there I was, at 10 am, just when they opened the doors
I heard the woman at the door tell a man there is a tool room in the back of the home.
I rushed back there, it was the smallest woodworking shop Ive ever seen.

maybe 6x8, but filled with every possible machine one would need.
there was a sears ts, with a sears router table on top of it, with pc routers on top of that piled up, mostly craftsman and ryobi tools. Nothing great, bandsaw, grinder, drills, cordless tools, dremel, just an entire collection.
there were 2 planes, nothing, handyman? and another cheap brand, but I took them for 3 bucks each, the lady stated make us an offer, everything has to go.

but its sad. I walked around the home, even cans of food inthe closets were offered, meaning someone recently passed, and whatever relatives are left, are emptying the home, and selling it.
I looked quickly, Im very observant, a bedroom closet full of womans clothes, obviously the only person left there.
So I stood in this tiny shop, realized this guy,(could be the woman, but it had a mans feel)
probably spent 1000s of hours in this tiny closet shop, surrounded by everything he loves, and now me and all these strangers are rummaging through it, it felt kinda personal, almost didnt like the feeling.

when I dropdead, I hope no strangers rummage through my stuff, Id rather my son sell it piece by piece, just a weird feeling.

I made an offer on a ryobi circular saw, looked almost new, in the case, but they wanted 60 or 50, but I only wanted to pay 30, so I moved on and took the planes.
there were a zillion organized containers of hardware, a lifetime collection of screws and nails, and alot of hand tools, saws, screwdrivers, all hung neatly on pegboard, but it was all mostly cheap stuff, so I didnt bother, but looked it all over.

lately, Ive been seeing tag sales every day of the week around me. there must be 100 locally listed within 45 minutes of me this weekend, maybe more if I looked online or the local pennysaver.
IM going to attend an arts and craft fair in eisenhower park tomorrow, always interesting if I find a fellow woodworking, probably see a couple of turners.
 
I live just a few minutes from the NM State Fairgrounds, where every weekend they have the largest flea market in the state. I drop by every once in a while to poke around through the tools and stuff. So far no major finds (with the exception of a mini lathe that I bought to resell), but it's fun hunting for gems among the rubble.

I can only imagine how an estate sale like you described must feel, though. Like you, I think I'd feel a little strange (and reflective) digging through some guy's shop.
 
Well, let's look at this from a different angle. Maybe that guy is happier knowing you are digging through his stuff and buying what you like/treasure. Better than someone calling for a dumpster and pitching all of it. Tears me up when watching Pawn Stars and some young punk walks in and sells something his grandfather gave him. I don't care if he did sell if for a couple of hundred. Stuff my Grandpa thought enough of to actually give me, it is priceless. Selling it would be treason to my Grandfather's memory.
My cousin bought his first house from a realtor that the couple had died and there was food in the fridge and stuff in the dishwasher, his and her clothes in the closets, beds made, etc..
 
it was sort of in a room behind a tiny room in the back of the house, with something like a homemade plank door, and I didnt see how anyone would get the tablesaw through the door without taking it apart. the door way was maybe 20 inches wide at best.
 
... Tears me up when watching Pawn Stars and some young punk walks in and sells something his grandfather gave him...

Same here. Although I do have things from my parents and grandparents that I would be willing to sell or give away, anything that was specifically given to me will never leave the family, at least not while I'm still alive.
 
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