The Anatomy of Estate Sales, Part Four

by Jean Hubbell Asher

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This particular estate sale had the luster of a wonderful setting with sweeping views of Long Island Sound and, to top it all off, an interesting history. A painter, Vincent Colyer, had bought the house and its many acres in 1866. Subsequently, he sold nine of the acres to another artist and friend, John Kensett, an American 19th century luminist and naturalist. Kensett built a studio on the property and there he painted until his death trying, unsuccessfully, to save the life of Colyer's wife who drowned  in Long Island Sound.
       Voyeurs mingled with buyers and the sale went well, even including that dreaded first hour. They came and they bought...but there were more than a few glitches before the sale ended: a golf cart displayed at the head of the driveway,  regrettably, was found by a young child who disengaged the emergency brake. Fortunately, someone jumped in and reapplied the brake preventing a near disaster in the making. 

     There was a car that managed to get stuck on the shoulder of the driveway but its position didn't impact on the sale until the tow truck came to extricate the offending vehicle and blocked the driveway. For anyone trying to pick up furniture purchases, there was a frustratingly long wait. 

     There were a set of working decoys in the barn, a considerable distance from the house, which managed to get sold twice. One buyer paid for them in the barn, packed them up and left while another buyer paid for them in the house, went to pick them up and discovered that they were gone.

     Next came the bidding section of the sale, historically the other collision course setting  characteristic of estate sales.  By its very nature, the process is fraught with problems. The early crowd had returned with their 'must have' mentality. The day before they had lined up for access to the house; the second day the lineup was for access to the bid book. Bid book in hand and finally their turn, they anxiously check out the bids left by a previous bidder for that item and then enter their own higher figure. Bid entered, bid overwritten by the next in line and on and on until 11 am when the bid were closed.

   The estate sale sellers needed approval from the owner to sell at the bid price. This can take a while as the owner hems and haws. Meanwhile, the bidders wait and wait, and as noted before, waiting buyers are an edgy lot. Finally, with the bids approved, it should have been smooth sailing, but it wasn't.

    While this scene was unfolding, workers were selling the available pieces in their particular room only to find out that the piece just sold already had an accepted bid,  resulting in both a disappointed buyer and a frustrated worker. Other hopefuls found their bids rejected by the owner who had decided to insist on the full price or nothing. The prospective buyer had spent considerable time and emotional capital and now they were right back to the status of full price or nothing. Most bidders were rewarded with bargains but the tension of bid time, especially for this sale, did take its toll.

     Glitches aside, the sale had definitely been worth waiting for. By the end of the second day, all that remained were the odds and ends; the multitude of items that had sold had sold very well.

     The primary factor for a sale being selected by an estate sale company is a strong inventory. However, there are some sales you just have to do: for a friend in need, or, in this case, for a real estate broker who had been an excellent referral source. She and her husband needed to clear out the house where his parents had once lived: a modest, and now very run down, house near the railroad tracks. The location would not be a draw. Up for sale were a dozen or so pieces of brown reproduction furniture and odds and ends from the kitchen. It was clear that the merchandise would not be a draw, either. It would be, though, an easy sale to set up, price and run for it would be very low overhead with a skeletal work force and minimal ads. All in all, this sale would be more appealing to the tag sale crowd than the more usual high end estate sale followers.  The merchandise was very salable, if not exciting.
         The first day of set up was an oppressive one due to the weather. Outside, it was like a stage set for Noah: sheets of rain; inside, all was dark and dank.  The condition of the house was deplorable and the electrical system less than adequate. In the midst of a dreary set-up, a carpenter came to replace the rotted out basement steps. His throw away comment,  "Have you checked out the chicken coop?" changed the course of the sale.
        The chicken coop in the small backyard with a caved in roof, was definitely out of bounds that day,  given the weather. The next day, though, we 'checked out'  the chicken coop which had a main section that was 10x12' or so, with some add-ons. It was a mass of dirt, actually compost, and wet leaves from the rains. Jutting out of this uninviting and daunting landscape were pieces of china and glass. We casually started to excavate the pile wearing heavy gloves for fear of rodents, which were a very real possibility, and the breakage of the very things were were trying to salvage. One of us very quickly found a nice set of Heisey glasses, miraculously unbroken, but mired in dirt; another found a sterling bowl and another found a large collection of Victorian shoes. We were hooked. 

     We had three diggers, one dish washer as there was no automatic dishwasher, and one runner from the chicken coop to the kitchen and back. This went on for the three remaining days prior to the sale literally unearthing quantities of silver, glass ware, porcelains, toys, holiday decorations. Sadly, none of this was in time for the ad because the 'buried treasures' were unknown to the family. We didn't  find any rodents but we did find a Tiffany vase, worth $1,000, and an endless stream of pieces, mostly intact, which enhanced the sale by many thousands of dollars. After the sale, digging rights were sold to a dealer who worked for many weeks in the now frozen ground. He was delighted with his salvage:  more Victorian shoes, a fan collection, old toys, etc.

     We never did learn the full story of the chicken coop treasure which was also buried with the clients' parents. This had been their first house in the town before they moved to the 'high rent' district when their local business prospered and the little house by the train tracks was rented. It was our understanding that the client's mother had moved back to this house for her final days. Were these her things or had they belonged to one of their tenants? We never did find out.

     We could only deduce that they had been placed neatly on shelves but as the coop disintegrated,  the shelves collapsed. Even in the midst of all the rubble, there was an overarching structure: silver in this corner, dolls to the right and so on. Someone had cared about these things and now they were about to witness a resurrection. Finding unanticipated treasures is a high;  giving them new life is a thrill. 

     All of these sales are like a 'moveable feast', first one set of treasures and then on to the next round. The format and the sellers remain the constants while everything else changes:  the merchandise, the location, the owners, the buyers. The three sales cited in this series of articles all had their own personalities which are really the confluence, once again, of the owners, the sellers and the buyers. It is that interaction that creates a sale's aura and provides the 'stories.'

 

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