This story hearkens back to a day when vinyl was still considered fodder in my region of the United States; way back to the summer of 2015. Please read that as sarcasm.
At that time, I had only been seriously rebuilding my collection for about 6 years. Since I was, and still am for the most part, Child-Support-Bankrupt, I had a very small collection of 100 vinyl records consisting of some Van Halen, Beatles, Johnny Cash, AC/DC and Scorpions as well as a few soundtracks and other "cheap" buys I could come across.
A friend of mine, who I shall call Melody (you know, to protect her and her father's identity, who, her father, I shall call Jim) called me up.
Well Melody's uncle, who I shall call Jack, passed away and left Jim a non-climate controlled storage unit the size of a single car garage. It was filled with vinyl. I wasn't hopeful that anything would be salvageable. I mean, Oregon can get hot in the summer time, but is always cool and wet in fall, winter and spring. These are not ideal conditions for vinyl and their sleeves and non-climate controlled storage units do little to protect the items stored within.
How about a little back story.
Jack, again, Melody's uncle, was known for going to garage sales on Sunday afternoons; within hours of closing for the weekend and buying out all their vinyl. Jack did this for 20+ years. He would go to the sales near closing because that was when he could score the best deals and by deals I mean, $5 for a box of records.
Now, if you do the math on that; one or two boxes per sale, hitting roughly three sales a weekend is upwards to six boxes of vinyl each weekend. Now multiple that 52 weeks in a year, as I am told he didn't miss a chance to go Sunday sales hopping, and you have 312 boxes a year.
But let's reduce that number to a quarter of that because some garage sales may have sold their vinyl before he got there, or refused to sell it so low, or hell everyone gets sick from time to time, so there may be two or three weekends a year that Jack didn't do his Sunday shopping. So let's say that Jack scored 78 boxes of vinyl each year.
And Jack did this for 20+ years. But lets make the math easy... let's just say he did it for 20 years. That's 1560 boxes of vinyl over twenty years.
It's not that hard to do really, even today. To the common non-collector, the boxes are heavy, take up a lot of space. They are cumbersome and generally unwanted.
Nobody who isn't a "vinylphile" wants to haul those big, heavy boxes back into their garage at the end of a garage sale. Instead they can close out their garage sale with a little extra cash and a lot less to carry. It's a win/win scenario.
As it turn out, when Jim (again, Melody's dad) and his wife first arrived at the storage unit on their own it was filled floor to ceiling, front to back with boxes; boxes of vinyl and a few cassettes. Now this may seem like an exaggeration, but I promise you it is not.
Jim, his wife and a couple of kids began loading their cars and a trailer with literally tons of vinyl.
When they got to their country home and started going through the boxes they were mainly looking for Beatles albums... something they thought they could sell for high dollar amounts. Jim and his wife really didn't find much they thought would make them rich. They found a few, but they had no personal use for vinyl as they weren't collectors. At this point, Jim and his wife saw this as a huge burden.
The rest of the vinyl, the majority of it (98%)...
Well I don't know how to break this to you other than just to say it...
Jim threw them on the burn pile and set it ablaze.
I found out later that it had some Journey, Kiss, Black Sabbath, Rolling Stones and many others (those were the names they recognized, but not interested in). All that vinyl when up in flame and smoke.
Do you see why I changed their names?
It wasn't until a few weeks later that he let Melody in on the storage unit story, sharing it as a burden. Jim had not gone back to finish cleaning it, mainly because there was money owing on it and they were locked out until the back rent was paid. Melody instantly IM'd me and filled me on all the details, including the burn-party fiasco.
I immediately responded and said that I was in.
A week later I arrived at the storage unit, meeting Jim, Melody and the rest of family. The storage unit door was opened and it was still half full.
I was both elated and devastated at the same time. But in the end, there was no time for dilly-dallying in the horror of what happened before I got there, the summer sun was burning the sky, toasting our flesh, and we had some heavy lifting to do. Jim gathered us all together and gave us three instructions and only three instructions;
- "First and foremost, any Beatles albums are mine."
- "Load your car up and take it home. I never want to see it again; unless it's Beatles."
- "Next week or two you can come over and go through all the remaining boxes."
And we did just that. My wife and I loaded our mid-sized SUV to the point that the suspension was compressed enough that the rear wheels of our car were at risk of rubbing in the inside of the wheel wells.
I grabbed some cassettes while I was at it.
We also loaded everyone else's cars as well, cause we aren't jackholes.
We didn't spend any time digging at that point, we just lugged boxes and boxes of anonymous music into our car, then on Jim's trailer and car and then into other family members cars. It took about an hour and a half for seven of us to load everything up.
I grabbed some cassettes while I was at it.
We also loaded everyone else's cars as well, cause we aren't jackholes.
We didn't spend any time digging at that point, we just lugged boxes and boxes of anonymous music into our car, then on Jim's trailer and car and then into other family members cars. It took about an hour and a half for seven of us to load everything up.
But there was still 30 or 40 boxes that wouldn't fit anywhere.
So there needed to be return trip, but my wife and I wouldn't be involved with that trip.
After all the cars were loaded, we dug through some of the remaining boxes, to to see if there was anything worth scoring before we left, thinking this might be our only chance to do so... ya know, with Jim's penchant for fire.
And there was plenty to score during our digging. Star Wars, Popeye, American Graffiti soundtracks... a little rock, a little old country, some blues. There was just so much. And then, excited yet decidedly exhausted and hot, we went home with our bounty.
So there needed to be return trip, but my wife and I wouldn't be involved with that trip.
After all the cars were loaded, we dug through some of the remaining boxes, to to see if there was anything worth scoring before we left, thinking this might be our only chance to do so... ya know, with Jim's penchant for fire.
And there was plenty to score during our digging. Star Wars, Popeye, American Graffiti soundtracks... a little rock, a little old country, some blues. There was just so much. And then, excited yet decidedly exhausted and hot, we went home with our bounty.
My wife and I spent the next couple of days going through our troves of boxes of records. No Beatles were to be found, but there was tons of other bits of joys.
For every 20 records we rejected, we added one to either my collection, or my wife's collection. The rejected records weren't rejected because of condition, but because of content. Stuff like Christian albums, duplicates, Christmas albums, big band albums, classical albums, etc. In total I added over one hundred records to my personal collection and my wife added around fifty.
For every 20 records we rejected, we added one to either my collection, or my wife's collection. The rejected records weren't rejected because of condition, but because of content. Stuff like Christian albums, duplicates, Christmas albums, big band albums, classical albums, etc. In total I added over one hundred records to my personal collection and my wife added around fifty.
Our den looked like we were being featured on an episode of Horders. But it was worth it.
In my collection I was able to add albums from artists like Johnny Cash, Heart, The Go-Gos, James Cotton Blues Band, The Platters, Willie Nelson and many more. Easily, I doubled the size of my collection from this single car load.
Over the next two weeks, I took many of the rejects and duplicates to my friend Melody, who was already inundated with her score from that initial haul, but I wanted to give her chance to dig through. Once Melody cried uncle, I offered the remainder of the rejects to friend. Once they cried uncle, what was left of the rejects, thousands really, I donated to my local animal shelter's thrift shop.
And then, just as we were rid of all that unwanted vinyl, came the call came; it was time to go dig through the remaining vinyl that we didn't have room for during that initial load.
We arrived at Jim's property in the country. He has a few acres with a house, a barn, a goat, chickens and an old manufactured home on it. The manufactured home was used as storage.
We were led through the door of the manufactured home, and led into a back room where the familiar smell of musty boxes of records were stored. Hundreds of boxes of records holding tens of thousands of records just waiting to be gone through.
We were led through the door of the manufactured home, and led into a back room where the familiar smell of musty boxes of records were stored. Hundreds of boxes of records holding tens of thousands of records just waiting to be gone through.
For three solid, literally non-stop, hours the four of us sifted through box after box after box after box. Pulling out some important pieces of jazz, blues, old country, rock, pop and Disney (for Melody)... albums were flying from storage boxes into milk crates and loaded into cars. Sorted boxes of rejected albums were methodically moved into a different room once the box had been looked through by one of us.
It was a grueling three hours of sweet dreams coming true.
It was a grueling three hours of sweet dreams coming true.
Again there were tons of duplicates, Christmas albums, Christian albums, big band albums that nobody had an interest in. But my wife walked away with over one hundred albums of the stuff she loved; Sound of Music soundtrack, some opera, some pop, some newer country, Top Gun and Dirty Dancing soundtracks. She scored in a big way.
I also scored in a big, but much different way. I scored the likes of an original pressing of Bob Dylan's Highway '61 Revisited (plus even more Dylan), Rolling Stones' Out of Our Heads, Superman Soundtrack, Steve Miller's Greatest Hits, Ray Charles, Patsy Cline, Peggy Lee, Johnny Cash (over 19 new albums of his in total), Otis Redding, Nina Simone, 20 different Nat King Cole albums, Miles Davis, The Kinks, The Kingsman, Kenny Rogers, Johnny Paycheck, Joan Baez, Jane Morgan, Helen Ready, Hank Williams Sr., Hank Jr., Elvis, The Doors, Dave Clark Five, Connie Francis, Chicago, Billy Joel...
And so many more.
All in all, I grew my collection from just a hundred records to well over four hundred.
My wife, Melody and Jim pulled out a huge number of records as well.
Little did I know that in four months I would be moving across town and would have to pack, move and unpack all that vinyl once again.
My wife, Melody and Jim pulled out a huge number of records as well.
Little did I know that in four months I would be moving across town and would have to pack, move and unpack all that vinyl once again.
I went in to this epic dig not expecting a lot in return. It was a non-climate controlled storage unit after all. I expected to find warped, scratched and water damaged records; something you'd expect from a collection stored in non-climate controlled conditions with cardboard boxes stacked on top of each other from floor to ceiling.
I also expected to find a lot of old gospel, big band stuff that my grandma would have loved; and I did find lots of that, but I found a lot of records that I loved as well. And while I cried on the inside at the records that were destroyed before I got involved, I still do, as a matter of fact, I rejoiced in the musical gems I did find and was able to save.
I also expected to find a lot of old gospel, big band stuff that my grandma would have loved; and I did find lots of that, but I found a lot of records that I loved as well. And while I cried on the inside at the records that were destroyed before I got involved, I still do, as a matter of fact, I rejoiced in the musical gems I did find and was able to save.
Over three hundred albums that I was able to save from the next inferno. I was able to to save over $9000 of music (if I had to purchase them from a record shop or online). I was able to add all this to my collection for nothing more than an investment of my time and energy.
Five hours.
That's all it cost me to acquire so much music that I love. Five hours and I more than tripled my music collection; and that's not even counting the two hundred my wife added to her collection or the uncounted number of records that my friend, Melody, added to her collection. It was well worth the investment.
Would I do it again?
Of course I would. In a heartbeat. It's a lot of work and a little heartbreak, but what started as a horror story, well, it ended more like a fairy tale for me.
Five hours.
That's all it cost me to acquire so much music that I love. Five hours and I more than tripled my music collection; and that's not even counting the two hundred my wife added to her collection or the uncounted number of records that my friend, Melody, added to her collection. It was well worth the investment.
Would I do it again?
Of course I would. In a heartbeat. It's a lot of work and a little heartbreak, but what started as a horror story, well, it ended more like a fairy tale for me.