I recently spent five days in the northern part of the state, helping a life-long friend prepare for, and clean up after, a large farm auction.
My friend, Ron, was having the sale because his brother (whom he farmed with, in partnership) had been tragically lost in an auto accident over a year ago and the equipment and belongings were to be auctioned off to settle the probate.
The first portion of the sale was held during the day and consisted of tractors, machinery and livestock handling equipment. Since I have been to many of these auctions in my lifetime, nothing surprised me, as there was a large crowd and the bidding was active. There were some bargains to be had, as usual, but I thought most of the equipment brought about what the market allowed. It was the night-time auction, however, that brought about the surprises for me.
Ron’s brother had been a farm toy collector his entire life, and had almost 500 toy tractors and implements in his possession at the time of his untimely death. Those toys were to be auctioned inside a comfortable, air-conditioned community building in a nearby town that evening. The sale would also be aired on the Internet so that people all over the country could participate in real time. After the long, hot and stressful day we had all had, I was looking forward to sitting for a while.
Since I had never been to a toy auction in my entire life, I expected to be a little surprised, and I was. Depending on the abundance or scarcity of each model, the toys were bringing anywhere from $50 to as much as $400, as the auctioneer sold them quickly, one at a time. The first couple hundred toys were in their original boxes and, as expected, were at a premium. But, between the boxed toys and the next 300 or so that were without their box, the auctioneer announced that they had found an empty box that could not be matched with any of the other tractors. He was going to auction off that empty box.
“This should be a hoot,” I said with a laugh to the previously unknown gentleman to my right. “If that auctioneer can sell an empty box, he’s gotta be the best.”
“Who’ll give me $10? Now $20 …now $30 …now $40?”
I’m sure my face was ghostly white as I looked over to my newly-made friend and mouthed, “What the……?”
He smiled and winked as he entered the bidding at $50.
“Now $60 …now $70 on the Internet …now $80,” continued the fast talking auctioneer.
I slumped back in my seat as I watched an empty, flimsy cardboard box that had once contained a 1/16th scale toy tractor, sell for an even $100.
“I sure would like to have owned that,” my new friend to the right stated. “But I just couldn’t see it worth more than $90 for myself.”
I’ve been to three county fairs and a goat-ropin’, and a taffy pull and have never witnessed anything that compared to the selling of an empty box.
