My Father the Antique Dealer | 5 Minute Freewrite, Day 109

I grew up at a yard sale.

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As far back as I can remember, my father was an 'antique dealer.' That was the profession I knew. He had a seemingly infinite inventory of trinkets, old artifacts, junk, and all manners of items in-between. On Friday and Saturday mornings he'd awake before the sun, grab his newspaper that he'd circled excessively the night before, and begin his hunt.

He'd visit yard sales, garage sales, estate sales, sidewalk sales, and occasionally the weekend flea market if he could arrive early enough. Then, on Monday morning, he'd drive hours to the largest morning flea market in Florida so he could buy and sell before the sun came up.

Sometimes, I'd go with him. These are the brightest memories of my childhood with my father.

my dad was featured on this board game. he is the man in the top right corner photo source

My father was the man that rolled into the flea market, his truck piled-high with stacks of beer flats (flat boxes that house beer deliveries) full of trinkets. Some boxes had names on them for certain other dealers. People would follow my father's car to his purchased space. He'd set-up cheap card tables and arrange the boxes out like a street-peddler. It would be a free-for-all for a half hour, maybe a whole hour if it were a busy morning.

Always cash, always fast. Watches, statues, dishes, jewelry, coins, weapons, cultural tchotchkes, tools, paper. Paper was my father's favorite. Old postcards, postage, love letters from the civil war. He may not have been much of a reader but he adored old mail.

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he loved to collect old florida postcards especially source

When I grew up, I learned that my father had lived his dream. So many wait until the end of their lives to retire and pursue their hobbies but my father made a living - an inconsistent wealth - from his passion for history for most of my life. He inspired me to become an entrepreneur and to never put my dreams on hold for security.

He taught me that if I could dream it, I could do it.

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My father at his antique store, McNeal Antiques, which he purchased from his best friend and ran until he passed away in 2015. This was his dream and he lived it to the fullest.


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Hi, I'm Amelia! It's nice to meet you.

I'm a writer, minimalist, tiny home dweller, and maker living in East Tennessee, USA. My blog has lived at www.amelia-bartlett.com until I discovered Steemit, where I now post most of my work. To learn more about me, check out my introduction post, get up-to-date on my school bus tiny house conversion, and follow me for articles on slow living, sustainable fashion, self-expression, and quality curated resteems!

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