A 57-year mystery solved...

...Kind of

Posted 9/4/19

After 57 years, a case of missing rare objects closes.

Yet it remains a mystery.

In the 6th grade, I took my coin collection to school.

It was a foolish thing.

Human nature being what …

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A 57-year mystery solved...

...Kind of

Posted

After 57 years, a case of missing rare objects closes.
Yet it remains a mystery.
In the 6th grade, I took my coin collection to school.
It was a foolish thing.
Human nature being what it is, that collection risked being stolen. And that’s what happened.
After showing the collection to friends, I stowed it in my desk.
Remember those desks with the large opening where you kept books? That’s where I placed the leather pouch. It was one I had made at 4-H camp with a Lowcountry marsh duck-hunting scene tooled into it.
Off to lunch I went.
When I retuned, my collection had vanished.
It sickened me.
Among those coins was a Seated Liberty quarter, 1861, and an Indian Head penny, 1898.
Each of those 2 coins had been a gift from my grandmothers.
Losing them wounded me.
It felt like the death of a pet.
When I got home I said nothing about the loss.
Dad would not have been happy that I did such a foolish thing.
I acted as if all were well and suffered in silence.
Back at school I peered into the eyes of classmates, seeking signs of betrayal.
I suspected one boy in particular. He had the makings of a career criminal.
No one, however, acted guilty.
The years rolled by, but I never got over the loss.
When I began writing columns for my hometown newspaper, I almost wrote a column that asked a bold question: “If you stole my coin collection back in 1961 in Mrs. Turner’s class, please ship it to me. No questions asked.”
After Mom died in 2015, my sisters and I began the sad task of going through our late parents’ possessions.
One Sunday afternoon in the attic, I was going through what I best describe as “stuff.”
There in a box sat my coin collection.
It had not been stolen after all.
Just how did this miracle come to pass?
It stunned me.
I sure didn’t have a case of childhood amnesia. I remember the last time I touched that leather pouch. It was the day I put it in that desk.
Here’s what must have happened.
Mrs. Turner saw me put that collection in my desk. As we lined up to go to the lunchroom, she took my collection from that desk, knowing it was at risk.
Later, she gave it to Dad, an easy thing to do since he drove a school bus.
Dad brought my coin collection home and waited for me to confess what I’d done.
I never did.
He must have forgotten that he had put it in that box, and the years rolled on.
Then, 57 years after it went missing, I found it in the attic.
After 57 years I put that nagging suspicion about a classmate to rest.
That’s the best explanation I can come up with.
The people who know the truth, Dad, Mom, and Mrs. Turner are no more, and so the mystery will forever remain a mystery.
Now none of my coins will fetch much money, but having that Seated Liberty quarter and Indian Head penny back mean a lot.
Those gifts from my grandmothers mean more than ever.
It’s my turn to hand these coins down.

down south, coin collection, tom poland

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