More of the story
This is and continues to be an emotional weekend for all. This “FIND” started about 7 years ago. On a trip to my parents in Florida, the halfway point is a crossroad town, Jesup. I usually didn’t drive through the town, but opted for the by-pass. One fateful day, I took the longer way and spotted an old Frigidaire store sign down a side street. I immediately (after checking traffic and signaling, of course) hung a right. When I got to the store, I peered through years of dust that covered a treasure beyond belief. There were dozens of washers, dryers, stoves, refrigerators and barely enough space to get between them. This is by no means an exaggeration. Years later, I would find out that this was only a preview of bigger and better things.
The store was closed and I had no idea who it belonged to. I made a mental note to stop by on my return trip, and found from a neighboring store, the owner’s name and phone number. I contacted the owner and he came and unlocked the store. I was in awe with the contents. [Note: I actually got my club name (Steve1-18) from the first “GM FRIGIDAIRE” washer I found; a pitiful harvest gold 1-18 sans the control panel. I still have it.] In this store were 1-18’s, and it’s precursor, the rollermatic. WOW! The owner was Harry Burns, a Jesup native. On subsequent trips to my folks, I would stop in and visit and little by little buy the old machines from him. We would “talk appliances” and I would ask questions about the repair, maintenance and evolution of the Frigidaire washer. Harry was a font of knowledge. On one trip, he took me to another store, that he used as storage space and to my delight, I got several rollermatics. I also met his son, Richard, who was kind enough to help me load those machines into my van.
During several of my conversations with Harry, he would mention a warehouse, but I was never permitted to see it or its contents. He said there were a few washers there, too. He said it was hard to get to and the grass was very high or the ground was too soft to drive on. For all the years that I knew Harry, I never saw the warehouse, nor did I know that it was only a few blocks from the store.
I spoke of a “gold mine” in South Georgia, but that was as far as I would elaborate. As an appliance prospector, I had to guard “my find.” There were a few trusted colleagues that I went so far as to revile the name of the town, but I made them swear on a Unimatic, that they were not to disclose it to another soul.
About a year ago, I stopped by and had what would be my last visit with Harry. I was at the old store, peering through the dusty windows, and Richard drove by. He stopped and we talked. His dad’s health was failing and he had good days and bad. Richard offered to take me to his father’s home. This is the first and only time I would visit Harry at home. Richard later confided with me, the day I was there was a good day. Harry remembered me and we sat on his porch talking appliances. This would be the last time I would see Harry.
Richard contacted me and said the store had been sold and if I wanted any of the remaining appliances to come down. He told me that his father wanted him to get a hold of that fellow in Augusta. It was then I involved Steve R. and Peter H. to help salvage what was left. On the first visit, I got to meet Harry’s wife and Richard’s wife. All three were pleased that Harry’s legacy would live on through us. The main purpose of this trip was to salvage any contents from the store and to see the warehouse, together, for the first time.
I was not too exited about going to the warehouse, as I had learned from experience, not to get my hopes up. Richard unlocked the padlock from the steel door. There was lots of junk at the entrance (Harry also had a plumbing and air conditioning business), but after literally climbing over old air handlers, evaporators (I’m talking industrial size, here) there was, under dozens of years of dust, what I could only liken to the tomb of King Tutt! Old stoves, refrigerators, washers, dryers, even a marble top soda fountain!
There were no windows and the only light came from the doorway and small holes in the roof. The electricity had been turned off, so all we could see was with the lights of electric battery lanterns. We knew what was there, but had no idea how we would get it out.
Richard called me in August, and said he had hired a crew to empty the warehouse, so, we had to make a move. And that brings us to this weekend.
Friday, we picked up a 24 ft truck and headed to Jesup. Steve R, Peter H. Rhinnie and me. We checked in to a motel and got to bed early.
Here’s where things began to happen. About midnight, Rhinnie’s leg started to hurt. It was serious enough, that at 1 AM I was heading back home with him. That left Steve R. and Peter H the DIRTY (AND I DO MEAN, DIRTY) job of loading all the treasures on the truck.
I took Rhinnie to the doctor early Saturday morning and she recommended seeing a vascular doctor first thing, Monday. His lower leg is not discolored, but he has pain and it is cold. Not a good sign. Keep us in your prayers.
The moving van, with 32 appliances, sits in South Carolina waiting to be unloaded, today. Then there will be more pictures.
Steve1-18
Steve1-18