I don’t get a lot of visitors in the Ghetto. It seems no one wants to risk life and limb to come visit me and the spastic dog I keep. Yes, now and again we’ll have some tag-alongs. Once in a while we’ll even have a family dinner here, but for the most part I’m the one going to everyone else.
The first Sunday after we tilled up the front yard, however, Brooke decided to stop by for a chat. It was the most excitement I’d seen all week. I mean, no one ever stops by during the week, let alone on a Sunday. We were chatting in the living room when suddenly there was a knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” I wondered aloud knowing that anyone who ever visits was already there in the living room.
When I opened the door I found a round ruddy face with puffy cheeks and shaggy eyebrows. The man smiled politely, perhaps even a little bit sheepishly. He spoke,
“I’m sorry to bother you, and I’m sure you’ve had several people ask already, but I have this metal detector and I was wondering if I could look for metal in your yard? I won’t be long, my machine is old, and I won’t hurt anything.”
To say the least I was baffled, perhaps amused, and certainly intrigued. In fact NO ONE had asked to sweep our yard with metal detectors, and his suggestion that several people had at this point, amused me. I thought, I know this is the ghetto, but not THAT ghetto.
He seemed harmless enough, I figured, well, this will be great for the blog, so why not. He smiled at my consent and went out to detect. Then I grabbed my camera and went out to take his picture.
He used the shovel to scoop up dirt and sift through what was there. And just as he said, he wasn’t out there very long. About forty-five minutes later there was a knock at the door.
“Would you like to see what I found?”
Old pennies, maybe $0.26. Two worn brass chunks. And a wheat penny.
He shined the wheat penny up on his pants so I could get a better look at it. Wheat pennies were minted from 1909 – 1958 and depending on their state can be worth a hundred or even a thousand times their “retail” value. I hope he get’s a pretty penny for this coin.
It was really great to see what he found in my yard. So incredible to think about all the people and stuff that’s blown through that dirt. He thanked me for the time to search and he left.
I figured that that was the end of that. Not an unpleasant experience and really quite fascinating. I was ready to forget the whole thing. Then Monday came.
Monday was a long day of leveling the front yard and by 3:00 pm I was exhausted but I still had things to do. Just before 5:00 pm, just as I was getting ready to run some errands, there was a knock at the door. Another old man stood on my porch asking if he and his friend could metal detect my yard. I was surprised. Really? Really? I mean not once but twice? He promised to leave everything the way he found it and reluctantly I said yes. I didn’t want him messing up the work I had spent all day doing, but I was intrigued to see what he would turn up.
He went to work digging and scrapping, and then filling and smoothing. For over an hour he was outside going over the same area as the man before him. By the end of the hour I was late for some friends and I ended up leaving him out there to do his thing. So I didn’t see what he found, but didn’t think there could be much.
And then on Tuesday at just around 5:00 pm again, there was a knock at the door. SERIOUSLY!
Welcome to the ghetto!