"Would you rent this out for Halloween?"

Sitting on the couch with Drew and Drew gets a text "Do you want to come to a gun show"
He looks at me "Do you want to go to a gun show"
-"sure"
We turned off the TV and made our way to the address, located in the avenues.
As we pull up we get a call from Drew's friend
"I just thought I would give you some background before we go in"
(The friend talking to us as they pull up right behind us)

"This guy has a hook for a hand, he is collector and we are going to see his collection"

What happened after that no one could be prepared for.
And I don't even know how to briefly talk about it on this blog.

It started small, and I wish I could remember all the names and dates, but I can't.
The first room held a prop from the movie the Wizard of Oz and scrap metal from the Hindenburg.
A gun tour? I thought you said this was a gun tour? . . . I was just as confused.

We walked up stairs passing a painted portrait of the guy. (and one of his wife)
Into a room with a treasure chest of old coins, a first addition book of Mormon, original riffles from cool years (you can tell I was paying attention)

In this picture (and I thought this was kinda cool) I'm holding Porter Rockwell's gun.

The Destroying angel.

 Then the next room he had a code, a key and bared doors protecting whatever was behind it.
It was a light controlled, temperature controlled room, and I felt like Robert Langdon as I committed to not touch anything and was permitted to enter.

Beyond the bared door was a room, a bigger room, and an upstairs room and second room filled, filled with anything and everything you can think of relating to history.
Guns that were fought with at valley forge, blood-stained uniforms, presidential pins, notes, and pins, coins and pictures.

And Guns, guns like you wouldn't believe of every size and of every time period.
Along with the accompanying uniform of whoever might have shot that gun.
All original, all preserved.

And he would walk around with his pointing stick and tell us everything, as this ever-flowing fountain of knowledge.

My favorite part was President Lincoln's chair. . his actual chair. I have never felt more honest sitting in it.

KKK Uniforms, Adolf Hitler's personal hankey, and the President's pen.

 We ended the tour in the basement of the house on the topic of guns.
And of course he has his own shooting range in the basement. Of course.

We were at his house from 6:00-11:00 on a non stop tour, met his family, and asked way too many questions. It was the weirdest/greatest night.

I wonder if there is anything of mine that someone would treasure years from now.



Popular questions that I have gotten in telling this story

-Why doesn't he put it all in a museum?!?

He loves giving tours and talking to people, he loves it.
His kids give the tours too, and he loves that his kids are educated in our history.
He has scout groups, and classroom field trips and average Joes like me, going on tours all of the time.
He prides himself that his collection is comparable to the Smithsonian.
(and I think he likes to sleep by it.)

-What does he do for a living!?
 I asked him and he gave me 42 answers.
Something about secret service, and then something about Biochemical yadda yadda and curing cancer. What? yeah, I'm not sure.

-Can I go on a tour?
I don't know how, it was a friend of a friend of a friend for me.
And the entire time on the tour I was having a good time, but I wish I could have switched places with Kellen Jones or Suzie Bear, or anyone who would have loved it more then I did. I felt bad the entire time that I didn't know my history better and didn't deserve to be on a cool tour like that.