The Change Pot

Dad's idea of a fun day

(click on the link above)

Hey, does anyone know where Dad's coin collection ended up??

Those days when Daddy brought home the coin collection from his work's coffee fund were always dreaded, for me certainly - and I'm assuming for Jeanne, too. It was usually on a Saturday, and the dining room table was set up for either Jeanne or I to sort through the dimes, nickels and pennies to add to Dad's coin collection - taking all day, it seemed. The windows to the world outside were right there, too, taunting us.....

It was his collection, his hobby, in theory anyway. He did bring home the coins, and he did provide the collection books. He had a ready excuse that his eyesight wasn't good enough to see the tiny dates, so he needed sharp youthful eyes to pick out the details. Now that I'm roughly the same age he was when he did this I can attest to that eyesight issue...but it never occurred to me back then to buy him a magnifying glass.

I believe he would hijack the coffee fund at work to sort through for a rare find... the coffee must have been cheap because there were A LOT of pennies to sort through. Not that I should complain - the sorting did add to the list of chores I had to come up with each week in order to earn my 10 cent allowance, which I proceeded to spend on penny candy at Whitakers, or a 10 cent comic book. A penny for every chore. By about 7 or 8 pennies, I had to think long and hard about what I did to earn 10 cents. Changing the television channel for Dad (the time before remotes!), telling Dick and Ron that dinner was ready, and answering the phone were stretching it to 10.

A coin collection wasn't just about separating them into piles by denomination or finding the right dates to insert into the collection slot. We had to see where the coin was minted (small letter under the date, usually) and the material used - and I think we had to count them, too. There were other anomalies that needed attention, too, but I'd have to think long and hard to remember them. The monotony of sorting through the coins was interrupted by the occasional find, but once the books were mostly to fully filled the finds got harder and harder. And a "find" could be dashed by getting that little minted letter wrong. There really was no way to cheat through this process. We were given a certain amount of coins and our time spent sorting through them was monitored - so no cheating. Swishing through the coins and calling it a day wasn't allowed. Daddy was clever when it came to knowing the tricks a kid would use to get through the task quicker. He may have been a pro at dodging the occasional chore and new the tricks of the trade.

The smell of pennies en masse and the feel of my fingers after handling them for hours - what a treat for a Saturday or Sunday afternoon! Hey, what did you do this weekend? Counted pennies! Good old Daddy.

Someone somewhere may just be benefitting from our youthful labors. Maybe Dad cashed them in years ago. I kind of hope so.