Here's the backside of a silver dollar that was minted in 1884. Where were you that year? The answer, for all of us, is nowhere, because we would have to be 123 years old to have been on earth when this coin was minted, and there simply is no one in North America that old tonight.
Here is what was happening when this coin was born: The Democratic convention was held in Chicago in July 1884. Grover Cleveland was the front-runner from the opening of the convention. The only major opposition to Cleveland was from the New York Tammany organization. Cleveland received the nomination on the second ballot with 683 votes. Cleveland's opponent in the election was James Blaine of Maine. President Arthur attempted to receive the Republican nomination, but had little support. The only individual at the convention who had a chance to receive nomination other than Blaine was General Sherman. He ended speculation that he would run by making what has become known as a Sherman statement: "If nominated, I will not accept, and if elected I will not serve." Blaine won the nomination on the fourth ballot.
The major issue in the election was the integrity of the candidates themselves. Blaine was attacked for his close relations with the railroad interests, from which it was claimed that he received financial benefits. Blaine's opponents published what were called the "Mulligan Letters", which purported to show that Blaine received bribes. Cleveland, on the other hand, was attacked for being immoral for his affair before his marriage with Maria Halpin, which produced a son. The Republicans would chant, "Ma Ma Where's my Papa". Cleveland was able to defuse the story by telling the truth. Cleveland received the support of many reformers including several leading Republicans. Cleveland won the election in a close vote.
(courtesy of Wikipedia.)
Just imagine if this coin could talk, what she could tell us. How many hands have held her, felt her sensual thickness, rubbed her sweet spots. On her front side, the date of her issue is almost imperceptible; thus I asked her to turn over before photographing her.
Lady Liberty graces her front. For almost a century and a half, she has been passed, from hand to hand, much like some women are treated by men. Finally, now, she has found a safe home with me and mine. We don't treat the women we love like objects.
Still, a dollar is a dollar, right?
I suspect this one is worth a great deal more than that. Are there takers? After all, we all have a price, as do our attachments, right? If somebody wants to bid on this particular Lady Liberty, tell me.
But be prewarned, the markup may be great. After all, I don't give anything away cheaply, unless, of course, it is in exchange for a great story.
Because stories, unlike coins, save lives.
Oops. She has turned over. Here is her front!
-30-
1 comment:
I think the coin is safe in your hands. The person who might tell you a story worth you parting with it, I suspect might also be a person who has no desire or need for it.
Greed seems a poor inspiration for true tales that move us. I certainly like the look of it too much to make an attempt :)
I guess it might be a story about finding treasure, and a coin seen in the light of its journey is something more than its face value. Stories as treasures, and treasures as stories, what a web you have woven there, David LOL.
When I read your post I was reminded of a story I read a long time ago, I can hardly remember what or by who, about a coin that was one of those used to pay Judas to betray Christ. It caused unsettling fortunes for those whose hands it passed into. I guess that Pirates of the Caribbean films probably play on a similar idea.
I can quite relate to your pondering on how many hands its passed through. But I also wonder how long before coins themselves vanish from the lives of some nations.
I guess coins derived originally from the value of certain units of precious metals. And even when coins no longer reflected their value in material, it still makes sense to hold something that is equivalent in value to another thing.
How many things so vital to survival are moving towards being so abstract.
On another note, a memory from my own life. Coins as a child were obviously a means to desired things. But also they were objects of fun.
I can recall playing at the seaside on a game that paid you more coins if you rolled your first down a shoot in such a way that the coin fell exactly between the edges of a stripped surface.
Another machine was an ever moving contraption of shifting ledges, a waterfall awaiting the signal to flow, that showered coppers and sometimes silvers if you dropped it in the right spot.
Some of these machines still exist. They are among the best indications of dicey, risk laden investment I can think of. But the potential thrill of clatter of won coins is difficult to ignore.
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