So, Dr. Gym-Partner and I went to the antique bottle show yesterday to sniff out some informants/interviewees. Like countless other collecting cultures, it was basically a flea market for expensive old junk. We met several collectors and dealers of antique bottles, and discovered that there are two ways into the business. There are those who buy their bottles and those who go outside and find them. We want to talk to the people who go out and find bottles. What a strange hobby: digging through old trash dumps. Perhaps the most surprising thing for me was to find out that these dump-diggers can find so many old bottles (phamacist bottles, liquor bottles, canning bottles, soda water bottles). Also surprising are the varieties in size, shape, and color. We met one digger who sells his finds so he can afford to buy torpedo bottles (round-bottom soda-water bottles that were designed that way to stay on their sides, keeping their corks moist during long overseas shipping journeys). I had no idea there was all this stuff beneath the city.
But under the city isn't the only place one can find old glass. We met another guy who told us that there are two kinds of bottle hunters: diggers and divers. This guy's hobby is diving in rivers, where he routinely finds Civil War-era beer bottles (I think he called it Three Piece Ale), "new" bottles from 1910-20, and the ocassional French wine bottle from the early 19th century. As he read the surprised look on my face (how do you know where to look?) he summed up his theory. "As long as people have been drinking," he siad, "they've been drinking by the banks of rivers."
We plan to starting getting interviews this week--the sounds of shovels digging and cars driving by should produce a nice ambience for the stories of these modern day treasure hunters, these local archaelogists of the junk trade.
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In the 1970s, my parents bought a piece of land that had once been a farm. We found a spot under a rock ledge that the farmers had used as dump: it was common at one time for people just to dump trash over a cliff. We used to dig through the pine needles and dirt to find old bottles. We never did anything with them except put them on the windowsills of my parents' house as decorative objects. My mother still has a kitchen window full of the cobalt blue ones; they are very pretty when the sunlight comes through them. I've got a spot in my woods that used to be a dump, too, and one of my kids dug up a little cobalt blue jar to add to my mother's collection. In rural areas, you often see old bottles for sale at garage sales and I always wondered who bought them.
I'm sure that's how a lot of collectors get started--just by finding a few things in the backyard or the woods. Then, the dealers, I'm sure, hit flea markets and garage sales looking for great deals that can turn a big profit. Though some of the bottles at the show were modestly priced, it seemed like lost bottles were selling for $50-100. Some were priced up near a grand.
Another interesting thing are the old canning jars. This may be where the ridiclous American proclivity for branding got started. Each "different" jar brand had some sort of flashy name and color: The Hero, Lightening, Empire, The Economy.
Nevertheless, most of this stuff was hand made, and non-uniform in size, shape, and color. I'd probably put them in my window, too, if I found a bunch in the back yard.
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