Church rummage sale offers plenty of steals and deals; people watching is free

    You can learn a lot about humankind simply by attending a church rummage sale.

  There are rich widows, poor single moms, veterans in Korean War ballcaps, conspiracy theorists, infirm couples, giving people, inventive minds and compassionate volunteers. You’ll find home décor treasures, rare magazines, funky clothes, inexpensive furniture and mostly steals and deals.

   The best part is the people watching. I wondered about the teen-aged girl in a Barbie-pink outfit, pink knee-length socks and a purse that resembled an elephant. I heard the story about the serial urinator, who obviously copes with mental-health issues. He must be monitored lest he picks a corner and relieves himself. At the checkout station, I was told to open all luggage purchases in case someone tried to hide items inside. Of course, one volunteer found a dirty sweater on the floor and assumed someone wore one of our newer ones out the door.

    The Next To New Sale, held in spring and fall, generates more than $100,000 for our parish. Imagine the floor space of any high school gymnasium in the North Country. Fill the entire floor with tables, mount tables atop them, and fill every corner with display cases, shelves and racks. Add clothes, toys, electronics, jewelry and chotchkes. The school building gym floor of Blessed Sacrament Church is surrounded by a balcony that is jammed with furniture, rugs, lamps and books.

     “It’s all crap,’’ wisecracked one dedicated, but sarcastic volunteer, “but we love to poke through it and buy it.’’

   This sale is one reason why a River Rat from Morristown, while treasuring St. Lawrence River sunsets, loves city life. You celebrate the diversity of race, language and lifestyle, revel in the buzz of activity, and appreciate the outreach of my church. We ran an overnight shelter, and then for the past 40 years a weekday supper program. Outreach to the neighborhood remains the 11^th Commandment.

     “The best part of all this,’’ said my wife Mary, also a volunteer, “is that all are welcome.’’

  All kinds of people showed up.

   One fellow left excitedly from my checkout station with a copy of “Killing Patton’’ by conservative TV pundit Bill O’Reilly and Martin Dugard. He considered the $1 hardcover, a part of O’Reilly’s series on “Killing Jesus,’’ “Killing Lincoln,’’ and “Killing Kennedy,’’ a steal. What he bought was a speculative account that General Patton, paralyzed in an automobile accident near the end of World War II, was poisoned by Stalin. Historians panned it as preposterous.

    Around the tools section, a fellow interrupted my conversation about 9/11 to inform me that it was an inside job by our government. Same deal, he insisted, with John F. Kennedy’s assassination.

   “But don’t listen to me,’’ he said sarcastically with an exaggerated eyeroll. “I don’t know what I’m talking about it.’’

   I replied that I didn’t agree, but that he was entitled to his opinion. Because I hadn’t agreed with his discredited conspiracy theories, he walked away.

  I preferred the exchanges with the patrons excited to find a bargain. One young man bought 30 2-foot carpet squares for $1 each to fashion an area rug in his studio apartment. When a woman explained her need to find a bed for her 3-year-old daughter, I directed her to the Sleep In Heavenly Peace website, my volunteer group that has delivered more than 600 free beds. My favorite moment came as I watched our director, Dennis Meeh, make a sweetheart deal so that a developmentally challenged woman could buy “the dresser of her dreams.” She left so elated she seemed to float out the door.

   I thought I had witnessed the most satisfying moment when I introduced my wife to an ESOL teacher, Jean Sequeira, from my former school. Jean runs a plant sale to fund water wells in South Sudan, and was hunting for coffee mugs. “Great!’’ Mary said. “I have 200 hundred mugs sitting in boxes at my office that my organization could donate.’’ The deal was struck.

    But the most endearing moment came the next morning. A woman had paid cash at the upstairs furniture checkout, then left for the main floor to pay for items at the hold counter. She returned minutes later in a panic. She had dropped her envelope with about $100 in cash.

   “I’ve looked all over, and I can’t find it,’’ she said in desperation, and went home.

   Mary and another volunteer wrote down her name and cell number while the search continued. About 10 minutes later, an honest soul turned in the envelope, with the cash. It was an even bigger find than the woman who left with the LIFE magazine cover featuring Princess Di.

             Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitw rite.com/blog/