Paul's Main Auction

I'd written decades ago or whatever. I was quite surprised to find that there are only four references which surfaced in those really didn't address subject matter I want to write about now. Which is weird because I know I've written about Paul's Main Auction before but this seems to be no record of it now. It's not a big deal after all it's only a blog.

I think I've detailed a number of times about how often Saturdays was a workday of one sort or another on the farm. Sometimes we would go with my dad when we got the “donated” coal, or when we would go to the shop to harvest the wood crates the furnaces would come in that my dad would install. There are other reasons that we would take off on Saturdays but many times during that diversion from work at home we would stop off at what I think was one of my dad's favorite haunts which was Paul's Main Street Auction. In Boise Paul's auction was the forerunner to garage sales. I didn't really notice of the time except there were just boxes and boxes the weirdest stuff I've ever seen. Started on Thursday Paul would open up the doors of his auction house/barn/Hall or whatever. People would drive their vehicles loaded with stuff and deposit these boxes on the platforms running up and down the auction house. They would register of course at the office and be given a number which corresponded to a number which is placed on the box so that if an item is sold the sale will be notated in Paul's auction would take their cut in the individual would get what's left. I'm sure we deposited more than one box over the years but I don't remember how it all turned out. But I know we purchased a few “treasures” over the years. Things like canning bottles, boxes of National Geographic and who knows what other treasures. Saturday morning the treasures would be put up for auction started around 10 o'clock with each auctioneer working for about a half an hour than trading off to the next auctioneer. Depending on the season all kinds of things showed up. In the fall there were boxes of pears and apples and green gauge plums straight of people's trees. Usually there were what seemed like hundreds of people jammed into the long building. There is also a greasy grill which fried up hamburgers and other delights which tasted incredible. Greasy flavors allocated to memories lost in youth where everything seems special and unattainable now regardless of how one searches. My best and worst memory of Paul's main auction was one day walking down the middle of the auction I looked down and happen to see to one dollar bills laying on the ground. I scooped them up and then feeling overcome with honesty walk straight to the office and turn them in as “lost”. The boss man in the office looked at me strangely, took the money and thanked me for my honesty that I walked back and told my dad. My dad looked at me strangely and kind of shook his head but smile just the same and said, “you know, he probably put those dollars straight into his pocket”. I cannot say I was devastated but I would certainly say I was chagrined.

It was a strange crowd that made up the folks at Paul's main auction on Saturday mornings. I was amazed the other day to find out that the auction still exists it just looks a little bit better than it did…