Columnist John Moore is the keeper of his family’s history. Including his parents’ vintage grandfather clock. Courtesy John Moore

The difference in a collector and a pack rat is whether you’re rich or poor.

Those with money are considered refined and people of taste. Poor people are pack rats.

I’m a pack rat. A proud one. But to clarify, I’m a neat and orderly pack rat. Just don’t ask my wife if she agrees with that statement.

There are family members who keep heirlooms and those who don’t. Most don’t. That’s why whenever someone says, “Whatever happened to dad’s (insert your family heirloom here), someone answers with the name of the family pack rat.

“He’s still got it?” they reply.

“Yes, he’s still got it.”

That’s because HE wound up with virtually all of it.

In my family, he, is me.

Like other savers, I can’t stand the thought of something in the family not being in the family.

I have my grandfather’s anvil and forge, his blacksmithing tools, apron, cap, and most importantly, his Bible.

My other grandfather was a dapper man who wore dress hats everywhere he went. I have them.

Dad’s mom had a beautiful cedar chest. Check.

Mom’s mom kept all of the family photos. Ditto.

My wife keeps some family items, but she isn’t like me.

Fortunately, I’m tolerated. I suspect I’m still around because I can fix the computer and reach things on the top shelves. That’s in spite of everything I’ve been offered and have accepted from family members.

You see, folks who aren’t interested in hanging on to things of value in the family always know who that other person is in the family who will keep it for posterity.

I received a call from a cousin who asked, “John, wasn’t your dad’s name Jimmie?”

“Yes, but he spelled it with a Y,” I answered.

“Well, we have a Bible that belonged to both of our great grandparents. There’s no date on it, but the inscription says, ‘To Mother and Daddy Moore, from Jimmie Moore, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.”

Which was odd, because my dad’s name was for sure spelled Jimmy. However, it was acquiring the Bible that led to me asking my mother why in the world he would have spelled his name differently when he was younger.

Her answer was that his parents had told him it was spelled that way, but when he got his birth certificate later in life, it was spelled with a Y. So, he began spelling it to match the certificate.

Not something I would’ve ever known if I hadn’t been the family hoarder.

When my dad’s dad died in 1978, my grandmother liquidated and then tore down his blacksmith shop. She couldn’t stand looking out the window and seeing it there. Of the two anvils, my dad got one of them.

When my dad was much older, he gave me his anvil during one of my visits. This made me wonder where the forge went. My mom remembered who bought it and the name of his grandson. The grandson was the one to find since both his grandfather and dad had since passed.

I was able to track the grandson down in Houston and bought the forge back to reunite the set. This process took a few months, but when you’re a pack rat, you can wait.

The anvil and forge are in my shop. I still use them.

When we moved my mom, I found lots of other Bibles. One was the one my grandmother gave me after I was saved. I hadn’t seen that Bible in years, and have had many other Bibles since. I’m thrilled to have it back.

Everyone isn’t interested in keeping everything, but for those of us who are, we are always on the lookout for that next family member to whom we can pass all of this on to when we’re gone.

My dad was the pack rat before me. He knew I was the one to take it all when he was gone, and that’s what I did.

One of my sons has already been identified and he’ll be the lucky inheritor of all of the family goodies.

That is, if my wife doesn’t find another computer repairman and doesn’t buy a ladder. If she does, I may wind up in the cedar chest and find myself out by the curb before then.

By John Moore, Owner of One Moore Production

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