I saw a quote someplace that read, “Good friends are like stars, you don’t always see them, but you know they are there.” I guess I have believed that for most of my life. It’s funny how certain people come in and out of your world, play important roles in different ways, create moments of happiness and pain through laughter and tears, play together, collect together, work together, experience life together.
In 1985, I was a high school sophomore, slumped in a chair in the back of second-period English when I found myself sitting next to this tall guy wearing a 49er Starter jacket and sunglasses; that’s when I first met Ben Johnson. Ben and I quickly became best friends – a close relationship that would carry us through high school, college, and well into our 20s. Both sports fanatics, we watched too many games to count, easily played more than 1,000 rounds of one-on-one basketball, competed non-stop on every video game you can imagine, and were partners in crime in our dedication to collecting, mostly sports cards.
We were together the first time I got drunk, for my first car accident, and the night we spent trash-talking Jason Kidd at our favorite bar in San Francisco, Johnny Love’s. To this day, Ben and I are two of only three people I’ve ever known to get thrown out of Dick Clark’s American Bandstand in Reno, Nevada. Good times and good memories indeed.
Like most high school and college buddies in the 80s and 90s, we had a ton of inside jokes, had epic road trips, and shared some crazy times we could never speak of to anyone. Ben was my best man when I got married and as we started our adult lives with significant others, jobs, and eventually children, unfortunately, we drifted apart without even realizing it; no fight or disagreement. No one moved out of the area or suddenly started being a fan of the L.A. Dodgers (more on that later).
I consider myself a loyal friend, someone who always picks up the call. I tend to forgive and forget easily. So, the fact that Ben and I lost touch and never reconnected was, and still is, very strange to me. I would send an occasional email when my March Madness Pool would roll around, but he never participated or replied. Like the quote suggests, “Good friends are like stars, you don’t always see them, but you know they are there.” I always thought – no, I knew that we would reconnect at some point, perhaps when life slowed down. That firm belief would go unfulfilled. In June of this year, I got word that Ben had passed away from an unexpected heart attack. He was only 49.
After reconnecting with Ben’s family, I offered them assistance with anything they needed, which found me at Ben’s home helping them pack up some things to prepare the house for sale. Being in his home without him, seeing his family who I felt like I grew up with, and finding out that Ben had a beautiful young daughter was one of the more surreal moments of my life. You don’t expect to be asked to sift through the remains of a friend’s life, but at some point, we will all be called to the charge.
Ben and I started collecting over 30 years ago. To say that he had an unbelievable collection is an understatement; it was vast (and that is coming from me, a serious collector). Over the years, Ben sourced everything from pennants to sports cards, sports memorabilia of all kinds, Lego®, video games, helmets, programs, and the list goes on and on. His collection was massive – nearly overwhelming – and not cataloged. The task was daunting, but I knew that helping sort through the items he treasured would be the last gift I’d be able to give to my buddy Ben.
Over the past few months, I have worked with Ben’s family to sort his collection, determine values, and try and sell a good portion of it towards Ben’s daughter’s future. The process has been challenging and interesting, to say the least, and one I’m willing to share.
I encourage you to visit this blog where I will document my collector journey, including researching and selling parts of Ben’s collection. It will include details on all types of collectibles, explore specific markets, offer tips and resources for how you can buy and sell collectibles, and even provide tips on shipping an extensive collection.
While this blog and future posts will be more collectible focused, it will always include a human element. Collectors often have sentimental reasons for doing what they do – dig deep enough, and there’s always a story behind why a person searches for a Chewbacca film-ready head, vintage ceramic Christmas trees, or Funko Pop! figurines; that’s why I felt it was important to share the story of Ben, our friendship and our shared interests for cool collectibles.
I will leave you this: learn to appreciate what you have before time makes you appreciate what you had. Don’t wait . . . call a friend today. And catalog your collection!
