Saturday, I stopped to buy a snack on my way home from playing golf, and I paid in cash. The friendly clerk (Cashier? Money-changing technician?) at the counter cheerfully processed my transaction, gave me my change (a couple of bills and some coins) and sent me on my way with a “See you next time!” farewell that is the trademark of this regional convenience store chain.
When I got home, I immediately unloaded everything that was in my pockets: a couple of golf tees, a wrapper from a previous snack I’d eaten on the front nine, an acorn I found on the course (channeling my “inner squirrel), a button that had been living in the pocket for days or maybe weeks, or whenever I found it and decided my pocket was the best place for it at the time …
… and the aforementioned loose change.
After properly dispensing with–or disposing of–all the non-monetary items (I tossed the acorn into the front yard figuring some opportunistic squirrel would appreciate it), I did what I always do: I checked the dates on the coins. Usually, I’m unimpressed (most coins are from the late 1990s to present day), and after taking a look, I dump them into an old plastic container we use just for that purpose: to hold our loose change in the event that we ever get up the energy to cash it in. (We rarely do.)
But Saturday was different, and for me (a childhood coin collector who followed a long and storied line of coin collectors before me; OK, that list included one name: Mark Haznaw, my older brother), it was exciting.
Two things you need to know about me if you don’t already: 1) I don’t possess the collector “gene.” In other words, I’m not into memorabilia or acquiring the “entire series” of something; and 2) I don’t often “geek out” about things (though others may disagree).
But for me, there’s something about finding an old coin that excites me. And Saturday, that convenience store clerk gave me a wonderful gift: a 1917 U.S. penny.
When I discovered it, I told Joanie, and she provided a perfectly appropriate response to such a claim. “That’s so cool!” she said, and then she went back to whatever she was doing. I was fine with that.
Yet for me, this was like finding a dinosaur bone or a Civil War relic.
Here are a few random things that happened in 1917, the year this coin was minted:
The U.S. entered World War I.
Streetcars began running in San Francisco.
The U.S. paid Denmark $25 million for the Virgin Islands.
The first women-only bowling tournament was held in St. Louis.
The Silent Sentinels picketed in front of the White House to protest for women’s suffrage.
Fuel for cars was sold primarily at drug stores.
U.S. life expectancy was 48 for men, 54 for women
The concept of the grocery store, where people pick items off the shelves themselves, was introduced.
The most popular baby names were Mary and John.
The Chicago White Sox won the World Series. (I listed this since in 2024, they set a record for losses in a season.)
Different world back then, right? And you can bet that penny had much more value in that economy than it does today. But what’s fun for me is thinking about the travels of that coin throughout its lifespan. (I’ve written about this before. In my second book, I Told You I Was Dehydrated, you’ll find an essay about an old nickel titled “Spent, But Not Finished, After 80 Years,” in which I wonder who had held the coin, how it had been used, how often it was lost, how many miles it had traveled, etc.)
Today, a penny is worth practically nothing. And over the years, many have suggested doing away with it. I see their point. I mean, what does a penny buy? Nothing really. When I was a kid, it got you a piece of gum from a machine, but that’s about it.
Yet, pennies are still around as a form of currency, and some–like the one I received Saturday–have quite a history, one that shows when placed side-by-side with a newer model. And that’s cool … “geek out” cool.
In a couple of months, I’ll turn 60, and just like that 1917 penny, I’ll admit that some of the shine has worn off this old coin. Yet, when I’m 107 years old (and make no mistake, I plan to reach that age at full throttle), I hope I’m still meeting new people. And that when I do, I hope can offer something of value to them; not monetarily, but just through the experience of our encounter.
Here’s to old pennies … may they live on forever.
© 2024 David R. Haznaw