Hidden Treasure

The old box contained a treasure beyond belief, one that changed lives forever.

One of the earliest “truths” we learn is “Honesty is the best policy.” After all these years, the wisdom of this adage is worth remembering. Honesty allows you to lead an honorable life, one that helps you make your community a better place. Here is one such story.

A longtime guest (as you know by now we like to call our customers guests) came into the store. His wife had passed, and his only child, a daughter, was, as he told me, in California “trying to find herself in this life.”

He was carrying an old box about half the size of a briefcase and just about as thick, and I could tell something was not right. He asked in the humblest way, “Can I bother you for a few minutes in private?” 

We went into a side room that doubled as my office. He sat the box down on the table and apologized for being out of sorts, but his daughter had gotten into some trouble, and he was leaving later that day to go see her.

I immediately said, “What can I do to help you?” He didn’t elaborate on his daughter’s troubles (“it’s a Dad thing,” he said), but asked me if I could sell what he had in the box. Inside was a very old blackpowder revolver he bought years before for $25. He needed to sell it to help with the cost of the flight. I told him I wasn’t sure of its value, but I would take care of it for him.

“It would be great if you could get $400, but any amount will help a bunch,” he said. And then he left for California.

After he departed, I took a closer look at the box and its contents. The display box was common for that era. Beside the gun were slots for the various parts needed to shoot it. There was even a tool used to cast the bullets. 

I was sure there was some sort of history here and something of value. But I didn’t know exactly what. Here’s where the story takes an interesting turn. The school bus would drive right by the store, and the driver was kind enough to drop our daughter Anne off every day. She would come in and sit in the side room and do her homework. She would also share all the news of the day from school.

She looked at the box and said, “Daddy, I wonder if that box has a secret compartment like the story my teacher was telling us about in school today.” 

I stopped and looked closely at the upper edges of the inside lid. I spotted a small brad on the top center where a leather tag would have been, but I could not see any place where I could pry it open without damaging it. By now the adrenaline was rushing and because I get a bit emotional, I was shaking a bit.  In an act of sheer frustration, I took my finger and snapped it against the top, right on that brad. It popped open. I gently pulled it back; inside was a very old looking piece of paper. Luckily, I had enough sanity left and grabbed my leather gloves. Gently, I lifted it out. It was a handwritten note from Samuel Colt to the original buyer.

I called another guest of the store who worked at the Oklahoma Historical Society. He verified that what we had was special and that he knew of an honorable man who collects such items and might be willing to buy it. After several discussions, we agreed to a price of $55,000. To make sure I knew he was serious, he sent via FedEx a cash down payment of $5,000. Given that the gun was an antique, we could send it direct to the buyer, which we did. 

When this guest came home and dropped by the store, he shared all his hopes he had for his daughter before asking about the gun. Here’s how that discussion went.

Guest: Were you able to sell the gun?
Me: Well, yes. It took a bit, but yes.
Guest: Did you get $400 for it?
Me: No.
Guest:  Well, it was an old gun. We used to play Cowboys and Indians with it. Did you get close?
Me: No. (At this point, I was trying very hard to not smile. Truth is, I would be a lousy poker player.)
Guest: Well, that’s okay. Like I said, it was old and I only had $25 in it.  So, what did you get for it?
Me: 55.
Guest: Hey, 55 is twice what I paid for it.
Me: No, not $55. $55,000!

At that point, things got pretty emotional. I handed him the FedEx envelope, and we all laughed, cried, and celebrated. The money not only allowed him to take care of matters in California, but it let him pay off his house. He donated the balance to his church. We enjoyed his visits for several more years until he passed. 

I’ve told this story many times over the years, and more than once someone has remarked that since the deal was in cash I could have easily kept some of it for myself. True. But doing so would have changed the arc of this story.

Many years later I heard from his daughter. She told me that his visit to her was a turning point in her life. She enrolled in college, graduated at the top of her class, and was now married. When she gave the commencement address, she told the assembled crowd that a family-run gun range had helped make an impact not only her dad’s life, but on hers as well.

I was glad that I had been of help, but the credit really goes to both of them. They did all the hard work. All I did was honestly broker a deal. But the proceeds of that deal made a huge impact.

The Simple Truth is to be honorable. It allows you to make a difference in many lives.