I held, handled and was offered a Henry 1860 Iron frame upon the passing of the owner. Great gun. He used to shoot it still into the late 60's because they had ammo for it still. When he passed the gun was gone by the time I got word.
Dang!
They only made a couple of hundred of them. Only about 10 are known to still exist.
My story: My long time gun running pal John was an undertaker and coroner. Everyone in the county knew him well. So one old guy up and died. Of course John handled the arrangements for the widow. Afterwards, she asked him if he'd help her with selling off some of his stuff, including all the old guns up in the attic. He was an easy going guy and this was right up his alley. So it was summer and the old folks didn't even have any AC. The attic was a furnace, and John wasn't in all that good shape. He'd had heart surgery before and was feeling the heat. So he called his deputy coroner who also happened to be his brother and someone he could trust.
They went upstairs and then to the attic. They figured the best way was just for John to hand down the guns one at a time. When they got downstairs they did the inspection. It seems the old man's father had been a junk dealer during the depression. That old guy had pulled a handcart around, buying up junk to sell for scrap. But he never broke down the guns. He'd only offer a dime or so for them because he'd have to burn the wood off to get the metal. So down came a couple of hundred old guns. To the old woman (and his brother) they all looked like junk. But John was sorting. 3 piles. One were really junk and held no value at all. The next and largest pile were also junk, but were going to his favorite gun shop for parts. Old screws, bands, and even stocks are valuable. And the third pile held one gun. A malleable iron Henry. One of the 10 known.
I came onto the play as we were setting up in Lexington. We had a system. He'd pull up in his hearse (a ferd Expedition) and we'd unload onto the cart. Then he'd park the car and I'd push the cart inside to our tables. Worked really well, except this time. He said he had another rifle in the back seat he had to hand carry in. Whatever, I had a cart to push.
But his wife insisted on staying with the cart at the tables and wanted me to go help John. I was confused because he was a bit wimpy at times, but more than capable of carrying a darn gun. When I saw him he had it all wrapped up in a blanket, and had it across his arms. So I held the door for him. He was being overly careful. So word went out in front of us. When we got to the table, our greeting committee was arriving, too.
They were oohing and ahing like it was something other than a rusty old junker. It looked for all the world like it had spent the prior 140 years in a rain barrel, full of water. One of the guys made a mad dash back to their tables for a set of screwdrivers. I think it was number 141. They pulled the rear action screw to confirm it was stamped with the same number! Even the screws were numbered! So the gun went with the other guys. And eventually to the Shot Show in January. Then they brought back the cash. Not a check, not a money order, cash money.
And they stopped at John's on the way back. And handed him the bag of money. They counted it, and it was $33,000 cash in hundred dollar bills. And the bag was a McDonalds bag that they'd gotten their Egg McMuffins in one day.
The old lady had never even see a $100 bill before, but after the 15% sales commission, she had $28,500 in them! And she had no idea what to do with it. So John helped her with that part, too. He drove her to her bank and they deposited about $9,000 in her checking account. Then to his one bank for a similar deposit, then to another bank he dealt with for still another. Then of course he wrote her checks to cover the amount. A complex deal if there ever was one. But to me it was still a rusty old gun.