My family thinks I’m nuts. After all, I am only thirty. When they envision a metal detecting hobbyists, they envision some retiree in his early sixties sweeping the beach for spare change and discarded tin-foil.
Perhaps in some past life, I was a sixty-something retiree because I love metal detecting. As a matter of fact, the prospect of metal detecting was my best idea since putting my kids in daycare for two more days a week. THAT is saying something.
I’ve been called an old soul by strangers, friends, and family. What can I say? I like old stuff. My family playfully suggests that my house is more like grandma’s house than… well… grandma’s house. I guess most thirty-year-olds would take that as a hint, not just a reminder to dust the spaghetti poodle collection and rotate the carnival glass display.
I couldn’t tell you when my passion for old stuff started–I’ve always just suspected that the passion was embedded within my soul–but I can tell you when I decided to embrace it. As a teenager living in Rhode Island, I used to scour the dumps behind our house for old bottles and crocks. I would haul them all back home and stack them in the windows of our dilapidated shed–it was no china hutch but it did the trick.
In my early twenties, I rediscovered my love for relics and started picking–another hobby of mine. I would–and still do–frequent yard sales and thrift stores for something well-seasoned and ridiculously under-priced. I will admit that I have a tendency to collect more than I resell–the curse of being an old soul.
Just last year, after discovering that my uncle lived beside an old dump, I reverted back to dump digging. I dug a few radial street lamps from the 1920s before having a chance encounter with a deer tick and ending my digging season with Lymes. It took a few doses of antibiotics to kick it, but I’m doing better these days.
All that being said, I have always been a treasure hunter and I suppose that metal detecting was the next logical step.
In November of 2014, I purchased my first metal detector–a Garrett ACE 250. I’m only four years into the hobby, but I’ve made some pretty wicked discoveries, met some incredible people, and even embraced that affinity that I carry for yesterday–for pursuing tangible history and not just staring at boring dribbles in a history book.
This hobby has launched me on a monumental adventure and I intend to follow that path wherever it may lead. I hope that when you read my blog or watch my videos, you can join that adventure.
Andrew has been metal detecting for over thirteen years. You won’t find him playing my button is bigger than your button at any raging metal detecting parties, but he has quite the collection of dug relics and coins cluttering his shelves. (And the closet, and under his bed, and on the kitchen counters… and everywhere else.)
In addition to being an avid metal detecting hobbyist, Andrew is a numismatist. (It took Jocelyn a couple weeks to not only learn how to say this word, but also spell it.) In Jocelyn terms–and regular terms–a numismatist is someone who specializes in coins and currency. Andrew has been numismatizing* since 1992. In 2014, he launched his own coin business called Oldetyme Numismatics. He also manages a coin shop in New Jersey outside Trenton called Colonial Valley Coins.
Besides his coin expertise and charming sense of humor, Andrew also brings to the team his business savvy and organizational skills. Odds are, if you’ve sent us an email, Andrew was probably the one to respond. (So please stop confessing your love via email. It’s getting really awkward.) He not only processes all incoming orders, but also corresponds with customers and viewers when Jocelyn is too busy refereeing stick-sword battles between her two children.
And even though Andrew has the occasional guest appearance on Relic Recoverist, he does have his own YouTube Channel. You can check it out here.
*Jocelyn has taken the liberty to invent words in the case of this write-up. If anyone takes issue, they can send an email to info@relicrecoverist.com where Andrew will file your complaint with the confessions of love. Thank-you.