Last Spring, my uncle came to me with a question: “Hey, are those old insulators worth anything?” To which I responded to the affirmative. He then proceeded to tell me that in the 1960s, he was responsible for taking down all the radial wave street lamps in nearby Mount Holly Springs, PA. Rather than throw them in the dumpster like most would, my uncle brought them home and piled them in his back woods for target practice.

Now, fast forward to 2014. I find myself traipsing through his backyard, hauling these things out in a wheelbarrow and loading them into the back of my Subaru. These mammoth ceramic lamp heads are not your typical insulators. In fact, these lamp heads aren’t even classified as insulators at all. They are just street lamp heads.

Uncle Bob was surprised that I would be interested in all these rusted relics, but I knew that somewhere a collector was looking for these parts and pieces to complete his/her restoration project. The ceramic heads sell for about $40 a piece and ship for about the same. They weigh 12lbs a piece, so you can imagine all the work that goes into putting them into the hands of a collectors–but it is always worth it in the end.

A lot of you probably remember seeing these street lamps when you were  young and can probably still recall the sound of them rattling on a windy day when the bearings started to loosen. When you factor in that nostalgia factor, a complete radial wave street lamp sells for $600-$800. I just knew that somewhere a collector was searching for these parts and I planned to deliver.

After tossing aside all the parts that my uncle had used for target practice, I ended up with a haul of about ten or twelve. I took the rest home to harvest the copper insides–which had long since turned green with oxidation.

Once my trunk was full of nearly four-hundred pounds of street lamp parts, my uncle says to me: “You interested in old bottles?” To which I responded in the affirmative once again.

He led me to a giant oak tree where embossed medicine bottles were visible poking out of the dirt. I started digging and although I was disappointed to find that everything I pulled from that spot was broken–it was still thrilling. I found pieces of flowed blue pottery, chunks of salt glazed crocks with blue detailing, medicine bottles embossed with a local doctor from long ago, even fragments of a china doll. I literally dug to the bottom of the pit before I surrendered.

Well that wasn’t the end of my visit. My uncle came to me again and asks: “You interested in an antique washing machine?” To which I responded in the affirmative… once more. He took me to another site on his property and told me that this particular site had been the local dump. I stood staring at these giant mounds of junk bottles and remnants the 1960s.

I can not tell you how long I dug through the junk, tossing aside ketchup bottles and vintage soda cans and hoping that I would eventually reach the older glass on the bottom. Now, anyone who has dug through an old dump knows that you learn a lot about a person. I’ll tell you. Whoever dumped their trash here must have drank a lot of Pepsi. I had hoped to come across some old double-dots… but all good things must come to an end.

After a long day of salvaging history, I was called home to real life and a few weeks later diagnosed with Lymes–which put me out of commission for the rest of the year.

This year, I reached out to my other uncle in Fabius, NY outside of Syracuse. He owns a former dairy farm and a section of nearby Mount Fabius. He tells me that there is an auto graveyard from 1940 and the remnants of some old homesteads–which appeared on maps in 1860s. I’m hoping to meet up with a fellow dump digger and hit it hard this Spring.

I hope you plan to join me on my bottle dig this summer in Fabius and until ten, please subscribe below for updates.