Being a collector you may have a list of "firsts". Such as, your first insulator (probably a Hemingray 42); your first show ("Look at all the colors!"); your first bargain ("Look what I got for 50 cents!"), etc. My favorite first is finding my first threadless.

I had been trying to get to the Rochester bottle show in April of 1985, but the freights, the hitch hiking and the gods had been indifferent. At dusk the night before the show found me still 100 miles away and I was faced with the cold reality that this was one show I wasn't going to make. With everything needed for survival (if not absolute comfort) in the pack on my back, along with a bit of money and plenty of time, I decided to make the best of the situation. I started heading for a place where I knew a four crossarm communication line was being dismantled and held the promise of good picking.

So there I was, walking down the shoulder of the road in the middle of "nowhere". It's near sundown but no cooler. A determined cloud of hungry blackflies shows up, dying for dinner. Once you live through blackflies, you'll welcome mosquitoes as old friends. I'm scanning the peaceful rolling Ontario countryside for a place to set up camp. I'll have to get water somewhere first. The store in the last town was closed so there'll be slim pickings for breakfast. Despite my weariness I'm not relishing getting into my sleeping bag. I've got 4 days sweat and road dust on me and feel pretty gritty. There's no clean socks to greet my feet tomorrow either. With these grim prospects before me, I try to be philosophical. "It's always darkest before dawn", "Laugh in the face of adversity and you can always...." Sometimes it is hard to be profound and philosophical.

Ever optimistic, I turn with arm outstretched at the sound of the next vehicle. A pickup pulls over. The driver was an ex-hitch hiker himself and happy to return past favors. I told him where I was going. He asked if I knew anyone there, which I didn't. He eyed me suspiciously. "What are you going there for? I live near there and there's nothing there!" So I had to explain my purpose -- hunting insulators.

You never know how people are going to react to this admission. Sometimes they think they are dealing with someone with a damaged mind and are afraid that their next move may provoke a dangerous outburst. But Gene knew a thing or two about collecting. Being a construction worker he related how on some sites a bulldozer would hit a pocket of artifacts and all the workers would dive in the hole and scrabble for what was to be had like a bunch of little kids. He had a few bottles himself. He also told me there was an abandoned railroad bed across his property. He said, "Look, by the time we get to where you're going it will be dark. My wife has dinner waiting at home. You're more than welcome to stay at our place for a couple of days if you want. You can get cleaned up, do your laundry and check out the old railroad." Well? What else could I do? 

The next day, spirits measurably improved, rested and refreshed I was out beside an old railroad bed. I didn't know a thing about this line. First thing to do is find out which side the poles were on, if it had poles at all. Eventually found a rotten crossarm, so at least it had telegraph. Later, found a piece of a Dominion-42. Then I found a piece of old aqua glass. "Looks like a piece from a threadless," I kidded myself. It might have been part of the dome to a threadless, even had a bit of the pinhole. But in 9 years of collecting, I had found lots of pieces of glass that had looked like "pieces of threadless". But they had never been pieces of threadless. No matter how much I wanted them to be. They were always pieces of common insulators, or bottles, or something else. But I wasn't going to give this piece a toss until I'd examined it better later. I started to find pole bases in a wooded area, a nice place. The I saw some glass under some leaves and sprang on it. Old aqua glass, 3 pieces. One of them was a complete base, almost mint, with M.T.Co. embossed on it. No mistake about it, an honest piece of a threadless. WOW!

I pushed on. I found a couple more pieces in the next few minutes -- aqua dome and skirt pieces. And then I found a large chunk of blackglass threadless. This was too much. I had never even dreamt of finding stuff like this. Never wasted time fantasizing about it. And now that it was happening, I was in a dreamlike daze. Other people found threadless, not me. I didn't even know the CD's of these (742 and 740). I floated over the ground picking up an aqua piece here, and a black glass piece there. Time had no meaning.

Then I came to a farmer's pile of field stone rock. There was glass in it. Tossing rocks aside, I unearthed a hammered 145 "B" beehive. Then an equally bashed Dominion-42. A few more rocks away and there is a chunk of a CD 143 Dwight. Not much left of the pile and no more glass to be seen. But, at my feet, a piece of glass protrudes from the undisturbed black soil. A skirt piece firm in the ground. With a stick I scrape some earth away. I grab the glass and tug and gradually a CD 742 comes to light. It appears black. After rubbing the dirt off, it seems to be a dark forest green. Time stands still. I'll relive this moment again and again. It still gives me a rush. How long had this insulator lain here -- 60, 80 years?

Securing my find, I scout until darkness creeps up. There will be no more glass today. A large comical farm dog joins me and accompanies me back to my friend's place. The day is over but a new phase of my collecting has begun. I'm after the big game now. I would later learn that this line had been declared "worked" by three generations of collectors. However, even I could find threadless. You can too!