Bidding Is Only Half the Fun

by Stephen Leon Alligood

Some people go to an auction for a bargain; others go for a good time. Mary Henson of Vinita, Okla., goes for both.

“I like it if things are cheap. I’ve practically furnished my home with things bought from auctions,’’ says the retired elementary schoolteacher, who, for most of the last decade, has attended at least two auctions each week. “And every time I go, it’s like old home week because there are so many friends there.”

Henson, 74, isn’t alone in her affection for auctions. Each week, the auctioneer’s chant attracts thousands of bidders in towns across the country as estates are liquidated, farm equipment sold, and one man’s junk becomes another’s treasure.

The National Auctioneers Association’s 6,000-plus members are busier than ever, with auctions now occurring year-round, instead of the traditional peak season during the warm weather months.

“It used to be that summer was the big time for auctions. You’d hold the auction outside and it was as much a social event as it was a sale,’’ says J.B. Robison Jr. He and his father, J.B. Sr., are partners in an auction house that serves a portion of Oklahoma and Missouri.

And what’s being sold has changed, too.

“The collectible market is absolutely nutty at the moment. It’s keeping us very busy,” says Vincent Babler of Borup, Minn., (pop. 91) whose auction house near the North Dakota border is a family business. He and a son, Terry, are the owners.

“You just never know what you’re going to be selling or how much they will sell for. We recently auctioned cupolas (louvered ventilators) off of barns for $300 apiece and a set of crockery for $550, and the old toys, they do especially well,’’ he says.

Surprisingly, eBay and other on-line auctions have increased his business, says Robison, explaining that people come to his sales looking for things they can re-sell over the Internet. Meanwhile, the Internet has become a valuable tool to even the smallest of auction houses because it allows web surfers to see brochures for upcoming sales.

“Most of our customers are local, but we are beginning to see more and more people coming in for sales from other states around us,’’ says Babler, whose firm also maintains a web presence.

Babler’s career as an auctioneer is actually his second. After retiring from a civil service position with the North Dakota Air National Guard in the early 1990s, he organized his company in 1994 and hasn’t been still for very long ever since.

The same can be said of the Robison father-son duo, both of Vinita (pop. 6,472).

“We started this back in 1982, and I’ve been with him from the beginning,’’ says Robison Jr., who was just 10 when he began working in the business and was 15 when he started doing auctions on his own, following his successful completion of auctioneer’s school.

“People do the math in their heads when they hear how long I’ve been in the business and can’t believe it, but I was working pretty much all the time at the auctions. It’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do. I once gave it up for a few months, but I just couldn’t do it,’’ Robison Jr. says. “It’s just too much a part of me.”

A good value

A good auctioneer becomes almost a part of the family, especially when an estate of a loved one is sold or family property put up for auction, Babler says.

“You walk through their closets and their chest of drawers, helping them sort things out and prepare for the sale. You get into every part of their lives. You have to take the job seriously because they take the auction seriously,’’ he says.

Robison Jr. agrees: “Many of our sales are what we call the ‘Aunt Maude’ sale, where a loved one has died and the family is selling her property. You get to become a part of that family’s life as they go through this chapter in their lives. If you’re a professional, they are going to remember you for all the right reasons.”

Although auctions have become increasingly popular, they often are subject to myths and inaccuracies, Robison Jr. says.

First, if an auction spectator scratches their nose during the bidding, it’s not going to be misinterpreted as an offer to buy. That’s why auctioneers have people who are called “ring men.” They stand near the crowd to make sure a nod is a nod and a wink is a wink.

“The best way is to make eye contact. The eyes reveal everything. If they are serious about buying, then it’s going to be told in their eyes,’’ Robison Jr. says.

“I always try to meet everyone at the auction. At most of ours we’re going to have a lot of regulars, but if there’s someone new, who’s never been to an auction, then I want to meet them to see if I can help them understand how it works.”

Babler encourages his auction-goers to ask questions.

“I tell them not to be afraid. If I feel that people are not picking up on the chant because it’s too fast, then I slow it down. I want everyone, from the guy who’s there every sale to the little old lady who’s never been to one before, to know how much money I’m asking,’’ he says.

Both auctioneers enjoy introducing newcomers to the world of auctions.

“People can get a good value on items. It might not be a steal, but they’ll save money. Auctions are really great for people on fixed incomes,” Robison Jr. says.

Most auctions offer a variety of household goods, jewelry, art, collectibles, and, sometimes, “mystery boxes” containing sundry items. For instance: topless Tupperware bowls, nonmatching kitchen drawer knobs, and a spool of wire. Whether the box contains anything useful is up to the new owner.

In his career, Robison Jr. has auctioned off every kind of item, from the extravagant to the practical to the downright strange. At a charity event several years ago he auctioned a decorated Christmas tree for $6,000. He once sold a retired teacher’s paddle for $510 to a man whose name was on the paddle, apparently for bad behavior as a student. As an adult he grew up to become the school superintendent.

At a moving auction, he sold the flowers in the flower bed. The buyers had to dig them up. He’s also auctioned a piece of heavy machinery for about $250,000.

While Henson rarely spends more than a few hundred dollars for an auction piece, she never enters the auction without first arriving early to look over the items for sale and establishing a price she would be willing to pay.

“And I don’t go over that price I’ve set in my head. That’s what you have to do if you want to have fun at an auction,’’ the veteran bidder says.

Actually, Henson has fun just listening to the tumbling banter of the auctioneer: “Who’ll-give-me-fifty-who’ll-give-me-fifty-dollars?”

She notes: “It’s like music.’’

Stephen Leon Alligood writes from his home in Middle Tennessee where he always bids too low.

first appeared: 10/28/2001