Never Mace a Skunk

Boy oh boy, this is just what the world needs: another book. At the time of this writing (2001), approximately 75% of the world’s population has published at least one, or so it seems. As I have been somewhat literate for several years now, I felt it was time to put that good ol’ public education to work and join the majority by writing one as well. But on what subject? As I eat-breathe-sleep-talk Civil War artifacts and spend much of my time in the woods pursuing the same, the subject matter was pretty much determined from that first day back in ’73 when I found my first bullet. Thus is destiny . . .

Then came the choice of what type of relic book to write. As this was destiny, I felt drawn to where the real need was in the relic-hunting world. For instance, there are countless good books (some listed elsewhere in this manuscript) on buttons, shells, bullets, buckles, bottles, bayonets, canteens, miscellaneous excavated relics, metal detecting, and relic hunting; even that doesn’t cover all the categories in print. Also, the books are becoming more and more specialized: a friend even considered doing one on "fencing bayonets" (those with tips dulled and padded for practice drill), but then decided that would really be pointless.

(Perhaps you’re thinking that’s the worst pun you’ve ever heard . . . ah, a first time reader of my works, huh?)

When a work colleague recently caught a ride home with me, I felt compelled to explain to him why there were old shotgun shell hulls in the ashtray, shrapnel in the floorboard, and how he got pricked with a hundred-year old square nail upon sitting down (I only hope he’s had his shots). After a lengthy explanation on my part, followed by a vacant stare on his, that destiny became clear: the world needs a book to explain to it this unique past time, and those rather unique individuals who pursue it with a passion. Unique? That’s rather mild. See, some of us just ain’t right . . . but in a good sort of way, you understand.

So here it is, a book about us, the relic hunters. This book is intended to let the relic hunter take a humorous look at himself, and to introduce the newcomer to a culture unto itself. It’s entertaining because we’re entertaining . . . and we’re entertaining because it takes a very unique person to become as historically compulsive as some of us have become. Besides, there are only two types of people in the world: the normal and the special. I, for one, feel very special when I relic hunt . . .

This book is also somewhat chock- full (at least partially) of helpful information, and has something useful for anyone from a hard core relic hunter to a casual acquaintance trying to better understand a friend who "hunts". Need a cure for poison ivy? It’s here. Need tips on getting started relic hunting? Also here. Need tips on how to find a Civil War camp? Yep, right here. Need evidence in that silly civil suit pending against me? Sorry, that information was cut right before publication. But there’s lots of other useful stuff here, and it’s sandwiched between some of the oddest observations and ramblings you’ll ever encounter: my own, with some input from folks just like me.

Maybe you just want to read a good story. There is also a few of those in here, as the floor was opened to any and all who wanted to contribute their adventures in digging,

in addition to my own "happenings." This also gives a good cross section of the relic

hunting population at large and here’s where it gets scary: many of them are just like me. Ain’t none of us right?

As I sit here and look back on the last three years (creating this book), I think back on many things. I think back on those who helped me by contributing stories and advice, and the friendships that grew because of it. I think back to the patience shown by my wife as I sat up late yet another night to touch up a story. Mostly, though, I think back to the many research hours and hunting days which were postponed in order to work on this book, while my less literately creative friends were digging to their hearts content, and I ponder the biggest question of all concerning my decision to undertake writing this book:

"What was I thinking?"

Too late now . . . I hope you enjoy it.