Jim Bisognani: Christmas in July

Well, my fellow coindexters, as this edition posts, we are only two days away from celebrating the 250th anniversary of our country's birth. While there has been an enormous amount of press and otherwise spirited anticipation for this milestone anniversary, yours truly is in slight disbelief. Not because of the Semiquincentennial, but that it was 50 years ago that I was all consumed and gung-ho about our 200th anniversary: the Bicentennial! Wow, those 50 years flashed by almost unmercifully fast. My fellow coindexters of a certain age are most likely nodding along as they take a hearty swig of prune juice to chase down their raisin bran.

Truthfully, it seems like only recently that I was excitedly getting first-day covers for the Battle of Lexington, Concord in 1975 and was on proverbial pins and needles waiting for the arrival of the new Bicentennial-themed quarter, half dollar, and dollar coins. Each featured re-designed reverses to be produced for the Bicentennial year of 1976.

It was only 50 years ago, but what a difference there's been in the world of numismatics, and the world at large! Prior to being a coin geek, the time surrounding the Fourth of July celebration usually included a picnic with my family. Mom would prepare her luscious fried chicken and apple pie. We would all pile into the family car and try to get to Hilton Park early so we could claim one of the few picnic tables that were available to the public. The sweet, cool breezes off Great Bay played in memorable harmony with the aromas of that fried chicken and apple pie.

After enjoying the picnic, a game of catch and running around with my brothers seemed to go on for hours. Then, as dusk approached, we would file back into the car and Dad would drive us downtown, where all eyes would be busy scoping out a prime parking spot near Leary Field so we could all enjoy the fireworks display.

Christmas on the Fourth of July?

Yet, it was the Fourth of July in 1966 — 60 years ago — which was most memorable, numismatically speaking.

Already enjoying summer vacation and prepping for the great Fourth of July holiday was hot on the mind, and numismatics was also beginning to take hold. Later that month, a search for the famous 1955 double-die Lincoln would cement my fate as a numismatist. However, an event which was dumbfounding to this 9-year-old would play into my hands — literally.

There was an advertisement in the local paper — The Portsmouth Herald — that a certain business on Market Square in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, would be "throwing hundreds of dollars in cash out the door to celebrate the Fourth of July." The ad went on to say, "Be there at 9 a.m." I recall the ad had a picture of a door opening, with "whooshing" action designs showing a flurry of currency being blown out the door!

Well, can you imagine? This was every youngster's dream! Cash thrown out the door — let's go! What could go wrong?

After digesting this revelation, my brothers and I were already contemplating what we would get with our literal windfall. My twin brothers were each keen on getting a transistor radio. I, of course, was thinking about a personal transistor radio, too... But the possibility that I could get some great coins was even more exciting. The trick was somehow getting some of that cash, as there was bound to be fierce competition.

Let me describe the scene as best as I can remember. The Fourth of July finally rolled around, and it was about 8 a.m. that Monday morning when Mom summoned us to get in the car. I was in the front seat with Mom, and my brothers, Frank and John, were in the back. Excited chatter ensued until we reached our destination. When we arrived, a small crowd had already started milling about in front of the business storefront. Luckily, Mom was able to get a parking spot right across the street from the business.

Initially, my heart was pounding in anticipation and excitement. But around 8:30 a.m., a growing and significant mob had already clustered near the main entrance, and I started to panic. Towering in front of the main entrance were several high school-age kids, each looking like linebackers, strategically positioned in front of the door. I gulped and said to myself, "How in the world am I going to get past that huge gantlet?"

My mom, witnessing this mass of humanity, looked at me and said, "I don't want you to get hurt. It's not worth it." I heard her words, but somehow, the prospect of getting cash in the palm of my hands was more exciting than the danger of bodily injury.

My older twin brothers had made their way closer to the middle of the crowd, which by then was around a hundred people.

An eager crowd at 9 a.m.

Now, maybe it was planned all along — or perhaps the store employee could sense sustaining injuries themselves. But the first-floor doors didn't open. It turns out that this business occupied several floors. Just as the old North Church clock in the square chimed 9 a.m., the windows on the third floor opened. I recall looking up and seeing people in front of the windows — store employees, no doubt — looking down into the crowd.

Then, it hit me: the money wasn't going to be thrown out the door, it was going to be dropped out the window! This definitely changed the dynamics of the competition. I immediately ran back to the car, got into the trunk, and pulled out my trusty fishing net. I extended the shaft to its full length, then hustled back.

All eyes gazed upward, and I recall the highly anticipated event beginning with one of the employees dropping a single dollar bill out the window. It was fluttering down, changing course many times as the crowd jockeyed for positions and flailed, attempting to catch it. The process continued for a few minutes, until one of the employees dropped a small wad of cash which, as it fell, looked like a ticker tape welcome for a conquering hero.

Well, the chaos that followed was spectacular to watch. It was like a feeding frenzy. Eventually, the employees started dropping little batches of money. The fluttering of all these pieces of currency had the crowd going every which way, trying to find out where the wind current would take their would-be bounty. I recall several kids running down the street as a few rogue pieces of currency flew by. Luckily, armed with my trusty net, I was able to snag several dollar bills and even captured a few $5 notes. It was Christmas in July!

My brothers were able to get about $10 combined between them before my mother said, "Let's get out of here before anyone gets hurt. I mean, really, who thought of this brainchild?"

A promotion where you're throwing money out the window on a summer's day... It was amazing. It could have been tragic, but it wasn't. Yet, it's still one that I don't think will ever be duplicated.

All told, I was able to secure $16 on that day, and I bought my first transistor radio. It was this GE "Shirtpocket" portable six transistor radio, which I enjoyed listening to in bed — especially the Boston Red Sox away games on the West Coast until the wee hours in the early morning!

Despite all of this, this absolutely lovely 1843 Seated Liberty Half Dollar that I purchased with my Fourth of July windfall 60 years ago this week is still my best memory. I bought it from a local downtown Portsmouth coin shop for the princely sum of $7. It is a lightly circulated originally toned masterpiece!

My fellow coindexters, enjoy the holiday. Enjoy all the new issues that the US Mint is putting out in commemoration of the 250th anniversary — our Semiquincentennial — and good luck hunting down that July Fourth Privy quarter for the NGC bounty! And, by all means...

Until next time, be safe, and happy collecting!

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