Deachman: Selling a lifetime of possessions — even for charity — proves a challenge

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In The Secret of the Old Clock, the first Nancy Drew book, our young heroine learns that the clue to recently deceased Josiah Crowley’s will can be found in an old family clock, the discovery of which eventually directs Crowley’s estate away from the undeserving presumptive heirs and instead to worthier relatives.

It’s one of the most popular English-language children’s books, its 2.2 million hardcover sales ranking it 53rd in a 2001 Publisher’s Weekly list.

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One of those copies — a first edition of the 1959 rewrite of the 1930 classic — sits in the library in Bronwen Kathy Williams’s L’Orignal home. The book bears the inscription: “Dec. 25, 1963. Aunt Marion and Uncle Ralph.” A few dozen other Nancy Drew mysteries in her collection have similar inscriptions, marking the Christmases, birthdays and other occasions of Williams’s youth.

Williams has her fingers crossed that the books might be worth something to a collector, as she goes about the task of selling them, and most of her other possessions.

For she’s now 72, and the secret of the old clock isn’t really a secret anymore, as its hands inch closer to when those belongings will be considered her estate. She’s increasingly confronted by her mortality: knee replacements in 2017 and 2018 were followed by a mastectomy in 2018, a hysterectomy in 2020, and cataract removals in 2023 and ’24. A year and a half ago, she was diagnosed with cancer in her left lung.

Additionally, she has a pair of ulcers and problems with her liver, kidneys and pancreas. The death last month of a friend has added to her sense of urgency.

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She wants to sell her things while she still can, so when her time is up she can leave the largest possible bequest to the Hawkesbury General Hospital Foundation.

And what a collection it is. Many of the 3,000 books in her library offer glimpses into the pathways and nooks of her life: her fascination, for example, with Marilyn Monroe, or the 1960s Spider-Man and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. comic books. There are books on dissection and taxidermy, and volumes about transportation — not surprising given that Williams, a former Spar Aerospace employee, was a licensed pilot who at various times drove a 1963 convertible Corvette Stingray and a Honda Goldwing motorcycle, and was also licensed to drive 18-wheelers. There are thrillers, books on leather making, jewelry, horses (she once owned one), science, nature, languages, espionage and much more.

And that’s just the books. Her home is chock-a-block with the possessions of a lifetime: never-worn shoes and clothes, purses, artwork, antiques, old toys, tools, knickknacks, the precious metals, necklaces, rings and bracelets from her jewelry-making days, and about 20 leather hides from the leather-carving phase.

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(Conceding that she might be a “part” hoarder, Williams recognizes, too, that hers could be considered a cautionary tale about acquiring too much stuff in the first place, but that line was crossed long ago.)

Her estate executor, she notes, is an employee at a nearby bank, and Williams, who is estranged from her family and has no close friends in the area, worries that the woman won’t have the time or energy to dispose of her belongings as meticulously and thoroughly as Williams would like. “I don’t want everything to just be thrown in a dumpster or sold in a garage sale for 50 cents,” she says.

Heather Austin-Skaret, co-managing partner at Mann Lawyers, says that estate executors have a fiduciary obligation to maximize the value of an estate for the benefit of the beneficiaries. “If you don’t think they’ll do a good job, why are you appointing them?”

However, she adds, executors can only use their best efforts to sell possessions for what the market will bear. “You don’t want to keep an estate open for five years while you’re holding out for the best value on something.

“It’s often a problem when clients’ prized possessions aren’t as valuable as they think they are,” she adds, “like Limoges or Royal Doulton china or Waterford crystal. Unless it’s mid-century modern teak, forget it. Everything goes in cycles.”

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Williams has listed most of her library online at biblio.com, and also has long had a store on eBay and a closet on Poshmark where she sells mostly shoes, handbags, makeup and magazines, but says it’s a full-time job for her to photograph, describe and post items, never mind the time she spends simply trying to determine what something might be worth, often getting nowhere in the process.

Many of her possessions are certainly valuable, if she can reach the right buyers. She recently sold 10 1962 Spider-Man comic books to a collector in Seattle for $350 apiece. Will she have similar luck with the set of drinking glasses, now 36 years old, commemorating Mickey Mouse’s 60th birthday?

She holds hope that the fur coats she owns, including a beautiful geometric patchwork mink she bought more than 20 years ago from Holt Renfrew and never wore, might fetch a pretty penny, or at least something close to what she paid. But she recognizes that furs no longer have the cachet they once did, and, like upright pianos of old, may be difficult to get rid of.

Other items are so niche that it’s hard to determine their value. What to make, for example, of the top hat once worn by Raoul Dandurand, a Quebec Liberal appointed to the Senate in 1898? Are there descendants of his who might want it? Would a museum be interested? Or is it now simply an old theatre prop? She doesn’t know who can tell her.

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Hawkesbury General Hospital Foundation executive director Erin Tabakman says charities such as hers simply don’t have the resources to ascertain the value of people’s possessions or dispose of them.

“I’ve tried to help Bronwen and put her in touch with people that I thought might be able to help her, but we can’t do much more than that. I wish there was, because I’m so touched that she wants to leave everything that she’s worked for to the hospital. It’s so generous.”

Similarly, the philanthropic Ottawa Community Foundation, which helps people direct their estates to charities and other causes, isn’t set up to deal with people’s possessions, only the proceeds that eventually come from them.

Yet Williams’s plight isn’t unique. Karen Anne Blakely, director of community programs at Abbotsford Seniors Centre in the Glebe, says it often receives gifted items, which it typically sells at the Great Glebe Garage Sale or in the boutique or silent auction.

She, like Austin-Skaret, notes that changing trends and markets mean yesterday’s fur coats and top hats may command almost nothing today. She recalls a woman who donated an outfit to Abbotsford, insisting it be priced in the boutique for no less than $300. Not surprisingly, it hasn’t sold.

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“I understand the sentimentality of it, and I understand wanting to benefit the charities,” she says. “This woman said she’d like to get a team of people together to do that research to try to sell stuff. We don’t know if there are people interested in doing that for a charity. It’s a good idea, but we haven’t found volunteers to do that.”

Instead, Blakely recommends hiring a company that will appraise and auction off a person’s possessions, typically for a percentage of the sales.

MaxSold is one popular auction house, although its fees may deter some sellers: If MaxSold manages the entire auction, there’s a $2,000 flat fee plus a sliding commission on sales, starting at 30 per cent. If the seller manages such things as photos, cataloguing and buyers’ pickup of goods, there’s a minimum $300 fee, plus a similar sliding scale commission.

“If (Williams) wants to cash these things out and give the money to charity, that is way better than the charity trying to do that work,” says Blakely.

And perhaps better than Williams doing it herself. For while she continues to take photos and email them to haberdashers, historians and other experts in the hope that they’ll reply and tell her what they think a hat, military medal or tin toy is worth, the old clock is ticking.

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“It does seem kind of dumb to think that if I if I died next week, I spent my last years on the computer,” she admits.

What would Nancy Drew do?

“I think she would do a lot of research still and work on the computer and Google, which of course she didn’t have back in those years,” Williams says. “I’m not just going to give up, because somewhere out there there are people who can help.”

Those so inclined can reach her at willowbayfg@yahoo.ca.

bdeachman@postmedia.com

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