BeachHead

She said: We were riding our bikes back from the Potholder this morning, and screeched to a halt on the sidewalk at the same time -- we'd both seen the same thing: a shiny steel 50's tanker desk, with original chair, and a cardboard "FREE" sign propped up on top of the desk.  We got off our bikes and circled thoughtfully -- what an opportunity!  We love the style, but had never thought to acquire one because these vintage desks are worth a couple hundred bucks if un-rehabbed or in fair condition, and more than that if spruced up or in perfect condition.  This one was a little dinged, but recently stripped so the steel shone through, and perfect action on the drawers.  Only problem, we were on our bikes.  And no way would it fit in our car. 

So we went back home and borrowed our friend Eric's truck, and returned (half expecting it to be gone).  Nope - still there.  Someone else clearly had been there since we left, and had hidden the chair and one of the drawers behind the porch, probably to stake a claim while they went to go get THEIR friend's truck.  Too bad -- we were there first. 

We set about jigsawing the desk into the back of the truck when the owner came out of the house and introduced himself.  He was catching a flight to Hawaii tonight, he said, and just couldn't deal with moving these big heavy things.  So he just hoped they'd go to someone who would appreciate them.  We assured him we were thrilled.  Actually, he said, I have a matching side chair and another weird cabinet thing -- they were in the back -- he'd just set them next to the trash.  We went back to inspect, and sure enough -- a matching side chair, and two unusual things I'd never even known existed:

The first was a small steel stand with lots and lots of clips.  The guy said he didn't know what it was for, but upon closer inspection (the wiping of dust) it was clearly labeled as a dentist X-Ray film development rack, manufactured by the Eastman Kodak Company of Rochester NY.  Sweet!

The second was a scratched-up yellow cabinet on wobbly improvised casters resembling a large computer tower.  Lifting up and sliding back the front panel revealed about 20 shallow, narrow and very long drawers holding unusually shaped plastic folders, laid flat and overlapping each other.  Anything in the folders is viewable, and you can flip through them easily.  What in the world was this for?  Turns out it belonged to the Department of the Interior in the 1950s, and it still contained a few original records of contracts, receipts and work orders for various parks and public works.  One drawer is even labeled "Lake Mead."  Pretty cool.

Needless to say, we crammed all of the above into the truck and it's all now in our loft.  Completely free -- he wouldn't even let us buy him a six pack of beer!  Don't quite know where we're going to PUT them yet, but we'll figure it out.

And here's the desk: