Gorgets and Pendants
In 1978, when I was much younger, I got word that a silver trophy would be awarded at Chillicothe, Ohio, to the collector who brought the finest anchor pendant to the show. Believing that I had the finest anchor pendants in the world, I drove through the snow to a motel near Chillicothe on the Saturday night before the show, carrying the seven anchor pendants shown in the illustrations.
They were the finest out of the Ed Payne and Dr. Bunch collections so I was pretty confident and felt that I had never slept in a better bed. None of my dreams foretold the tragedy the next day would bring. -My beautiful anchor pendants lay in the case in front of the three judges. When I submitted them for the contest they assured me there could be none submitted for their scrutiny that could equal my poorest.
I was decked out in my finest sport coat and wore a necktie so I'd look good when my picture undoubtedly would be taken when I would be presented the beautiful trophy shown in the photograph (with the word pendant misspelled on it). No matter the mispelling - no one would notice as the da77ling beauty of the trophy caught the eyes of its admirers.
My hearty breakfast of bacon, sausage and eggs was well accepted by my digestive process and I drove to the motel where the great show was beginning to set up.
I had brought along a piece of thick red velvet on which I laid out my prize anchor pendants and the three judges voiced their immediate approval of their admission in the contest as anchor pendants.
After I had laid my anchors out for judgment and display, Earl Mumaw put up for judgment the arrow pendant shown in the picture below. The judges immediately rejected it as not being an anchor pendant. Mr. Mumaw did not accept that immediate rejection and began to explain to the judges that it was "in the class" of anchors.
As other collectors were entering their "anchors" in the contest and laying them out for judging, it was noticeable that Mr. Mumaw was still arguing with the judges about the admissibility of his arrow pendant in the contest. I could hear him contending vociferously - "It's in the class." Finally, when he said "It belongs to my little boy, Garry," the judges relented and agreed to admit it in the contest and Mr. Mumaw laid it out on blue velvet in the most prominent place on the display table, pushing several of my anchors to one side.
I was amused but thought "Oh well, it will please the child."
But the day was yet young! Mr. Mumaw had just won the right to have the arrow pendant in the contest. Immediately he started a vigorous campaign to win the beautiful trophy. Fat chance, I thought, as I rearranged my seven anchors which Mr. Mumaw had pushed aside. I went on over to my table on which I had laid out some relics for sale and trade.