This post was originally published on this site
During West Seattle’s massive annual garage sale—a single-day spectacular in early May, when more than 500 yards, front paths, and driveways open for business en masse—the neighborhood looks oddly vulnerable. Like all its homes have spilled their guts onto their front yards. Or like they’re wearing their hearts on their sleeves.
West Seattle isn’t the only neighborhood with this kind of ad hoc vintage market. Capitol Hill hosts a community-wide garage sale, concentrated in Cal Anderson Park, every summer; plenty of others, from Mount Baker to Maple Leaf, follow suit. But West Seattle’s is uniquely massive, sprawling more than six miles from the northernmost tip of Alki Beach to the border of Burien.
“Come on, guys!” Tallulah McAllister—who has lived in West Seattle for all 15 of her years—urges passersby not to pass up a less-visible alleyway sale. It’s one of about two dozen sales featuring a lemonade stand.
It’s a special occasion for the nostalgic among us: That outgrown tee or outdated video game console may no longer serve you, but you sure hope it goes to a loving home. The relationship between garage sale sellers and garage sale shoppers, who often feel equally hopeful about the day’s possibilities, breeds camaraderie—from bonding over a cool-looking jacket to passing on a passion to the next generation.
Scaled up and spread across a neighborhood so close-knit it still calls itself an island, it’s not unusual to witness a little secondhand magic at the West Seattle event.
In the Cards
Mel Elpusan handed out packs of Pokémon cards as party favors at his son Ethan’s fifth birthday. Ethan, now 15, still remembers feeling jealous when a fellow preschooler landed a Rainbow Charizard, and he’s been hooked ever since. The father-son duo created and sold 300 mystery packs for the West Seattle Garage Sale this year: “It’s fun watching the kids open and be happy with the hits they get,” Mel says.
Everyone’s childhood favorites become “vintage” eventually. Gretchen Wilkerson collected Pokémon cards as a kid and recently returned to the hobby with her partner. Combing through the Elpusans’ card binders “brings back the nostalgic feeling of it,” Wilkerson says.
Brothers Beau and Kirk frequent garage sales with their mom, Stephanie Benson. Benson says that Beau enjoys memorizing the constellation of traits associated with each Pokémon—which region they hail from, which “type” they fall into. “I just do it for the fun of being together,” Benson says.
One Woman’s Treasure
The average garage sale acts as a purge of accidentally amassed items. But Rebecca Carlson, who runs a popular Etsy shop called Rebecca’s Relics, estimates she bought 90 percent of her curated display of vintage goods with the explicit goal of selling them. “I’ve always been a garage sale–goer my whole life,” Carlson says. True enthusiasts often wind up selling their collections—just so they can keep searching.
“I’ve got a tetanus shot already,” one shopper, surrounded by rusted antiques, reassures a friend.
Buy What You Like
While some vendors open the doors to their homes and hawk whatever falls out‚ others hyper-specialize—like the anonymous man in the P-I apron, who primarily collects toys made between 1920 and 1935. However, he is also responsible for the pilgrim cardboard cutouts, which stood at an Auburn grocery store back in the 1950s. His advice? “Buy what you like.”
Brant Goode, pictured alongside the pilgrims, took that advice. Until his Zelle app cut him off from completing too many transactions.
Record Deals
Kenyon Hall, home of the mighty Wurlitzer theatre organ, “means a lot of different things to a lot of different people,” per operations director Murphy Janssen. It’s kind of like a School of Rock sequel, where your favorite local musicians band together to save a social club. For kids, it’s a place to learn the drums. For elders, it’s a place to reminisce. For garage sale–goers, it’s a place to nab vintage vinyl from the best of the best.
Clown Around
Preservationist John Bennett, best known for his work on iconic vintage buildings, also restores old jukeboxes and slot machines—and heartily embraces the humor in the everyday artifacts garage sales have to offer. “Once junk is in your blood, you just gotta keep buying it,” he says. Karens, Kevins, and Nasty Neighbors be damned.
Donnie Hilstad met Mike Shauhgnessy (below) and other vintage enthusiasts “standing in line at estate sales.” They have since formed into close-knit group of friends. Hilstad sells records just for fun—though he used to make a killing on eBay.
Gadget Guy
If you can’t find Mike Shaughnessy, look for the alligator hat. If you can’t see the alligator hat, just yell out “Gadget Guy.” Growing up, he frequented garage sales with his grandpa, who bought antique radios just so Shaughnessy could take them apart. Then, he made a career out of restoring radios—including one that went for $20,000. “Museum don’t need it that bad,” he jokes.
Lacey Comstock, wearing a vintage Bumbershoot tee (not for sale), fields questions from a busy sidewalk full of buyers.
All-Nighter
“I wasn’t expecting to find something like this today,” says 27-year-old Megan Long, who has long been fascinated with vintage video games like the Intellivision II she procured from seller Johnny Samra—despite being born nearly two decades after the first version came out.
Down the way, Samra reminisces about staying up all night playing that selfsame Intellivision II with his brother, circa Christmas 1982. “I’ve been collecting all my life,” Samra says. “It’s fun when you’re young, to buy it all. Now, I gotta get rid of it all.” And the cycle begins anew.
