That was the saying on a tourist trinket that an aunt sent me from Pennsylvania Dutch Country many years ago. I was reminded of that saying on the drive that my wife and I went on yesterday. At one spot along the way, I saw what was a patch of freshly harvested timberland 40 years ago, though the average person wouldn’t recognize it as such these days. My father and I were walking the area with a group of fellow loggers, during a BMP workshop put on by the WVDNR back then, when I spied an unusual-looking stone along the rough edge of a reclaimed logging road. It reminded me somewhat of hematite, but was far heavier. I decided to take it home with me find out what sort of material it was, but after an hour or so of carrying the softball-sized chunk of over-weight stone around, I reconsidered the idea and dropped it along the road’s edge.
It was only after getting back home, doing a little research and asking around among a few knowledgeable folks, that I determined that I had thrown away a iron meteorite. It might have brought what a country kid like me would have considered a fair chunk of change. I considered going back to get it, but I didn’t know who to ask permission from to go on the land and didn’t want to trespass. Besides, it was several miles away in another county. I mentally kicked myself in the keister every time I went by there for a few years. Needless to say, I’ve never found another one! © 2014