How Did You Get Into Collecting Stamps?

For me, it was seeing stamp packets for sale in a variety store in the neighbourhood where I went to school, the Kennedy Heights area of Delta, B.C. I was in first grade, and remember it all like it was yesterday, although it happened in the winter of 1967. It was a store called Reid's House of Ideas, and my dad and I were Christmas shopping for my mom.

The packets were all arranged on a postcard rack, each pack backed by a piece of bright cardboard, the top of which was printed "Stamps - 10c - Stamps". There were also packets for 15c and 25c, and I asked my dad about them. He said that people collected them, and that was that. As I recall, we went on to buy a pair of wall plaques for my mom, which my dad thought would look fantastic on the wall behind the couch in the living room.

For Christmas, from one of my dad's aunts, I got money. I got other things from her too, but whenever Aunt Mary would send a card or a letter, there would usually be one or two American dollars tucked into it for me, and the same amount for my younger brother. Aunt Mary lived in Lewiston, N.Y., far, far away. This money went dutifully into my piggy bank, as usual. Supposedly, we were "saving for something"; what that something was or could be was usually vague. Usually, dad said it was for "a rainy day", something that was never in short supply in the outskirts of Vancouver!

School went back in after New Years' Day, and I found myself walking past Reid's the first day back. Looking through the window on the way by, I could see the rack of stamps, and I thought to myself that the rainy day had indeed come. Back at home that night, I secretly ransacked my piggy bank -- but not totally; I knew enough not to spend it all at once.

The next day after school, I stepped into Reid's with $4 in my pocket -- exactly a third of the paper money in my bank. I already knew that there were ten dimes in a dollar, and I figured out that there were forty in $4, so I already knew how many packets I could buy. I walked up to the rack and started looking through the packets. It seemed that it took an awfully long time to count out 40, but I finally did, eschewing those packets that only had two or three stamps in them for those that contained about 10 to 15 each.

The man behind the counter rang up the sale and asked me for $4.20. Panic immediately set in, because I knew that this was more than I had.

This was my first encounter with sales tax. Luckily, as it turned out, it was also my first encounter with foreign exchange. He looked at the four American dollars I had laid on the counter, hummed a bit, and then pronounced it as "Close enough", took the money, and bagged my purchase, and I was off home.

I did feel a little guilty, though. I knew my mother would never abide by my robbing my piggy bank. Dad, though, was a softer touch, and luckily, he got home from work everyday before mom did, so I exhibited my purchases to him when he got in from his job as a heavy equipment operator down on the docks.

He took a look and grinned, saying that it probably wouldn't be a good idea to show off my instant collection to my mother. He knew full well where the money had come from, and suggested that I put them away in my desk for now, because I would now need an album to put them in.

Dad didn't collect anything himself. His hobbies were limited to woodwork, fishing, and hunting, but he had a rudimentary knowledge of what was involved in stamp collecting, at least enough to know that an album was necessary. For now, at least, the fact that I had bought some stamps was "our little secret", he said.

The following Monday night, dad was a little late in getting home. When he arrived, it was with a sealed bag, which he handed to me, saying that inside was something he knew I needed.

I undid the tape on the bag and put my hand inside, only to draw out a book with a red comb binding and cardboard covers. Written on the middle of the fromt of the cover was "THE MAJESTIC STAMP ALBUM" in a big red square, surrounded on all four sides with pictures of stamps. Also in the bag was an envelope of stamp hinges.

Dad opened the book and showed me that it had illustrations inside it and explained that I had to hinge the stamps and put them on the illustrations. He showed me how the hinges were used to do this. He also mentioned that I had to use the identifier in the back of the book if I had a stamp I couldn't find a picture for. I asked him how he knew so much about it, and he replied that he had stopped at a stamp shop that he drove past everyday on the way to and from work, and talked to the guy who ran it, who gave him a crash course on stamp collecting.

As to my mother, dad explained not to worry, because he had already mentioned my choice of hobby to her, and she was now "okay" with it!


*

I became involved in collecting via my grandmother, that lived next door, she was a US collector and used the Liberty album. I was around 8 years old. I enjoyed going through her duplicates and soaking stamps from mail she got from work. My first album was Scotts Minuteman. I recall ordering stamps from Mystic and reading Linn's from time to time. We had a wonderful postmaster, Byron Crawley, in our small town. He would always let me know when new issues were in and would give me the stamp advertising posters from the lobby (which I do not have any longer)this was the mid 1980's. I distinctly remember using my allowance money to purchase the Wildlife sheet of 50 at the post office.

How did I get into stamps ? I guess I am the misfit in the family..i always loved to read books from the beginning of school...one day in a friends room I saw a scott international junior edition album..it fascinated me..i opened it and saw the colorful leopard stamps from the French Congo..that was it..i was hooked...many of the stamps I play with are not expensive...but it relaxes me to work with them..whatever reason makes us stamp collectors we share a common bond and many of us become instant friends because of our similar interest...we probably do not even collect the same countries..but it does not seem to matter..we all have the bug !!

My story is rather convluted. When I was 18 there was this girl. Unfortunately, she was only 16 and her father was the chief of police. We grew rather fond of each other and everything was going well until one Thanksgiving afternoon he caught us sharing something other than turkey.

To make a long story short, the judge offered me three choices: 1) I could go to jail for five to seven years, 2) I could join the Army for a minimum four year hitch, or 3) I could take up stamp collecting.

I ddn't mind prison all that much.

After I got out, however, I found that collecting stamps gave me an opportunity to do something ordered and peaceful. And here I am 40+ years later - addicted to the SCF and spending my kids inheritance on "silly little pieces of paper."

Ok..you win !!

I can't remember the year, but I think it was in the 1990s. Details are fuzzy, but I think my Mom dug out a Harris US album that my grandmother gave us kids in the 1980s. With it were some loose stamps. I remember sitting at the dining room table, sorting through them all, not knowing WHAT I was doing. I ended up with a small price guide, and learned about Scott #s. Then I went nuts. I started getting approvals in the mail, buying packets, etc. Started getting some new foreign issues. THEN, it all stopped. Stamp collecting went into hibernation. This past year, while unemployed, I had time to look at my collection. I started reorganizing things. I've picked up a few new items with money I've earned selling other items on ebay. Now, I am into stamps again... but have to restrain myself!

I started stamp collecting quite by accident. Up until the day I finished my university studies, I had zero interest in the hobby until I spotted the "Canadian Museum of Civilization" booklet on display at the post office. While waiting in line, I couldn't stop staring at those stamps. For some bizarre reason, I had an uncontrollable desire to possess it (I had never bought commemoratives issues before, even just to use as postage). Without understanding why, I purchased the booklet, and I've been hooked on stamps ever since. As Gollum would say, "My preciousssssss..."

I suppose I was about 8 years old,
I snuck under the flap of a tent in the fairground
I recall the smell of incense in the dimly lit
canvas, strange eerie shapes were cast by passers by outside,
but inside was curiously inviting.

At a table was a strange looking woman, the reflected glow
of the bright round globe of glass highlighted a large
mole on her chin, her hair was tied back by a dirty red
bandana, her sandals were of cheap leather and the sole was lifting
from one as she altered her posture.

She was mumbling something, which at the time I thought was odd
as there was no one in the vacant chair opposite her
across a small round table, with a cloth of stars and planets.

As I crept closer, I could sense a faint aroma of her breath
as her words began to become clearer,
I was emboldened to get ever nearer as her eyes were closed, and she was not with us, but at a place far off.

At the time I did not understand, but I was sure
she was incanting, "there will be paper, lots of paper,
books, and gum, and strange torn pictures"
"you shall not tire, but become ever deeper in your
search for ever expanding copies"
"you too will have a crystal ball, but yours will be square
and give a strange glow as well, with words and pictures"
"You will become entranced by your little pictures and
fall victim to their charm...."

I became scared and bolted out the entrance,
took a deep breath
and went searching for my mate Tim, I figured would be in the "Man eating Crabs" tent, or the Ghost Train.

LOL @Rod222, you are a complex and funny character ;) Really great stories everyone! I, myself, have been with my husband 7 years and have had a box of inherited stamps moving around with us for that long. 6 months ago, I decided to open the box to actually see the contents for the first time. (ashamed for waiting so long!) Us with 2 kids and having the housing market abruptly making it impossible to afford a home for a young family, my husband insited we have the collection appraised to see if it was worthy of selling for savings...I cried the day the appraiser came, as I was afraid I would have to part with them. I fell in love instantly and had a large collection already started for me. My husband, who is compassionate enough to sense my feelings for these "silly pieces of paper", and realized that no dollar sign could replace my affection for this aquisition. I've since grown and loved this collection since the day he and his brother (who originally inherited this collection and were to split whatever profit)decided to give it to me :) Now i'm sure his Uncle Herb(whom the collection belonged to) is very greatful it went to someone who truly cares and is interested in more than the dollar signs (though I will always have my eye open for that retirment stamp!!) hahaha!! It's been alot of fun so far and look forward to many more years of this truly great hobby (spent with all of you here at SCF of course :) ~Ash

I suppose my start came from a couple of directions. As I've written on other posts, I first started collecting what would now be called world stamps out of a cereal box. Muffets, I think it was started packing little plastic packets of stamps in their boxes, and I started accumulating. I was already aware of the world of stamps. My dad had an old envelope in his dresser that my sibs and I would ask to see occasionally. Old dirty pieces of paper from around the world with long dead kings and queens on them.
As my collection grew I gathered more from varied places. Had a couple of friends I traded with. My home town had a small store called Cooke's Curiosity Shop, which sold everything. There was a box full of stamps in front of Cookie's cash register, and you could pick hand fulls for pennies. Then I started sending away to Harris and other companies for packets. I became a real pro. I made my own albums out of binders and blank paper. Those yellowing pages have since been replace with acid free!
I also had an uncle I loved dearly, Uncle Rog, who was a collector from way back. His collection was a thing of wonder. He taught me about stamp tongs and Columbian 'broken hats'
I often hoped I'd inherit his marvelous collection after he passed away, but I think my aged aunt still sticks stamps in it to this day.
Last summer, as I neared 50, my wife asked, not for the first time, what I was going to do with all those old binders full of stamps? I hadn't touched them since I was probably 17, when beer and girls stole my attention.
After consideration I decided to get back into it, but specialize. So I kept my US and Canadian collections and took the rest to a dealer in Toronto who promptly declared "there's a lot of paper in here", and he wasn't talking about the stamps. OK, so there were a few sparse pages. In the end he gave me $20 in trade (got a mint 1898 Canadian Xmas, to go with the dirty one from my dad's envelope). I think he got the better part of the deal.
But now I'm expanding the collection, and enjoying my renewed interest, and my new found obsession in SCF.
I've been looking for work for the last six months (things are happening, happily) but the stamps have kept me sane and given me a place to focus my mind especially on those days when I think nothing is going to happen.
My wife and daughters often ask if these things will be worth something someday. And I just say, they are now.

"My wife and daughters often ask if these things will be worth something someday. And I just say, they are now."

I Don't know how to make the blue quote box appear, but JamesW I really like this sentiment :)

My dad gave me his collection when I was about ten and said probably the most important thing I have ever heard in my entire life. He said "Jeff, these stamps will give you more friends than you can imagine and they will be your passport to anywhere in anytime." I don't know if he rehearsed that but these little pieces of smudged up paper have educated me, led me around the world, and introduced me to a multitude of friends. Thanks Dad.

I've been collecting since 1968. I used to cut grass during the summer, shovel snow in the winter, and deliver papers year round. I was out shoveling snow and got cold so I went into a second hand store in Taylorville, Ill to warm up. I wandered around the dusty shop and found a frame with a sheet of C-120 from Costa Rica in it. It was marked $4.50. I asked the propreitor if he needed his sidewalk shoveled as he had an item I liked. I ended up shoveling the walk out front and his parking area in back but I left with the frame full of stamps.
I have been collecting off and on since.

I sort of collected as a kid but it was the 'in' thing to do for a short time until other stuff came along.
And even when my Grandad and then my Dad gave me their Simple Albums, it really didn't hit the right cells.
The taper was alight a little after I stumbled upon 'StampWorld, London90' in Alexandra Park on a nice May afternoon. But even then, more pressing events were to the fore.......a trip to the Middle East no less.

So it was in Cairo where it all began, where it really began. One hot and sticky afternoon I trawled the backstreets of this amazing city to find the 'local' stuff. Those places that the dollar tourists never see, the crumbling Mosques and houses and those out-of-the-Way oddities that are only found on foot. This was the real Cairo...and it was fascinating. Invites to drink coffee were common, chance meetings with amazing local vendors and Children and offers to visit the top of the mostly forgotten Mosque Minarets.
The roads and sidewalks of these tiny streets were crumbling and rough. It wasn't advisable to walk with your head held high or you may have ended up on your a**e.
But that is exactly what happened to me !
And when I looked up there it was. Dirty,dusty windows hiding some very faded and rough-looking philatelic specimens. It looked like a closed shop that had seen better days, one where the last owner had forgotten, or just did not bother, to remove the items in the window upon departure. I remember it niggled me somewhat and I brushed aside some dust from the glass to have a better look.
Hey ! It wasn't closed! The lights were on and I saw a man. Was this a cue to enter on this hot and dusty day....I guess it must have been.
The elderly owner of that shop welcomed me in, he spoke some English, enough for the occasion I can say. He offered me Turkish Coffee and water and he let me look, freely, all over his shop. I opened tiny wooden drawers of old antique filing cabinets, looked inside boxes and tins, moved piles of pages from one place to another.It was the most delightful mess I had ever seen. I was there for at least two hours, probably a lot more. I purchased from this old man some stamps,covers and a couple of small catalogues.
I exited the premises in fading sunlight with a huge grin on my face. I can remember to this day a feeling of immense excitment when I left and throughout the rest of the trip. I also remember looking for more Stamp shops during the trip.

So that's where it began.
And all you lot can blame that dusty,dirty little Stamp shop in the backstreets of Cairo for this story I have just written.



Londonbus1

I recall when I was very young my mom bought me a junior stamp kit from I believe the store was "Steinburgs" no longer in Canada and I think now Steinmart. I remember being more entranced by the 2 penpals I made and usually disarded the envelope and stamps to quickly read the contents. Longgggg many year pause . I've always been a collector of sorts not having a whole lot in material possesions as a youngster or teen and can recall some intense financial struggling through most of my younger years. I remember using powdered milk while many if not all my same age peers heard of it but could never understand it. I think that is why I started to collect as a means of acquiring possesions that were somehow linked to monetary well being. Stamps only recently came back into my life approximatly 4 years ago when a close friend of My mothers politely gave me 24hrs to get all these boxes out of his house or they were going to the dumpster. 12-15 boxes later I was involved but still had $$ signs in my head and didn't get it. Ironically said stamps allowed me to quit my job and take care of my mother through her 16 month fight with Cancer. Selling off many of the duplicate Canada and various worldwide countries basically paid my bills during that time . The collector in me had me put away at least as much of my homeland Canada as possible and only recently and have to admit with alot of help from the great people On SCF I've finally discovered that it has nothing to do with monetary value it is the people you meet the stories you hear the importance of History and the peace of mind that can be attained.
Rod -- You kill me daily (with laughter) -- You need to have a Rod's daily word to the wise or some such daily tidbit. Your above story reads like the opening act of a well narrated play.

I started as an adult - I was a Scoutmaster and was looking for merit badges to teach and self taught myself the stamp collecting badge and then got hooked on it myself. Kind of the reverse you normally think of with Scouting merit badge.