Page 23 - November Banner 2017_Neat

Published by www.EPlusPromotes.com www.TheCatoctinBanner.com The Catoctin Banner Newspaper November 2017 Page 23

In theIr own words

A Tribute to Bruce May

by Victoria Moser

So, for school, I had to write a paper describing a oldies are rarely ever playing, and none of the guys who
person who was a place, and the place was the person. If work there wear pink, but his legacy lives on. It lives
you wanna read a little something about one of the most on in all the family that works there: my grandma, my
amazing men I know, my Pappy, I’ll put it here… mom, me, my dad, my uncle, and my cousins. It lives
Larry Bruce May was an amazing man and, apart on in the auctioneers and the people that go there, who
from his family, there was nothing he loved more than his still say the things that he used to. When they call out
business. He ran the Emmitsburg Auction, and it was his “Cheap! Cheap!” or “We have got to sell this now…lady
life. He was integrated into every aspect of the business. is having a baby” or “The only thing wrong with this is
When you walked in, you could count on seeing Bruce the price!” you can almost hear his voice saying it and
in his pink button down flannel, a pair of medium wash it is impossible to not chuckle to yourself. Every time
jeans, suspenders crisscrossed in the back, and a pair of someone walks up behind me and rubs my shoulders for
snakeskin cowboy boots. If you did not hear his deep, a second, I feel his rough hands and hear his voice saying
husky voice on the phone, schmoozing a customer, you “Where have you been?”, even though he knew I had
would hear it singing the oldies. His favorite song was been there working for hours. Even his jokes stuck, like
“Amazing Grace,” and the radio was always playing. He how everyone picks on my cousin, Chelsea, for always,
was the best grandfather I could ever ask for. always being late.
Pappy Bruce spent his life at the auction. I stayed Not much has changed about the way the business is
with my grandparents a lot when I was younger. He run either. It is still open on the same days and still has
was always up before the sun, around four or five in the same days off. It carries the same hours. The schedule
the morning. He would go to the Exxon, get a cup of on sale day is the same. The way the clerks “clerk,”
coffee and a newspaper, go check on the auction, and the office girls check people out, and the auctioneers
come home. Then he left again to go in to work for the handle themselves, is all the same. All of his “rules” are
day, around seven. He was never home before six in the followed—even though he is not around—by almost
evening—hungry and happy. everyone, merely out of his memory.
The auction was a direct reflection of Pappy. The There is nothing about the auction that does not
dusty, dirty floors came in on his boots from the rocky remind me of Pappy Bruce. It was his baby, and he was
ground outside. The slow, even music was his favorite very good at raising it. Even when he was horribly sick
from his younger days. The old, musty smell of antiques with COPD, he was there more often than not. He would
and his cologne was everywhere, even when he was be tired, slow, and pale in the face, working hard through ads @ thecatoctinbanner . com
not at the auction house. Even the atmosphere of the the pain, but he was there, happy and loving as ever. His
place was completely him. It was straight to the point, humor was never ending.
business-like, but also full of love for things that were My grandmother’s last promise to him was to keep
no longer new, and even more beautiful, a love of fellow the auction open, to keep it going. Now, it is even more
human beings. of a family business, as my dad joined the team and we
My grandfather passed away a couple of years ago, all keep his memory alive by just being influenced by
around Easter time. To this day, I remember the feel of him. All of the things we do reflect him, all of the things
that pink flannel, soft and thin, like a child’s favorite we say there. There are times when there are breaks or
blanket. I remember his voice, comforting, and so, so full people will just come up to us to reminisce with us about
of love. I remember the smell of his cologne, musky and him because something there made them think of him.
manly and just so him. I remember his smile, his stern All of the stories make my heart warm, all of the happy
voice when we were bad, and all of the sayings that just memories of him handing out lollipops to kids (which we
made Pappy Bruce who he was. still do), memories of him laughing or joking, memories
Even though he is not at the auction every single of him putting his foot down with customers who took
day anymore physically, every time you go in, you his kindness for weakness, and many more. There is
can still feel him there. It hasn’t been easy to keep the never a negative thing to be said about him.
auction going without him. In fact, a lot of things have Every time I go to the auction, for even just a minute,
been almost if I relax and take a minute to just think, he is all I can
impossibly hard think about. I hear him, smell him, and miss him more
without him than I could ever express. The only thing that makes
there to guide missing him better is the auction: I can go there and just
us. That being feel his presence, to this day. I can sit and remember all
said, it would the things he said there and did there for others. I can
be impossible to also remember how above-and-beyond he always went
forget him. for me. He was the most generous, amazing, smartest
Now, when man anyone could have ever met. All who met him loved
you walk into him and many of the customers he had, still come in to
the auction, the auction and remember him there, the same way I
the scent of do—at least every Sunday on sale day. My Pappy, the
his cologne antique master, the auctioneer, the best boss; he was the
is gone, the auction and the auction is him.

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