I was born in 1966 in Philadelphia, stamped fresh and shiny with over 820 million of my brothers. Still warm from the stamping, I was struck up fully and my clad coat reflected light like the blazing sun. We were no phony imitation of my older silver brothers, we were the future of
US coinage, we would be bright and white while our older brothers were gray and tarnished. Their time was over, worth more for their metal content than their stamped value. I would never be a bullion coin and I looked forward to a career in commerce.
We were shipped to the First National Bank of Philadelphia where I was rolled up in a forty seater. Within a week I was taken to the Hallmark Card Store on 1st street. On Mother's day in 1966 Joey Smith bought a card and the register had run out of change. Wham! We were struck on the side of the counter and I was given to Joey in change. That's where I got my first rim ding at 1 o'clock. Joey bought a pack of gum at the 5 and 10c Store and I ended up a woman's purse, jangling around with a bunch of non-descript sharp objects, getting a few nicks and cuts here and there. She took me home and gave me to her son as an allowance. I sat in some sort of a glass pig for nearly 6 years until the boy, now a teen, smashed the pig with a hammer. He also smashed me in the process. That's how I got the dig on my face. I was carried with all the change to go somewhere, but on the way I fell on the street. It was a pretty busy street and cars ran over me again and again, flipping me over and dragging me across the road surface. I nearly lost my coat over this.
Fortunately, I was eventually rescued from this fate and brought to some sort of automated counting machine where I jammed up the mechanism because I was so bunged up from the road. The technician tried to fix me so I could go through his machine and his tool was a hammer. Ouch! He flattened my rims but good. His name was Coinmaster.
In 1976 I was paid for a pack of Topps cards. In 1977, a Zagnut bar. The ugliest coin in the register, I was always first out of the pocket and first back out of the register. I saw a lot of action those days. In 1980, I found my way into Corrado Romano's pocket in Boston. He had a
Gobrecht dollar with a hole in it as his pocket piece, which was an interesting companion for a while. Oh, the stories he told. I actually made my way to the
ANA convention in 1982, my first real coin show! I was too ugly to ever be on display, but at least I could participate. I ended up buying a hot dog.
I travelled across America and bought many small things. I heard we may be replaced with some kind of plastic card soon. How do you carry a pocketful of plastic cards anyway? Maybe someday I will be deemed so interesting, I can retire from commerce and sit in someone's draw as a topic of conversation and forum posts. I've had an interesting 50 years and have many stories to tell.
The Ugly Coin
Posted 11/04/2015 5:53 pm
