csxns ATLANTIC CENTRAL investments. To me my Trains is a Investment they keep me going they keep me alive and they make me happy if it were not for my Trains I will be lost.
ATLANTIC CENTRAL investments.
To me my Trains is a Investment they keep me going they keep me alive and they make me happy if it were not for my Trains I will be lost.
That is a different kind of investment. And that is what my trains are to me, an investment other types of people make going on expensive vacations, etc.
Sheldon
ATLANTIC CENTRALinvestments.
Russell
Gene-
I am most concerned about my heir (wife) having to deal with my models after I depart, if that should happen in that order. We have no close family and it will be all in her hands.
I sense the monetary struggle that some go through, thinking it is worth x dollars and actually not easy to get that, or even realistic. Heirs may feel a responsibility to monetize or otherwise dismantle the layout in a certain way.
After witnessing others struggling with expectations, I decided to keep my stuff to a minimum by selling off a majority of stuff (just went through this a couple months ago) while I am able. At age 66 i feel there are still many good years ahead of me (I still work full time), but don't want there to be a burden for her. To me, the best approach is to not leave a basement full of stuff for her to deal with.
I listed my things on ebay with a .99 price. Everything in good running order. Unbelievably, some of the freight cars were not bid on in the first round. Everything finally sold but some did only bring .99 plus shipping. On the up side, some things brought more than I expected so it kind of balanced out. Any further sales, I will be picking a higher starting price and doing free shipping. I am not out to make a bunch of money but want to be a good steward at the same time.
I feel good about thinning out my posessions, but admit some things are a bit hard to let go of.
Dave Banta
Modelling the Northern Pacific
Hi Gene.
I think we all have thoughts about what happens to our prized possessions once we have moved on. I am on the same page as Sheldon on this one, it is just stuff. If the retail value of my train stuff is $30,000.00 what can be the expected return on the aftermarket upon my demise?
Both my kids are highly paid professionals and it would be a waste of their time trying to sell this stuff. I have told them to get hold of one of the established clubs in the region and let them have it all. They can keep what they want and sell the rest at train shows to raise money for the club. A well-established club will have people in it who know the value of what they have.
I have been an Executor more times than I wished I had said yes to. Early on it was clear to me that other people's stuff can mean very little to others. I have sold houses of the deceased with the entire contents included because no one wanted the stuff inside and the most economical way to dispose of the contents was to include them in the house sale.
I am 67 and at some point in my life, I learned that the value of material possessions is limited. It is not anything I spend time thinking about at this point in my life.
Brent
"All of the world's problems are the result of the difference between how we think and how the world works."
Gene, what a thoughtfully considered and beautifully written essay. I loved it. It did make me sad, but only because you're singing my song. I think very often about the piles of stuff I own, even though we give things away by the car load. It keeps coming up, out of our closets and drawers, like bolders in a farmer's field.
Like Sheldon, I don't think of my model railroad stuff as investments, not monetary ones anyway. As I get older, I might leave a list of items that are worth a coin or two in case my family wants to recoup something, but I know my wife -- she'll give the stuff away on our local Buy Nothing group to some eager kid -- and mainly I've amassed my collection at swap meets and on eBay for ridiculous deals.
Really I saw your musings as reflections about letting go, which is possibly the most significant emotional journey any of us will ever embark on. For me, this has been brought into stark relief lately by the necessity of moving my mother out of her house an hour away to an apartment close to us. It was terribly difficult for her to part with furniture and books and knick-knacks she'd owned and treasured, and none of her family wants to own these things. They've become burdens to my wife and me as we try to find homes for things. The whole exhausting process has made me realize that I don't want to leave all this behind me for my own family to dispense with.
But selling stuff is a pain. Takes time, and time is the ONE thing I cannot get more of (and a certain kind of young person's muscle, I guess). So I've begun giving things away, and I've found it a sad, painful, rewarding and even joyous process. The vinyl record collection I carried from house to house for 45 years went to a little record shop nearby; the guys were overjoyed to receive it. I've been thinning my library of nice hardback first editions, when a nephew or niece or a friend expresses interest in a book I own -- "here, allow me to make you a gift of this". It's been crazy fun. And we haul clothes and old lamps to Goodwill, or if something is really cool, we give it away on Buy Nothing.
I am also the central repository for my large clan's family photos and letters and memoirs and genealogies -- they arrive on my doorstep unbidden. Not sure how that even happened. This is a nightmare. Too important (someday, to someone) to throw away, but taking up space. This is the stuff I worry about. No one is currently interested in all the history I know about our family, but they might be someday, and I don't want to have to shrug and say -- "I pitched all that info".
I only got back into model railroading just before the pandemic, so I'm not worrying about getting rid of all of that real soon. My wife knows that when I'm gone, she's free to give what she can away and haul the rest of it to the dump. However, I do have too much rolling stock and too many locomotives already for my tiny layout, and I'm setting aside some of the things I bought early on that I don't really want anymore, because a couple of very young kids I know have expressed interest. I'm waiting for one of them to say, "I wish I had a layout". If they never do, I'll give it away somewhere else.
I hope you come to some peace about your layout, Gene. Thanks for the topic.
-Matt
Returning to model railroading after 40 years and taking unconscionable liberties with the SP&S, Northern Pacific and Great Northern roads in the '40s and '50s.
I feel bad for you, mainly because you seem to be so conflicted. You will likely get many replies, mostly thoughtful and respectful, but no one can really tell you the best thing to do. My advice would be to prioritize all of the options that you discussed in your post. Then do what you consider best.
Rich
Alton Junction
Gene,
This has been discussed on here (and likely every forum in this hobby) many times before.
Personally, I have never seen model trains, or any of my worldly possessions other than real estate, as investments.
I buy model trains with what I call "restaurant money", money you know you will not get back the minute you spend it.
I have, partly by plan and partly by accident, created a life style that has never spent any great amont of money on fancy or frequent travel or vacations, overly expensive cars, boats, or other expensive toys - except model trains.
I do have a grandson who will likely enjoy the trains, and a granddaughter who will enjoy the vinyl record collection.
But if things change and that does not work out - so what? I won't be here.
I have never lived my life trying to control outcomes related to the choices or behaviors of others. I have no such expectations after I am gone.
But I have no plans to stop living, give up my toys, or try to plan past the simple assignment of things in my will.
Others will feel differently.
I have friends who made choices to take down layouts, move into retirement communities, give away or sell their stuff. I'm sure they made the right choice for them.
I'm about to be 67 and starting a new layout, a big layout. Hopefully I can enjoy the hobby to its fullest for the next 10, or how many ever years. Not really in my control.
I am blessed to be in pretty good health, so we will see. I'm still working, self employed, starting to wind that down. Not sure when or if I might stop completely. But last week I worked two days and spent three days on home projects and layout construction.
People always leave something for others to take care of or dispose of. It is part of life. After everything I have done for them, the least my children can do is fill the dumpster or have a yard sale if it comes to that.
I'm 71, and my health isn't the best it could be. It takes exactly no brains at all, to realize I have a lot more days behind me than before me. Every time I look at my layout and the tons of stuff (!!!) I've acquired over the decades, I wonder what'll happen to it when I'm gone. Although I know some people who bristle at the subject, I strongly believe end-of-life subjects, and the decisions that may be involved, are not wisely ignored.
I have averse feelings about denying my surviving family the prerogative of dividing up my possessions either when I'm gone, or if I have to eventually relocate to quarters far smaller than I now own, especially if I'm no longer competent to have a say in such decisions. The fact that 100% of them live hundreds of miles away, and that none of them have expressed real interest in model railroading suggests to me a general lack of interest, except that there may be some financial legacy related to divestment of my collection. We have no children of our own. The fact that I was away from my family for the many years I was in the Navy worked against my being a regular or frequent participant or motivator in the growth and development of my peers or younger family members. Many got train sets as gifts when younger, but Uncle Gene wasn't often there to exemplify how much playing with them and imagining their expansion could mean.
The modeling community is familiar with stories about how difficult and financially unrewarding it can be, to dispose of a collection, not to mention the difficulties involved in disassembling and salvaging layout parts for reuse elsewhere. Now and then we hear stories of a layout, perhaps well known in the hobby, ending up with a happy forever home in a museum. I love those stories, because I understand that the best way to ensure the future continuance and growth of the hobby is dependent on its accessibility and visibility. My love of the community is much reflective of how I love how eager so many of us are, to share things we've learned. This is a hugely generous bunch of people.
I won't even go into why I support the future growth of the hobby, because I know I'd be preaching to the choir. The forum threads are loaded with honest and well reasoned justifications for its value far beyond the simple (and awesome) fun factor, or instilling a sense of beneficial use of time. It is an education in many aspects of history, of electronic and electrical skills, mechanical skills, artistic expression, and huge leaps of ingenuity and creativity, for starters. I say that anything challenging to a person's imagination is a lifelong plus.
I will mention the age-old implied tension between wanting kids, in particular, not to touch my stuff too much, and embracing the clear and broad value of doing what I can to get them to touch something as rewarding and engaging as model railroading is and always has been. Some of the most disappointing 'educational' experiences I can recall involve perfectly well meaning people exposing kids to subjects everyone understands will immediately fascinate the kids, but the kids are confronted with glass walls and frightening signs telling them, in essence, that the objects in view are not their territory.
My lifelong absorbtion in railroading, model and prototype, is directly a consequence of two things: growing up alongside the Long Island Rail Road, and the annual holiday thrill of a Lionel layout appearing in the lobby of my elementary school principal's office. The fact that my beloved grandparents arrived at least two weekends a month at our suburban NY home, from a trip that began at the LIRR's Jamaica Station, no doubt had had an effect too. I have always associated railroads with good things and happy occasions, even though I've also had the experience of meeting a coffin at a freight house door. The bottom line for me was always that anything capable of delivering matched sets of live grandparents was just plain good, no further discussion required.
We have a wonderful rural museum in our community. It's loaded with fun and educational things for people of all ages. Could I find a happy home for my collection if I helped raise funds for a new or rehabbed building there? I'm mindful that embracing such a task, and whatever responsibilities that come with initiating such a project, could have positive and long term benefits, both to the museum and to the surrounding community. I've done enough community fund raising, organizing and grant writing through my careers in historic preservation and civic activism, to know the undeniable benefits of thinking outside the box, and thinking bigger than some others may dare to try. If a little good is laudable, a lot of good is better.
I've already had one short conversation with the principal of a local high school, about the school possibly being the recipient of what I now own. She was immediately on board after I spent less than five minutes discussing what I saw as the potential benefit of a model railroad club (that arrived on the doorstep with $30K of good-to-excellent equipment) at that school. As in: there are no drawbacks - challenges to be sure, but no real drawbacks - and there's no end of advantages. She implied an expectation that I might be wanted as a regular source of supervision, guidance and sharing skills, if the idea was to come to best fruition. There would, in such cases, be the commitment of volunteer time to consider.
It wouldn't bother me a bit, to consider how a legacy I might bestow might help my community. My family, however distant they may be, are also part of my personal community, so everyone is served and everyopne benefits if they want to.
One has to be prepared for at least two personal consequences that may take some thought and understanding.
If I give my collection away, obviously it won't be mine any longer. Although gifts and donations can be given with conditions, if such conditions become onerous to the recipient(s), the gift or donation can end up feeling more like a curse than a blessing. I've seen this happen; when it does, loss, later rejection or abandonment of the entire gift is a possible outcome. The whole point of the gift can be irretrievably lost, along with the gift itself.
If I give my collection away, I will no longer have much say, if any at all, in what's done with it, even a potential breakup and disbursement of it when the home one imagined for it is no longer welcoming, or no longer able to house and use it in a manner worth the doing.
In short, if I give it away I really have to be prepared to lose any say in what happens to it. A worst possible outcome, if the situation isn't handled well in the present and future, is to have an old guy standing around muttering about how those kids don't know what they're doing. That loss of a say includes, as I'm sure it would with other modelers, loss of significance to others about the possible sentimental and other value of individual pieces of the collection. There's the 70-year-old locomotive I was given after I salvaged it from the ruins of the Gold Coast Railroad Museum after Hurricane Andrew. I supervised the federal program that allowed the museum to recover, after its members and leaders thought they had to write it off as a total loss. There's the parlor car "Asheville,: named for my late brother's place of birth, and the observation car "Coney Island," named for my mother's birthplace.
I will no longer be able to carefully guard the collection from damage or loss. I will no longer be able to say that the mirrors on the dozens of hand-built circus wagons have to be polished before anyone dare set them on the layout. I may not even know if my freelance railroad, the Great Lakes & Hudson's River Railroad, named to remember the birthplaces of myself and my spouse, will survive in the near or long term. I will no longer be able to whisper to myself that careless or willfully ignorant fools and idiots need not apply for the right to hold a throttle.
Obviously, if you've read this far, I'm writing as much to being working myself through the emotional stages of giving up my part in the hobby, a deeply personal investment that has nothing to do with dollars. I already know I'm not the only member of our community having to deal with this, and I've heard my share of stories abut this going well or very badly for others.
The real reason I write is in the hope of engaging others in conversations on this general subject. There's more than enough wisdom and experience here, for me to know I will benefit from the thoughts and experiences of all of you. The only fare for coming aboard is the cost of loving what we do. You've all already paid that, amply and long ego.
Best wishes - Gene