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Dakota Dogman

What are your Prized Possessions

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GB Jack

My grandfathers flag from

WW2, my fathers Arrieta, and my driftboat. I'd have to be in some real serious financial trouble to ever part with them. It's kinda what I remember of my grandpa/ and dad, and my driftboat, is old, beat, and not worth that much, but I've nursed it back to health, and gave it some updates, ( even the trailer) and its a source of pride for me

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ShortTailGuy
I was talking to my parents one time and was remembering the toy soldiers I used to have and thought they were long gone.  My mom got up and walked over to the china cabinet and came back and handed me a worn out paper bag. Here inside were those toy soldiers. I  have a Zoro watch that my parents bought me that still works. A picture of me standing in front of an MGA at Niagara Falls in 1962.  I guess that was the start of my love affair with British cars because I have a 74 TR6. Oh yea My dad gave me a small metal 35mm film canister and in it were the old army can openers he had when he was in the Army.

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juneboy1
Pictures of past dogs and hunting buddies and my Collings guitars.

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HuntersDad

I've thought about this for awhile before responding and I would have to say my 20 GA W. Richards and my Kevlar helmet from my first deployment to Iraq.  The gun my wife surprised me with when I came from Afghanistan in 2012.  She knew I had been waiting a nice double for quite awhile and surprised with it when I made it home.  The Kevlar I wore everyday when I was in Iraq for my very first deployment.  I wrote the months on it with a sharpie the first of every month and at the end of the deployment everyone in my platoon signed it for me.  Some of those guys are no longer with us but I can pick up that helmet and see their faces clear as day.

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Crazy Horse

I've been somewhat reluctant to post this. As you age some things take on a great deal more worth. I've told my wife should the house ever catch fire forget my guns and other so called treasures I've acquired over the years; grab my Combat Medic Badge.

I consider it to be my most valuable possession. It';s not very big though it is sterling silver. I wear it but twice a year, Memorial Day and Veterans Day to honor those men from my old combat company, "B" Co. 1st Batl., 3rd Bgd, 7th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division. RVN, 68/69.

"Garry Owen"

Combat_Medic_Badge.jpg

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Gunflint Charlie

I've been somewhat reluctant to post this. As you age some things take on a great deal more worth. I've told my wife should the house ever catch fire forget my guns and other so called treasures I've acquired over the years; grab my Combat Medic Badge.

I consider it to be my most valuable possession. It';s not very big though it is sterling silver. I wear it but twice a year, Memorial Day and Veterans Day to honor those men from my old combat company, "B" Co. 1st Batl., 3rd Bgd, 7th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division. RVN, 68/69.

"Garry Owen"

Easy to understand you choosing this John. Now I understand your avatar. I'm glad you posted it.

Jay

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Pumpgun
If Brad can change his mind, I change mine too.  

I have a wrist watch that was given to my Grandfather by my Grandmother in 1942.  When I got it, it was in pretty bad shape.  The reason it was given to me was because shortly after my Grandfather passed, I was chit chatting with my Grandmother and told her how I once had a pocket watch that my father had given to me, but it was ruined because I fell off the jetty and into the Merrimack river while fishing for striper and the salt water destroyed it.  She said what a coincidence, I have a watch I gave to your Grandfather and not long after I gave it to him he ruined it the exact same way, exact same spot, over 50 years ago!  

She gave me the watch and I was able to buy the same vintage, make and model off eBay that was given by the US Postal service to a guy in 1942 for his years of service, and use it for parts to rebuild my Grandfathers watch (it's really the engraving on the back plate that was precious and that was salvaged).  

I have a gold pocket watch of his also, but I like the saga of the inexpensive Waltham wrist watch.  I'd go back into the burning building for that watch if things weren't too hot.  You never know, maybe I'll have grand kid that takes an unexpected dunk in the Merrimack one day and he'll need Grandpa's watch to replace the one he ruins.

Great story about a treasured timepiece.

I, too, have a very special watch, an Elgin pocket watch that was my Grandfather's high school graduation gift, in 1918.

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Firelight

Reading through this thread I asked myself, "what non-living thing(s) would I grab if there was a fire?"  What came to me was my photos, which are on an external drive (reminds me, I need to update that).  The photos themselves do not have any real value but to me they represent memories.  When I look at a photo it takes me to that time and place, whether it be a year ago or decades, and I get to relive and re-experience that for a little bit in my mind.  Even if a fire took away the objects that I value, I could at least be reminded of them through photos.  

I once put everything I owned in storage for a year+  while I traveled and then bought a new home.  I remember the feeling of watching the movers unload my stuff after a year....for some items it felt almost like seeing an old friend come off that truck.

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trust me
....for some items it felt almost like seeing an old friend ...

Exactly.

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Kemo Sabe

My family comes first, and that includes my dogs. With 4 kids graduating from major Universities, and all 4 getting degrees further from undergraduate, I couldn't be happier or prouder.

After that, it has to be my home. Not my house, but my home. It was built to raise a family in, and has been added onto to any adjustments that were needed. It has served us all so very well.

I have my favorite guns, and my favorite fishing poles -- some going back to my youth. None of either are remotely close to my soul as  my family and our home.

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FlyChamps
I've been somewhat reluctant to post this. As you age some things take on a great deal more worth. I've told my wife should the house ever catch fire forget my guns and other so called treasures I've acquired over the years; grab my Combat Medic Badge.

I consider it to be my most valuable possession. It';s not very big though it is sterling silver. I wear it but twice a year, Memorial Day and Veterans Day to honor those men from my old combat company, "B" Co. 1st Batl., 3rd Bgd, 7th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division. RVN, 68/69.

"Garry Owen"

Combat_Medic_Badge.jpg

My father died last August at the age of 95.

On the 20th of December 1944 his unit, the 771st Tank Battalion, was pulled out of Germany to Belgium and attached to the 84th Infantry Division to attack the Bulge from the North.  During the Bulge and subsequent combat he received 3 Bronze Stars and the Purple Heart - wounded on 1 May 1945 just a week to the day before the war ended.

Dad was a combat medic and, of all his possessions, his most prized was his Combat Medic Badge.

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Crazy Horse
I've been somewhat reluctant to post this. As you age some things take on a great deal more worth. I've told my wife should the house ever catch fire forget my guns and other so called treasures I've acquired over the years; grab my Combat Medic Badge.

I consider it to be my most valuable possession. It';s not very big though it is sterling silver. I wear it but twice a year, Memorial Day and Veterans Day to honor those men from my old combat company, "B" Co. 1st Batl., 3rd Bgd, 7th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division. RVN, 68/69.

"Garry Owen"

Combat_Medic_Badge.jpg

My father died last August at the age of 95.

On the 20th of December 1944 his unit, the 771st Tank Battalion, was pulled out of Germany to Belgium and attached to the 84th Infantry Division to attack the Bulge from the North.  During the Bulge and subsequent combat he received 3 Bronze Stars and the Purple Heart - wounded on 1 May 1945 just a week to the day before the war ended.

Dad was a combat medic and, of all his possessions, his most prized was his Combat Medic Badge.

A Great War, fought by Great men, your dad being one of them.

Combat Medics motto:  "Conserve the fighting strength."

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Cooter Brown
I've been somewhat reluctant to post this. As you age some things take on a great deal more worth. I've told my wife should the house ever catch fire forget my guns and other so called treasures I've acquired over the years; grab my Combat Medic Badge.

I consider it to be my most valuable possession. It';s not very big though it is sterling silver. I wear it but twice a year, Memorial Day and Veterans Day to honor those men from my old combat company, "B" Co. 1st Batl., 3rd Bgd, 7th Cavalry, 1st Cavalry Division. RVN, 68/69.

"Garry Owen"

Combat_Medic_Badge.jpg

My father died last August at the age of 95.

On the 20th of December 1944 his unit, the 771st Tank Battalion, was pulled out of Germany to Belgium and attached to the 84th Infantry Division to attack the Bulge from the North.  During the Bulge and subsequent combat he received 3 Bronze Stars and the Purple Heart - wounded on 1 May 1945 just a week to the day before the war ended.

Dad was a combat medic and, of all his possessions, his most prized was his Combat Medic Badge.

A Great War, fought by Great men, your dad being one of them.

Combat Medics motto:  "Conserve the fighting strength."

Amen.

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Flairball

Funny, but one of my most prized possessions is not something I'd go back in for if the house was on fire, but rather something I wear at every fire I go to; my fire helmet. One's helmet tells a story, and the way the leather buckles and bends is a result of every fire it has been in. It's the only piece of equipment from the job I intend to turn into memorabilia.

I've also got a photo collection of dogs and hunting experiences I'd rather not lose.

And the rack from the first/only buck I've taken with a bow. It's not huge, but it sure is pretty.

I'd rather not have to part with the piano. I don't play, but love listening to my wife play.

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insanelupus

I have many favorite "things", most of which are due to the circumstances in which I acquired them, or the individual and their memory associated with them.

But most treasured, it's a tie between scads of photos (digital and hard copy) and two small cigar boxes.  Please, allow me to explain.

Several years ago, a friend of mine passed.  At his funeral were photos taken of he and I by my wife, really the only photos of him taken for years.  I used to think all her picture taking was silly.  I understand now, the wisdom she had in capturing a moment in time forever, a memory that burns, and though the moment is a vapor, that small portion of a second is captured in time.  It brings smiles through heartache and tears, it renews laughter in times of sorrow, and it warms the heart and mind in times of need.  It permits sweet memories and triggers the other senses.  Who can't look at a dog, soaked with rain in the front of a pickup truck and instantly know that odor?  Or hear the boom of a friends voice in a photo caught of them belting their version of an operetta?  Perhaps more importantly, it is the easiest and simplest way to turn back time and remember a moment in vivid detail.

The other two cigar boxes are even more precious.  When my girls were born, I bought a box of cigars, the last I ever smoked (and I was not much of a cigar smoker before hand).  Each daughter has her own box, inside those boxes are items many would toss.  The shotgun shell and feather of a turkey I never brought home and my oldest daughter asked where the turkey was.  The bottlecap to a bottle of cherry cream soda, the first I ever shared with my youngest daughter in front of an office store on our first daddy-daughter date.  Rings made from silverware/napkin binders, a band from the cigar I smoked in their honor when they were safe and sound home from the hospital, a sweet note meant just for daddy, a rodeo ticket with my oldest because her baby sister was too young to go with us, a movie stub from the first movie they ever sat through, a homemade necklace, the first dandelion gifted to me, a leaf brought home because it was pretty, the list goes on.  There are even a few things I don't remember already, but I don't mind even that.  I can tell you this, each and every item in that box is a memory that made me smile, made me glow in pride and love as I placed it in the that box, and I know if there is something in each girls box, it represents a specific memory between her and I.

These boxes will someday be wedding gifts, given in love, with tears in my eyes as I hug my little girl.  And I will explain to her that each and every item in that box is a shared memory, each and every item was a precious gift to her daddy, and no matter where she goes, the memories packed in that little box exceeds any monetary value any person could ever place before me.  When they look at those boxes, I want them to hear the words they have heard from me from the time they were tiny, something I try to tell them at least every day, sometimes more, "Don't you ever forget how much Mommy, Daddy, and Jesus love you."

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