Aunt Mamie Says Hello, Posted on Monday, November 24, 2025

One of the great things about living in an old house is, of course, the attic. The attic is the place where families store things they no longer use, but which are too precious to discard.

When I was about six years old, my family moved from a tidy tract home to a Victorian monstrosity across town in the old section of our town in New Jersey.

I was not in favor of moving but our family had outgrown our old place, which we referred to as The Little House. And it was just that, little. Too little for my parents, my two brothers, my grandfather, and our collie dog, Roscoe. We called the new place 19 Maple as that was the address.

19 Maple had a lot of advantages, as least as far as my parents were concerned. It had four bedrooms, and it was within walking distance of my father’s job in the City Hall. The train station, library, and movie theater were conveniently located right down the street. Everything we needed was within walking distance, or just a bike-ride away. It really was a great place to spend my childhood.

I will never forget my first look at what turned out to be my family’s home for the next thirty-six years. The place seemed enormous, and it was. It was almost 3000 square feet with a full basement and attic.

And what an attic it was! It had a solid floor, was divided into rooms, and had electricity. We could have rented it out but for the fact that there was no bathroom, something future owners probably remedied. But I digress.

 The day we visited, a bright sunshiny day in August, I noticed a traveling trunk located in a corner of the attic.  I wanted to open it but my mother claimed it was locked. She was probably concerned that my brothers and I would take turns climbing into it and get stuck.

I never found out what was stored in that trunk; it was gone by the time we moved in. Even today, I can’t help wondering what amazing things might have been stored there by the people who had lived there before us.

We have a trunk just like the one I saw in my attic here at the Scott Family Collection. It sat in the attic of the Scott home place for decades, accepting all manner of treasure, stored there lovingly by Mamie White Scott, who died in 1953 at the age of 88.

Mamie is one of my heroes. She understood perfectly that someday, the flotsam and jetsam of everyday life would be of great interest to people not yet born. A way for us to peer into the past and see how people in her day lived their lives. I can picture her placing yet another treasure in the trunk and then smiling, wondering who would find it years later.

A lot of the things Mamie stored so carefully in her attic trunk are now on display at the Scott Family Collection. We are open Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, from 8 AM to 4 PM.

The past is beckoning; what are you waiting for? Oh, and by the way, Mamie says hello.