May 16, 2017 03:48 AM
I took a little trip this weekend and somehow I always manage to get myself into some sort of trouble.
Along the way, I stopped at an estate sale. There was this strange looking device that said [BEAVER safe protector-bank type]. I turned it over and there was a glass vial filled with liquid. The estate company asked me if I knew what it was because they couldn't figure it out. I was curious, so I bought it, along with a few other tools. I put them in the back floorboard, but the tools were banging against it as I drove. I was concerned that it may break so I put it in the seat. I started wondering what it was and what the purpose of the liquid was for. So, I pulled over, googled it, and found this article.
A Safecracker’s Nightmare
And then I found this little section in this book.
I thought, oh, shit! I don’t want this thing in my car. What if I got into an accident? I called the local sheriff’s office, told him what had happened, and asked him what I should do with it. He advised me to take it to a nearby fire station. He said he would call ahead and tell them that I was coming. They were waiting out front for me when I got there. One of them had dug a hole in a snow bank in their parking lot and he put in there.
Feeling a little relieved, I drove an hour or so north when I got a call from a hazmat agent. She said that she was going to have to charge me for the disposal. It would be four to five thousand dollars. And here I thought I was preforming a public service. I said, "Oh, hell, no! I’ll come back and get it."
When I arrived, they had a bulldozer in front of the snowbank with warning tape all around it. I thought it was highly irresponsible for them to return it to me, but I wasn’t about to pay the five thousand dollars. She gave me some packing material to put around it. I was a little pissed. So, I just gave her a dirty look and said, "Gee, thanks."
Believe or not, I was able to get in touch with that retired bomb squad agent that was in that article. He told me that the bomb squad unit handles it their state for free, as a matter of public safety. He couldn't believe that they wanted to charge me for it. He was really interested in it. He had never seen one like mine before. He collected them, after he disarmed them, of course. He said that I could disable it by purchasing a kiddie pool, filling it with chlorine, and rigging up a cement block with a stick and string to break the glass, but I’d have to run like my ass was on fire. That didn’t sound like a good option to me.
As I entered another state, I called and spoke with the head agent of their bomb squad. I told him that according to my research, it was their responsibility to take care of it. He said that their motto was if it was contained to not to let the Jeannie out of the bottle. They could bury it for me, but the container would cost me fifteen hundred dollars. They refused to take it otherwise, but said that he didn’t think the hazmat crew were qualified to handle it. I couldn’t figure out what to do with the damn thing. I didn’t want to bury it myself because I was worried that someone down the line might find it. I didn’t want to shoot it because as a backpacker, you always think you’re alone out in the wilderness, but you run into other hikers quite frequently. So, I decided to sleep on it.
The next morning, I went to a museum. They had old safes. I asked them if they’d be interested in it. He said no, but he knew someone who collected oddities that might be. I met with him and this guy really wanted it. He was even willing to pay me for it. I didn’t want to sell it because it’s illegal to sell or transport. I had to transport it, though. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I just wanted to get rid of it, so I just gave it to him. He owned a museum and had an antique shop. He assured me that he’d take good care of it and promised to be morally responsible.
I called the estate company back, told them what it was, and how much trouble it had caused me. He was very apologetic and offered me my five bucks back. I told him that I didn’t care about the money. I just thought he’d be interested in knowing what it was.
Here’s a couple of pictures of it. Mine was the round red one.
Safe Protector
Safe Protector
Damn! I really-really need to curb my curiosity.
Along the way, I stopped at an estate sale. There was this strange looking device that said [BEAVER safe protector-bank type]. I turned it over and there was a glass vial filled with liquid. The estate company asked me if I knew what it was because they couldn't figure it out. I was curious, so I bought it, along with a few other tools. I put them in the back floorboard, but the tools were banging against it as I drove. I was concerned that it may break so I put it in the seat. I started wondering what it was and what the purpose of the liquid was for. So, I pulled over, googled it, and found this article.
A Safecracker’s Nightmare
And then I found this little section in this book.
I thought, oh, shit! I don’t want this thing in my car. What if I got into an accident? I called the local sheriff’s office, told him what had happened, and asked him what I should do with it. He advised me to take it to a nearby fire station. He said he would call ahead and tell them that I was coming. They were waiting out front for me when I got there. One of them had dug a hole in a snow bank in their parking lot and he put in there.
Feeling a little relieved, I drove an hour or so north when I got a call from a hazmat agent. She said that she was going to have to charge me for the disposal. It would be four to five thousand dollars. And here I thought I was preforming a public service. I said, "Oh, hell, no! I’ll come back and get it."
When I arrived, they had a bulldozer in front of the snowbank with warning tape all around it. I thought it was highly irresponsible for them to return it to me, but I wasn’t about to pay the five thousand dollars. She gave me some packing material to put around it. I was a little pissed. So, I just gave her a dirty look and said, "Gee, thanks."
Believe or not, I was able to get in touch with that retired bomb squad agent that was in that article. He told me that the bomb squad unit handles it their state for free, as a matter of public safety. He couldn't believe that they wanted to charge me for it. He was really interested in it. He had never seen one like mine before. He collected them, after he disarmed them, of course. He said that I could disable it by purchasing a kiddie pool, filling it with chlorine, and rigging up a cement block with a stick and string to break the glass, but I’d have to run like my ass was on fire. That didn’t sound like a good option to me.
As I entered another state, I called and spoke with the head agent of their bomb squad. I told him that according to my research, it was their responsibility to take care of it. He said that their motto was if it was contained to not to let the Jeannie out of the bottle. They could bury it for me, but the container would cost me fifteen hundred dollars. They refused to take it otherwise, but said that he didn’t think the hazmat crew were qualified to handle it. I couldn’t figure out what to do with the damn thing. I didn’t want to bury it myself because I was worried that someone down the line might find it. I didn’t want to shoot it because as a backpacker, you always think you’re alone out in the wilderness, but you run into other hikers quite frequently. So, I decided to sleep on it.
The next morning, I went to a museum. They had old safes. I asked them if they’d be interested in it. He said no, but he knew someone who collected oddities that might be. I met with him and this guy really wanted it. He was even willing to pay me for it. I didn’t want to sell it because it’s illegal to sell or transport. I had to transport it, though. I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I just wanted to get rid of it, so I just gave it to him. He owned a museum and had an antique shop. He assured me that he’d take good care of it and promised to be morally responsible.
I called the estate company back, told them what it was, and how much trouble it had caused me. He was very apologetic and offered me my five bucks back. I told him that I didn’t care about the money. I just thought he’d be interested in knowing what it was.
Here’s a couple of pictures of it. Mine was the round red one.
Safe Protector
Safe Protector
Damn! I really-really need to curb my curiosity.
