Printer Friendly Version - Tag Sale 101

My husband Paul, aka The Bike Guy, was a collector. In his childhood, he used his caddying money to collect coins. His love of geology led him to a minor in college, collecting specialized tools and exploring outcroppings in his native New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Following the footsteps of his father and grandfather before him, Paul became a mechanical engineer. Throughout his training and profession, he rescued small power tools and equipment and restored them. He had all kinds of tools for every possible purpose. Like his Uncle Harold, he was a very handy man who regarded every opportunity to fix something as a puzzle to solve. In retirement, he reclaimed, repaired, and donated bicycles to our community, adding numerous specialized bike tools to his collection.

It has been a year since Paul lost his battle with blood cancer. Our Closer to Free team, The Bike Guy Boosters, and I continue to bike in the September event as a tribute to him while supporting the lifesaving work of Smilow Cancer Center. This year, as part of my fundraising, I decided to have a tool and tag sale.

The process of grief takes work. In these months, I have worked hard to embrace my feelings, honor our continued spiritual relationship, and grow in many ways. I was ready to let go of the many tools he collected. During the many hours of sorting through everything, I kept aside special, unique items that held special memories for me of Paul puttering about fixing bikes, updating our home, and championing our joint projects in the community. After choosing a set of tools I would need for my own home maintenance and art projects, I prepared for the tool sale.

With a mask and garden gloves, I began by emptying, vacuuming, and cleaning the shed. I added some extra hooks and nails to suspend the garden tools I decided to keep. Not surprisingly, there were many duplicates. Next, I reached out to Paul’s special friends, Al and Don. These men helped me clear away mountains of “someday project” lumber and recreational supplies that Paul had reclaimed into three piles – keep, sell, discard. They set up makeshift display tables. Paul’s best friend Ken helped me choose among the many hand tools and select a set to keep and identify what to sell.

I emptied and sorted seven toolboxes into labeled bins by tool type. This allowed me to stage the table for hand tools in advance. The special worktable that Paul put on casters and that Ken helped me refurbish was laden with power towels behind the garage door. My sister Sheila and her husband Bob, who were visiting for the weekend, helped move the table out onto the driveway and arrange the rest of the items on a tarp I laid out on the lawn. All the advance prep really helped during this morning setup as anxious “early birds” waited for me to announce that I was open for business.

I knew that negotiating prices for Paul’s tools and equipment would be too much for me. I asked my friend Brendan, a carpenter who had knowledge of tools without my emotional attachment, to help by being my cashier. Brendan and I met in advance to look things over and develop an understanding about prices. I trusted him without question. We decided that price labels only added extra work. He would negotiate prices during each sale. Everything was so much easier because Brendan and my buddy Ryan, who was also on hand, offered their help and support.

My neighbors have two young boys who are blessings in my life. They agreed to host a lemonade stand during the sale. When their mom and I discussed the idea with them a few days earlier, 6-year-old Connor suggested that the lemonade and brownies be free for a donation to the hospital. How powerful it was to hear this young child embrace helping others. Along with some free tee shirts and bike jerseys, the stand was a joyful part of the Tool Sale. It reinforced the purpose of the Tool and Tag Sale–to raise funds in support of Smilow Cancer Center.

While it was a lot of work, the sale was remarkably successful. I also used the opportunity to sell other items, including some kayaks. Knowing Paul’s well-loved tools are seeing new life throughout my community gives me joy. I am so grateful for the love and support of friends and family who helped with the sale and those who came and donated in support of this worthy cause. Exhausted both physically and emotionally, I am taking some time to rest, thankful for the wonderful life I have and the community I live in.

From HGTV: Tips on how to “conquer your clutter,” the importance of cleaning items you’re selling, how to get the word out, and how to price items. www.hgtv.com/lifestyle/clean-and-organize/top-tips-for-throwing-a-successful-yard-sale
From Better Homes and Gardens: The imoprtance of setting a goal, checking out the competition, picking the best date, using inexpensive tags and stickers for prices, and some essentials to have on hand the day of the sale. www.bhg.com/decorating/storage/organization-basics/garage-sale-tips
From Realtor Magazine: How to check to see if you need a municipal permit, inviting neighbors to join in, and how to manage your money. www.nar.realtor/magazine/tools/client-education/handouts-for-sellers/how-to-hold-a-successful-garage-sale
From Real Simple: A comprehensive pricing guide. www.realsimple.com/home-organizing/organizing/garage-sale-pricing
From Good Housekeeping: “A Family Garage Sale Taught Me That It's OK to Say Goodbye to My Past. Along the way, I learned that letting go doesn't mean losing treasured memories.“ https://www.goodhousekeeping.com/home/organizing/a31246264/garage-sale-benefits

My husband Paul, aka The Bike Guy, was a collector who eventually became a mechanical engineer. Throughout his training and profession, he rescued small power tools and equipment and restored them. After he died, I decided to sell the tools to help support a cause we both supported. But that also meant dealing with the memories as well. Photo courtesy of Liz Egan

I knew that negotiating prices for Paul’s tools and equipment would be too much for me. I asked my friend Brendan, a carpenter, who had knowledge of tools without my emotional attachment, to help by being my cashier. Photo courtesy of Liz Egan