Village Squire, 1973-09, Page 4Selling Antiques for fun and profit
4 VILLAGE SQUIRE/SEPTEMBER 1973
Most of us, one time or another,
have been in an antique shop. You
know the kind of place: small, tidily
untidy, with a warm atmosphere and
high prices. The owner tries to give
the idea the place is packed with
merchandise.
Carry that kind of stereotype with
you when you first visit Harrison's
Stonehouse Antiques and you're in
for a shock.
As you enter the little farm on
highway 8 between Clinton and
Seaforth (about three miles from
the former) the atmosphere is right.
It may be in the country, not in
town, but the early Huron County
farmhouse gives the antiquey feeling.
But there all similarity stops.
For the antiques aren't in the house
at all but in a barn out back on the
six acre farm. You enter the door
of the barn and you get something
of the humour of Jack Harrison for
there hangs an old pair of crutches
with a sign beside them "used for
Wounded Knee".
And inside you are in for a shock.
Antique shops are supposed to be a
little cluttered, but this is ridiculous.
Old furniture, clocks, crocks and
glassware are stacked everywhere,
filling the immense inside of the shed
almost to the roof. You can wander •
around and find almost anything.
For this is no ordinary antique shop.
In fact, Mr. Harrison says, he doesn't
sell antiques at all. He estimates
that less than 10 per cent of his stock
can really be classed as antiques. He
calls it instead "decor", old furniture
from 40 to 60 years old.
You'll find it full, that is, if you
didn't visit during the rail strike
earlier this month. Compared to its
normal cluttered self, the barn see -
me d almost empty when Mr. Harrison
chatted quietly recently. Still, he
estimated, there was $10,000 worth
of stock in the barn and three cont-
ainers full of new old furniture on the
way.
Most of the supply comes from his
son Jim who is in Europe. He buys
the furniture and glassware in Europe
then packs it in huge containers for
shipping home. But during the rail
strike the containers got no closer
to Clinton than the dockyard in Tor-
onto. The strike was over far more
than a week and Mr. Harrison was
still waiting impatiently for the
containers to arrive so he could refill
the barn
Less than two years ago, this barn
wasn't even there. Then the house was