I'm a NJ Th'er who now mines for copper and brass – kinda.
For decades, I’ve been happily digging what I call Deco dumps. These are old trash dumps from, roughly, 1920 to the start of WWII, i.e. the Art Deco era. In rural areas, this era was marked by backyard dumping or, more often, regular personal visits to “town dumps.”
I began hunting Deco dumps when bottle collectors dug out most of the prized older dumps. Fortunately, those collectors shunned newer dumps, i.e. my Deco dumps.
From the get-go, I kept all kinds of collectible minutia I painstakingly dug from the many large early/mid Twentieth Century dumps, most within easy driving distance of my Jersey Shore home. I primarily targeted the likes of classic old milk bottles (high collectibles) but quickly began finding all sorts of valuable goodies, one of the oddest being old celluloid toothbrush handles in countless colors. The celluloid had replaced bone and wood handles, giving way (after WWII) to modern plastic. Turns out certain artists do amazing things with the celluloid. In one pop, I sold 100 easily-found toothbrushes for $300! Now there's an angle on scrapping you likely hadn't heard before.
But what’s this got to do with metal scrapping?
Early on in my Deco dump diving, I noticed the presence of huge amounts of copper wire, copper sheet (roofing, downspouts), huge lengths of copper piping, brass plumbing fixtures, chrome-plated automobile parts (chrome over brass), copper-loaded motors and even heavy brass bed frames.
Face it, right before WWII, the late-Industrial Revolution period brought with it something of a free-for-all use of hard metals, quite cheap at the time. No one gave a second thought to chucking it out – until the war began and recycling became mandatory.
Despite sensing the hard metal items I was digging had value, I long maintained a collecting purism. I sought more sophisticated items. And to comely ends. I found a load of fairly high-ticket items, including some sought after local-interest items, ranging from porcelain signs (a Coke sign with a local store’s name on it brought a cool $820 at auction) to a slew of assorted badges (police, fire, health department) that are one-of-a-kind items. I now have a local milk bottle collection second to none.
But it was the hike in copper prices that first got me thinking hard (metal). My first metal gathering began as something of an also-ran effort. As I collected a growing number of Deco dump favorite items, I would also throw easily-carried copper wire into my carry-home "goody bag" knapsack. I got quite good at power twisting the wire into copper logs, of sorts.
Over the weeks, I off-loaded the wire into a side yard bin at my home. It filled. Then a second can filled. Then a third.
Realizing my side yard was beginning to take on a “Sanford and Son” feel, I asked a “picker” buddy of mine to take my copper to the scrap metal dealer he frequently used.
Long story short (OK, so maybe this story isn’t that short), he later walked up and handed me a wad of money. I, at first, truly thought it was practical joke. $932! WTF? I was so stunned I gave him a 50-spot. Needless to say, I was thereafter hooked on heavy metal. That $932 became a norm. Then a minimum.
Now, I’m (proudly) a treasure hunter, bottle digger and scrapper. My digging of old Deco dumps has become more of a mining effort. I’d say fully half of the material in most Deco dumps is scrap-able. If you recycle glass, 90 percent of old dumps are reclaimable.
I've yet to include iron/steel in my pickings. Many of my prime dumps entail healthy hikes to reach. Hauling ferrous finds could be a bit much.
Anyway, I hope this offers some insights into a truly fun phase of scrapping -- with a vintage twist to it. It often entails some serious digging -- and heavy lifting; something scrappers are no stranger to.
Of course, the “You were trespassing!” folks will instinctively try to rain on such a scrapping parade but I can tell you from long experience I have never once been approached by anyone hell-bent on protecting the likes of old town dumping areas.
