Page 6 University Daily Kansan, April 20, 1902
Spare time
Marion and Caude Holeman, Topeka, show off their wares ai Quantrill's Flea Market, 811 New Hampshire. Quantrill's, which is open on Saturdays and Sundays, contains many antiques and collectibles.
Collectors, peddlers blend at Quantrill's
You must watch your step as you walk through the doors of Quantrell's Flea Market, 811 New Hampshire.
Not only does a sign caution you to do so, but the diversity found within is enough to pull the unsuspecting eye, and body, in several directions at once.
It is eclectic.
It's eclectic.
Like a basement full of things the owner just can draw on, the flea market is a showcase of one man's junk—and another man's treasures.
"People walk in with an expression like they've just fallen into heaven," said Marian Holeman, one-half of a husband-wife selling team from Topeka.
It was Saturday morning, the first day of a working weekend for the Bolemans and the other staff members.
For the first-timer, the flea market can be a magician's bag of merchandise.
Dr. Pepper clocks, refugees from drug-troubles to hang near one ventures area, some tikking here.
Baby dolls with shiny, roxy cheeks share a shell with a painted lady dressed in red and white.
Kerosee lamps, curtain tails-backs circa 1910 and issues of the Ladies Home Journal from 1935 share flea market space with used stained glass windows.
Much of the merchandise is recognizable even to the new flea market-goer.
"In here you hear a lot of 'My grandmother bad one of those'," Claude Holeman said.
Holeman said he could categorize customers by variations of the grandmother comment.
"You can put them in age groups by what they say," he grinned. "They'll either say my great-grandmother, my grandmother or my mother had one of those."
Many of the customers are young.
"They collect very different things," said Jerry Jones, a Quantrill's seller from Shawnee, Ks.
She pointed to her 8-year-old granddaughter as an example of how young collectors can be.
"She goes around to the booths looking at purses and jewelry," Jones said of Kathy Pleekowski, Overland Park.
Humprey has in his possession 10,000 comic books and numerous baseball cards.
Children frequent Max Humphrey's stall also,
but the attention there is a hit more obvious.
"Most of my business, especially in comics, are University of Kansas students," the ten-year
"A lot of local kids come in for the baseball cards."
Boxes of Conan, Titans, Incredible Hulk, Fantastic Four, and Captain America comics hold 6,000 of Humphreys comics alone.
Some of the younger customers are married couples looking for inexpensive, yet decorative furniture.
"It's fascinating." Leota Thompson, Quantrill manager, said.
"We get people from students, to young marriages, to the older generation."
Many of the market perusers are repeat customers, Thompson, said.
"They come back primarily because they are collectors," Claude Holeman said. "You ask them if they need help and they say, 'No, it hasn't hit me yet.'"
"They know what they're after."
Jules Hannon, Lawrence sophomore and Chris Gatts, Lawrence freshman, knew what they were doing.
"I'm looking for a little table," said Gates. He said he was in the process of furnishing an apartment.
Hanson said that neither one of them collected specific items, but said she had noticed that the same people frequented the flea market every weekend.
"I like the antiques, but have a lack of funds to collect," she said.
But even for those who have the funds to collect tea leaf ironstone, old campaign buttons, vintage license plates and other small issues, the end of the road isn't really the end of flea marketing.
They just change places—from in front of the display cases to behind them.
"An old collector never dies," Claude Holerman said.
"They just become peddlers."
Susanna Puckett, Lawrence graduate student, examines an old copy of Esquire magazine at Max Humphrey's booth at Quantrill's Flea Market.
Tidbits of trinkets and treasures are displayed at one of the many booths at Quantrill's.
Jerry Jones, Shawnee, travels weekly to Quantrill's to peddle her memorabelin.
Story by: Lisa Gutierrez
Photos by: Scott Hooker