Great stories all. I can only add that mine came some years ago, as I was cleaning out my parents' basement after my mother's death. Some of the last items I dug out to throw away included a hoard of ancient cigar boxes that my old man had apparently hidden back behind the musty, spiderwebbed lower shelves. I didn't really want to open any of them, maybe fearing what might be lurking there, but couldn't resist a moldy Garcia ' Vega box because it had been my father's preferred brand. Inside the box, which likely hadn't seen daylight in more than 50 years, under a random assortment of strange trinkets, was a pack of 1950 Callahan HOFers in the original, but very yellowed, package. I knew right off that it had to have been from the only trip we took to Cooperstown back in the early '50's. I have always retained nostalgic memories of that trip as one of the few things my dad took time out to enjoy with me when I was a kid, and finding that pack of cards was probably the most emotional impact that my parents passing had on me back in the 1990's.
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