Honestly, I don't think the hobby would have been worse off if "Mr. Mint" had never been a part of it, had taken his act to coins or lunch boxes or some other commodity he could exploit collectors' passion for. Apparently, he could have cared less about any of it. With his briefcases full of Benjamins in every photo and interview, he undoubtedly did a lot to clue the country in on the demand for what many of them had thought was worthless ephemera, for good and for bad: more stuff coming out of attics and closets, but at higher prices. For decades, I had to look at his greedy countenance and sweating bald head first thing after walking into every major show I went to. He was never looking at the people, just what they were carrying, calling out to draw them over to his table so he could show off how fast he could peel 100s onto the table. I don't know whether he was fair as a buyer or not, but I'd guess he would have paid a penny on the dollar if he could get away with it, but hopefully was smart enough to pay well in a rising market and grab his chunk of a quick flip. I had one unfortunate personal experience, offering him a pair of HOF press pins at a fair price when those were hot. Without a word, he pushed them back across the table and turned his chair away from me. I vowed never to talk to him again, and never did. And the next dealer I offered the pins to gave me my price, didn't even quibble. I never understood how his assistants at those shows, first Steve "Exhibit Man" Reeves (whatever happened to him?), then Dave Szuba, who were friends of mine and nice guys, could stand being around him so much. They would smile and tell me about the cool deals they got to witness, and that he would throw them a bone every once in a while, let them take a deal too small for him to bother with. I didn't envy them, but did admire their intestinal fortitude.
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