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With smoke and the sound of a loud buzz saw, the
Andover, Maine meteorite fell 107 years ago in 1898
narrowly missing a person by less than eight meters!
A witness, Mr. Lincoln Dressern of Andover, Maine, described the fall: "It was in intense heat when it struck a stone in the wall, grazing the stone. In its fall it passed down through the branches of an elm tree, cutting many of them off as clearly as if done by a sharp knife. I supposed at the time it was a gaseous ball of fire, and thought it exploded, but after examination I found where it imbedded itself in the earth to the depth of 2 1/2 feet. " As the most common stone meteorite type there is, an L6 chondrite, Andover could have easily flown under the radar of those collectors with an eye for more exotic classes. But for those like myself who search specifically for rare historic falls, and especially meteorites that have hit things. Even if only colliding with a tree and stone wall, the extemely low distribution of this stone, along with its 3.18kg total known weight made this crusted slice an especially welcome addition to my collection. |
The Fine Print
Meteorites are a curiosity to all, and a passion for many.
But beyond the fundamental drive to collect, what really keeps
the enthusiast excited about collecting meteorites year after
year? For most experienced collectors it may be one of
psychology. Applying self-imposed boundaries to one's collecting
practices provides continuity and direction as the physical,
financial, and time constraints authenticate the unreality of
attempting to amass one-of-everything. However, for those not
yet at the point in their collecting where personal parameters
seem necessary, the time will come just as it must for those who
surround themselves with coins, art, cars, or fossils.
This installment of the Accretion Desk is an account of what
changed with my collecting over the past few years. I think this
is a worthy topic as many seasoned meteorite collectors I talk
with express specific, often very specific, areas of
concentration upon which they now focus their collecting,
usually at the exclusion of everything else in the universe.
Others, however, still wander the cosmic wilderness dressing
their collection in the latest fashions of the marketplace. But
if one can define and enforce their own collecting constraints,
excitement and a rare pleasant stress result as organic codes
deeply buried in the fragile bonds of DNA spring to life. The
personal parameters of a collection keep the collector staring
ahead in the single-minded quest for the next specimen even
before the one just purchased arrives in the mail.
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What's not rare about this one? Bialystok, Poland fell
on October 5th, 1827, a mere decade or so before science
even accepted meteorites as stones from the stars.
Bialystok is a howardite achondrite, one of the rarest
classes, and only 4kg of material was ever recovered. Of
the 11 witnessed falls of howardites, Bialystok is the
fourth. If you look closely at the above picture, you will notice a wonderful ridgeline of once-liquid fusion crust running roughly north to south across the dark continent. A wonderful written documetary of this fall can be found in the May 1995 issue of Meteorite! Magazine. So little material of Bialystok is preserved in collections today, that this richly crusted fragment weighs more than the combine total of all the pieces in Poland! The specimen label numbered 1032/3 is from the Natural History Museum at Humboldt University in Berlin. I am told that this very piece is referenced in the "Gesamtkatalog der in der Deutschen Demokratischen Republik vorhandenen Meteorite" by Günter Hoppe, issued in Wissenschaftliche Zeitschrift der Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin, Math.-Nat. R. XXIV (1975) 4, 521pp. |
As a further disclaimer to this textual train you are about to
board, I do believe that the collecting arena today is vastly
different than that of even five years ago, and to avoid
meteorite burnout one must react accordingly. Although meteorite
collecting as a leisure activity has a history spanning 20
decades, it is the events of the most recent decade that have
engulfed the collector in a world rich with meteoric
opportunities never before imagined, and thus never before dealt
with. The main changes that powered a literal soul-searching by
the collector are obvious to any meteorite enthusiast who rode
this train of thunderstones into the new millennium. The forces
include the Internet, eBay, the hot deserts, and of course the
synergistic effect the previously mentioned three influences
have had on meteorite dealership.
The Good Old Days Are Gone
Many of us like to reminisce about the “good old days” where
a monthly mailing from one of a small handful of dealers was the
main portal through which our collections grew. We also
collected through a time devoid of hot desert specimens, and the
few rare achondrites for sale were often the same usual
suspects. As the hot desert stones began their march out of
Africa in astonishing numbers, we watched in horror or glee
(depending upon the content of your collection) as some prices
spiraled out of control through the stratosphere while others
nose-dived to pennies a gram. Individual specimen weights for
stones went from easy to mail, to requiring FOB shipping. Larger
irons, once limited to a few select locations, were now joined
by strewnfields of colossal proportions completely overwhelming
any sense of the scope or magnitude of what is or will be
available.
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At 8:00 in the morning on September 5th in the year
1854, a single stone of 1.8kg fell from the sky onto
Linum, Germany. Although an ordinary L6, the location,
date of fall, low TKW, and crusted part slice make this
an important contribution to any collection. Such a stunning German slice is made even more special since it once resided in the collection of the famous German meteorite collector Walter Zeitschel. For more information on Mr. Zeitschel, when you finish the article about Bialystok, you can also read about Zeitschel in the same May 1995 issue of Meteorite! Magazine. |
Happiness Is Not A Warm Chondrite
For some, their collecting activities were driven into
submission if not extinction by the pressures of a
collecting environment filled with an ever-growing number of
unknowns. Still others, after joining online meteorite
communities swore off the sport when the darker side of
humanity seeped into both verbal and material exchanges. And
more than a few, myself included, succumbed to the
overwhelmingly complicated maintenance of managing a
collection of tentatively named, tentatively paired,
tentatively known weights, tentatively acquired, and
tentatively classified material flooding the market.
I have spoke to many collectors who dove headfirst into hot
desert meteorites only to find their collecting resources
expired long before there was any sign of a supply shortage.
Of course there is nothing about an NWA specimen that makes
it any less valuable as a meteorite, but to a collection
without defined boundaries, NWA stones are a drug to which
one can become addicted. Then, like many addictions,
depression and confusion follow especially when the influx
of cheaper, bigger, and better looking material arrives by
the bucket load and poured onto the sale tables even before
the credit card bill comes due for recently purchased “hot
deals”. More than a few collectors who had dreams of someday
reaping the financial rewards by selling once-rare NWA
meteorites were rudely awaken by a world with a completely
contrary economic appreciation of hot desert meteorites. And
thus the soul-searching.
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More than half a century ago, less than 5kg of Monte das
Fortes, an L5 chondrite fell in Beja, Portugal. While
not as historic as other stones featured in this
article, it does carry plenty of collection importance
due to his status as a witnessed fall, the first of
Portugal's two indentified chondrites, and a TKW of only
4.8kg.
Adding one more element of collection importance to this
crusted slice of Monte das Fortes is that one corner
carries a specimen number from the famous Jim DuPont
Meteorite Collection. |
Tough Love
To be a happy meteorite collector, one must find personal
enjoyment in both the pursuit of new material and the
appreciation of the specimens already in the cabinet. Assorted
stories circulate in meteorite collecting history often
centering on the unfortunate demise of a collector. As the story
goes, when a postmortem examination was made of the collection,
it was found to be in such disarray that more than a few
once-identified specimens became and remain unknown meteorites.
Further still, it was not unusual to find unopened packages
containing meteorites, both of past and recent purchases. It
would appear in those cases that the collector was far more
interested in the hunt than the kill.
So how does one choose and employ personal collecting boundaries
designed to provide purpose and stability to meteorite
collecting, and of course enjoyment for the collector? Well,
that is for you to decide. But for me, it was a journey I needed
to take.
Like most collectors of decades past, I could comfortably
collect one-of-everything. At that time it was not hard because,
first of all, there were not all that many meteorites available
for purchase, and second, “everything” was a much smaller
concept. When the Labenne's started offering the first
mainstream hot desert stones, I was at the front of the line to
buy and trade for this paradigm shift in meteorite ownership.
The packages arrived almost monthly from France containing big
stones, rare classes, stunning breccias, and “main masses.” All
of this was possible because of the internet and email.
Pictures and descriptions flew in and out of my email box and
the specimens began to pile up. I should have learned my lesson
early when there appeared to be no bottom to the well from which
the Labenne's were pulling up specimens. But I didn't. I should
have learned my lesson when there seemed to be an unlimited
supply of the amazing and almost incomprehensibly rare EH3. But
I didn't. I should have learned my lesson when “main masses”
were sold for grams per dollar rather than the other way around.
But I didn't. I should have learned my lesson when battles over
pairings, TKWs, and discovery coordinates erupted online. But I
didn't. And I should have learned my lesson when the pieces just
kept getting bigger and cheaper. But I didn't.
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Mern, Denmark is not a name collectors come across
often. Less than 5kg of Mern fell in 1878 making it
highly desirable on my collecting radar.
Further, this specimen, as evidenced with the specimen
card pictured below, is from not only the J. M. Dupont
Meteorite Collection, but DuPont credits is acquitision
from someone named Bally and the source as BMS with
number 8242/2 exchanged completeld on October 29,
1981--over 100 years after the fall of Mern. I suspect
that BMS is the British Museum (London), but the history
of this specimen's past needs more detective work. Any
ideas out there? |
What caused the change my collecting habits? At first it was
a simple thing: with many new specimens, I had no idea what
to enter into my once-detailed collection catalog. I began
to hesitate on the purchase of a meteorite if it did not
have a name or class that could be used to organize the
piece into my collection listing. I had plenty of
hand-specimens for teaching, plenty of large individuals
sitting on shelves, and even piles of small individual
stones and irons offering a dizzying array of shapes and
features. So what was the purpose of adding more to my
collection, especially if the piece had no name or
classification? I quickly realized that for me there was no
purpose. To me, it seemed pointless to add more unclassified
material to my collection even given my liberal collecting
practices.
Like sliding down an icy mountain slope, I quickly gained
speed stretching the yardstick of “purpose” over all past
and future meteorite dealings. I immediately drew the line
on most NWA pieces essentially blocking them from my
collecting radar. Slowly I added more meteorites to my
blacklist until collecting again was more of a hunt than a
slaughter. I felt back in the game.
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In 1939, a scant 1.59kg of H5 chondrite fell on
Java, Indonesia. The meteorite named Selakopi could
possibly be paired to another Indonesian fall on the
same day and named Glanggang. But even if Selakopi
and Glangang are from the same meteorite fall, the
TKW of Glanggang at 1.3kg would still keep the
combined TKW of this event well under 3kg!
The piece of Selakopi I was able to enter into my
collection catalog is completely and thickly crusted
on one entire cornered side, and the other side,
pictured below, shows the highly contrasting
interior. |
For the briefest of moments, I thought my draconian boundaries,
would force my collecting to the point where adding a new
locality would be a rare event worthy of celebration. I was
wrong. It felt like meteorites that met my restrictive standards
were everywhere. It was just that their effective cosmic
camouflage, no doubt a key to their survival throughout recent
centuries, was found in their smaller size, obscure names,
common classifications, and of course high prices. There was
plenty of fine material to be had even when applying my rigorous
self-imposed regulations that often excluded all but 100+ year
old witnessed falls, sub-10kg total known weights, museum
numbers and documentation, or meteorites that have hit things.
Even when I lowered my desired TKW limit to 5kg, then to 1kg, I
was still able to acquire specimens for my collection.
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Historic falls from the United States are much harder to
come by today then even 10 years ago. So highly desired
by collectors that when a rare treat such as this slice
of Blackwell, Oklahoma came along, I quickly captured
the slice for my collection, and only then sat back and
savored the experience. Blackwell fell in 1906, and only a single 2.38kg stone was recovered. Blackwell, in classic meteorite stereotyping served as a doorstop for more than quarter century before being elevated to its proper stature. Further adding to the US history of this slice is fact it passed through the famous J. M. DuPont Meteorite Collection on its way to me. Even more, I belive the painted specimen number gracing the thumbprinted edge of crust on this slice is from the American Museum of Natural History in New York City. I did not see Blackwell referenced in the AMNH meteorite collection catalog, but the one I was reading was the C. A. Reed 1935 edition. Then I realized that at the time of publication, the Blackwell meteorite was still back in Oklahoma holding open a door. |
The Great Purge
I often played a game asking myself what would I keep if I
had to reduce my collection to the top 100 pieces, or even the
top 10 pieces. First I realized that the number of specimens was
not the issue, but instead whether the specimen had an
exceptional value or important place in my collection. Sure, I
could list a handful of significant pieces, but instead I want
all my meteorites to be important. Quickly I discovered that the
collection would guide its own development if I would just
listen to the specimens.
So with a wave of my hand in what I can only describe as “The
Great Purge,” I exorcized my collection of some 500 meteorites
including almost all non-falls, almost all sub-gram specimens,
and almost all recent discoveries whether falls or finds. What I
quickly learned is what most people already knew who have
disposed of a substantial numbers of specimens in a short time,
namely that the desirable pieces fly out the door, but well
distributed meteorites and hot desert stones just gather dust.
Luckily I was able to exchange many of the remaining pieces for
something I could either sell, trade, or insert into my
collection. Finally I was free of three-fourths of my entire
collection! It was a liberating experience, but one hard to
describe to collectors who measure collection stature by sheer
volume because my collection was now at about 200 locations and
falling.
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Diogenite falls are extremely hard to add to a
collection. Not only are there only 10 witnessed
diogenite falls, but of those 10, only two yielded more
than 5kg of material. And almost a third provided less
than 1000 grams, usually much less.
The Ibbenburen, Germany diogenite, pictured above, has a
2kg total known weight. Its 1870 fall date makes
Ibbenburen the third known witnessed fall of a
diogenite. Further, crust on any diogenite is always a
rare bonus. |
I Can See Trees In The Forest
As the repurposing of my collection was progressing nicely,
I stumbled into a gold mine. No, rather I found myself in a gold
minefield! Between the selling of several major meteorite
collections, and my growing reputation for purchasing and
trading for rare, expensive stones, there was still way more
material than I could ever afford. As I pondered what material I
wanted to add to my collection, I began to measure it against
what I already owned. Then I started pulling out some desirable
pieces from my collection in order to exchange them somehow for
even better, even more desirable pieces. Very quickly I purged
my collection of almost all dead weight. Except for a very few
pieces that hold special personal significance, every piece in
my collection is an important contributor being a witnessed
fall, a historic meteorite, a rare class, a type-specimen, a
very low TKW, a "hammer" (as Michael Blood likes to call them),
or in many cases, all of the above. I do still have some finds
in my collection, but at last count, the number was less than
10.
Collecting has never been so much fun for me! Each piece in my
collection has a story, a collection history, and both an
intrinsic and extrinsic value. But still, there are a surprising
number of meteorites out there in the marketplace that fit my
extremely narrow collecting parameters. Which, of course leads
me to the next level of meteorite collecting: the terminal
specimen.
End Of Days?
Back in 2002, shortly after The Meteorite Times started, I
wrote a column about the
Eagles Nest brachinite of which I owned a complete slice of
this painfully rare oriented achondrite. Few collections even
held a sample of Eagles Nest let alone a complete slice taken
from right through the middle of the single stone. At that time,
I contemplated what would constitute a “Terminal Specimen.” By
"terminal" I was asking what meteorite would effectively end the
process of collecting given that it alone was so great that its
mere ownership eclipsed the desire to collect any further. There
is no terminal specimen yet in my collection, but the thought
seems closer to home than ever before. I have also reconsidered
the concept of “Terminal” to mean more of a collection-defining
piece rather than the end-all specimen. So should a terminal
specimen enter my collection, it will not stop my acquisition of
new material, merely provide me more free time since I would not
have to keep up a vigilant search for rare meteorites anymore. I
could just wait for the wonderful specimens to find me.
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In 1942, almost exactly half a century before the famous
fall of Mbale, an L6 chondrite fell in Maziba, Uganda.
But in contrast to the hundreds of Mbale individuals
totaling over 100kg, only a single 4.975kg stone of
Maziba fell. This thick corner slice of Maziba is well covered with fresh crust, and its bright interior offers shiny metal inclusions. This specimen shows no signs of weathering as it was curated with love in the meteorite collection of Texas Christian University prior to passing through other hands before reaching me earlier this year. |
Today my collection represents about 250 locations of which over
96% are falls. Not a large number by many standards, but one I
am comfortable with. Providing much of the pleasure of meteorite
collecting for me right now is that my small collection has a
historical depth running deeper than I ever dreamed. Once again,
I feel satisfied with my collection and my collecting choices.
But this contentment did not arrive without a price, and for me,
the price was paid in the currency of years of unfocused
collecting.
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How rare is rare? While not a large piece, this
crusted corner fragment of Karewar cannot get a
whole lot bigger since only 180 grams of it fell as
a single stone in 1949. The ground must have been
soft because reports of the fall described the stone
as penetrating the ground to a depth of one meter.
This wonderful piece of Nigerian meteorite history is complete with a large chondrule visible in the cut face, and a painted collection number likely from the Kaduna Museum from where it originally came from. Nigeria is home to many famous meteorites including Uwet, Mayo Belwa, Gujba and Zagami. Four of the 14 known meteorites from Nigeria are sub-kilogram witnessed falls, and Karewar holds the Nigerian record for the smallest TKW of any of its peers! |
A Piece Of Peace.
I have always said that collecting meteorites is not for the
faint-of-heart. The science is overwhelming, the classification
system is confusing, the prices can be astronomical, and the
supply is questionable at best. But once able to surmount the
challenges of collecting meteorites, one is embraced by a rare
moment where the myths, magic and mechanics of the solar system
unite in one instant of space-time; an instant you can hold in
your hand.
