I found a rather nice diamond ring once. I handed it in at the local police station.
The take-home lesson here is next time say “Hmm…it would be kind fun to have a million dollars in non-sequential bills”.
As for me, nothing too great. I’ve found several pairs of sunglasses, one of which was actually a high-quality pair of Oakleys in good shape (the others have been cheapies).
Found the neighbor’s thrown-out stash of nudie mags (mostly Penthouse, with a couple of Hustler’s and Oui’s thrown in for horizon broadening). That made me pretty popular in 7th grade.
If the law is anything like it is here, whoever left it on the ground was Littering and it would not be considered stealing from goodwill but cleaning up litter
Years ago, my step-dad was a fairly heavy smoker, and as a fairly aware child, I realized that smoking was bad for him. One spring, as we headed into the mountains for a father/son fishing trip, I asked him pleadingly to stop smoking. He had just pulled his trusty zippo out, and had been about to strike it, when he looked at me, looked at the zippo, and smiled briefly. He then rolled down his window, and chucked the zippo out, followed by his cigarettes (littering, yes, I know, but it was a huge symbolic gesture on his part to me, and he did end up quitting smoking).
Many years later (ten? twelve?) I was walking through a field near a friend’s house, far away from the spot where my family lived and from the mountain road that my dad chucked his lighter onto…and there, in the grass and weeds, I saw a flicker of gold. I bent down and dug through the dirt…and there was my dad’s old lighter, with his name engraved on the side.
I still have it.
That’s really neat.
I haven’t found anything especially ‘neat’. Once, back in the '70s, I found a Shoei helmet my the side of the road. I used it for a number of years. Another time I was walking by Sierra Highway in Lancaster and found a Buck 110 Folding Hunter knife. I still have it, in my toolbox. As I was driving up Sepulveda in Westwood, a $20 bill flew past my windscreen. I made a u-turn and picked it up. (To maintain the balance in the universe, I had a twenty in my jacket pocket as I was riding my motorcycle on a desert road, and it flew out somewhere.)
I found a bouquet of flowers on Fifth Ave last week. I figure somebody dropped it during the parade, or somebody was pissed at their boyfriend.
I agree. My first clue to this would have been those signs that are usually posted which say something to the effect of “Do not leave items outside the box! No dumping allowed!”
On the beaches of Put-in-bay/South Bass Island, Ohio my Dad found a medium rock that was in the exact shape of a tiny foot. He took it home and used a dremmel tool to make toes and then he painted the toenails red. He also inscribed some “American Indian Hieroglyphs” into the foot.
He had a really funny and ridiculous story about it’s origin and what the pictographs meant.
I couldn’t do it justice, so I won’t ruin it.
Miss ya Dad.
A case of MREs. I was driving (well they never let me drive) my hummer though Fort Chaffee, Arkansas minding my own business when a C-130 darn near dropped the fool thing on my head.
We put it in the back of the vehicle and kept our mouths shut.
I once found $40 sitting in the bucket seat of a carnival ride. I was about 14 at the time and I was with an uber-religious friend who wanted me to turn the money into the carnival worker. No way man; if that money is going into someone’s pocket it will be MY pocket.
Another time, a few years later, I was walking down the street and found a bowling ball in a ditch. It was inscribed with the name of the local bowling alley. Two thoughts ensued. One, I could return this because I know where it came from, followed very quickly by two, I could throw this off the bridge into the Ohio River and I bet it will make a really big splash.
Rational thought took over too soon.
I was right…it did make a big splash.
Well gee, that makes taking a valuable item that was obviously intended to be donated to a charity perfectly OK then!
As a teenager, our class got some of our high school’s keys (I forget how), and found an old firing range in a basement. There were .22 casings and even a few live rounds which I scooped (probably not the safest, thinking back). We figured it must have been from the '60s; the Air Cadets (Canadian ROTC) probably used it.
Old abandoned trucks aren’t too uncommon, but they are still neat to find.