James had been a fireman in New York and had retired to a small community in North Carolina with his wife when he left work with a disability  in his fifties. For the last ten years he had bought and sold stamps, usually buying low-end, defective remainder lots at auction, culling out the better stamps, selling some things at a few local shows, and building up a very considerable stock in terms of volume. James had meticulously cataloged every stamp in his stock—this after all was his life—and he included in his total every stamp, no matter how defective and whether or not it was a forgery. His total catalog value was well over $700,000. James had typically bought uncatalogued lots, the kind that can be found at the end of our auctions and at the end of every mainstream auction. These lots are collection balances, stocks, mixtures—usually thousands of stamps that collectors like to buy because when they work them out, putting in long hours, the percentage of catalog that they work out to is usually startlingly low, often 3% or less. They get hours of fun for little money and have at least as much value when they are done as they paid and usually much more. The reason that these lots sell so low is because they contain very few stamps that any collector needs for their collection and because the minimum Scott value for a stamp is 25¢, so ten thousand stamps, even if no one could conceive of wanting any of them individually, catalogs at least $2,500.

 
James was a buyer for these lots, buying a couple thousand dollars worth a year for about ten years. He carefully worked out these lots, putting each stamp in a glassine. The numbers worked out like this: James had spent about $2,500 per year for ten years. He bought and worked out lots that had cost him 3% of catalog. So he had a group of stamps that cataloged over $700,000, and since James knew that some better sets and singles sold at auction for up to half catalog, he thought that the stock that he paid $25,000 for was worth $350,000. To be fair to James, though, he was a realist. He knew that dealers need to make money. So he was willing to part with his stock for 80% of the $350,000 or only $275,000.
 
I knew James and had helped him when he wanted to buy stamps. Further, he knew that I knew what he had bought and what he had paid and what it must be really worth. So when it came time to sell, he thankfully didn't contact me. I don't think James had any illusions about his stamps. He wasn't one of those philatelic alchemists who buy lead, and as soon as it is in their collections believe that it has turned into gold. He knew what he had, and he was just trying to see if he could entice a stupid buyer into paying too much for his stamps. But though there are many wealthy people in the world, and many stupid people in the world, there don't seem to be many wealthy, stupid people; at least not for long. James' attempts to sell his stamps failed.
 
A few years later, James died, and after a bit, I was contacted by Mrs. James and several of the younger James's. They told me that their husband/father died and that they had his stamps which he had told them were worth $275,000. I wished them luck with its sale. If we only saw this once in a great while, it wouldn't be too bad. The single greatest characteristic that good husbands and fathers share is honesty. Fool yourself if you wish, but to set your family up for the kind of disappointment and betrayal that James set his up for is unconscionable. Though it is emotionally hard for many collectors to do this (and sometimes ill health creeps up so quickly that there is no time), collectors do themselves and especially their families a great service by liquidating their stamps while they are still alive and able to do so. You made the collection; you know the reputable buyers to call, and you are able to assess and negotiate a fair price. You wouldn't leave your business or your practice for your family to sell after you are gone. You shouldn't leave your stamps either.