My wife has a secret passion for ice cream. For that matter, so do both my daughters. Stories about collecting are a passion of mine. I have long found the saga of how people come to be collectors as fascinating as the items that they collect. Some of us come to it from nature; our parents and grandparents collected. Some of us come to it from nurture; we came to know objects because we were exposed to them by others. And some of us just dont have a clue how we became collectors, but we know we are! I just finished reading a book, In Pursuit of History, on the Dietrich American Foundations collections. It was a fascinating read insofar as the guest authors traced how H. Richard Dietrich built a premier collection of Americana. Such tales are fascinating windows for collectors into different points in time when the market was strong and also when it was in its infancy. In the 1960s and 1970s, the market was still small and the prices reasonable, and then the explosive market of the 1990s saw seven figures paid for American furniture. As collectors, we share a passion for the hunt. We love looking for those treasures, and, arguably, we would do it over almost any other activities in life. I recall the story of musician Andy Williams, who purchased an antique mantle early in his musical career because he had to have it. He paid it off over time and kept it throughout his life. All of us have done that. We have stretched to acquire items and then held onto them as part of our core collection. Most of us also have the stories of the treasures that were found in the least expected of spots or at the auction when it was purchased for a real bargain. Again, part of that joy of collecting is to find that needle in a haystack when everyone else missed it. I have a lovely painting by Robert Henri that came to me at a sale when there was a pause, and it was hammered down before I think anyone realized what it was. A dear friend tells me that he has three tours of his art collection. The first is the once over lightly, usually reserved for those who come in, see the paintings and then wonder how one can live with so much art. The second tour is reserved for those who know art and thus can hear about specific works and artists in a broader art history context. The third and rarest of the tours of the collection focuses upon how each item was acquired. The latter is not a bragging tour but rather a chance to understand the hunt. A fourth tour that only happens in the collectors brain is about those items that one missed or failed to acquire. That tour is the most painful because a good collector will remember, with excruciating detail, the ones that got away. Born to collect should be the motto of Peter Seiberts family. Raised in Central Pennsylvania, Seibert has been collecting and writing about antiques for more than three decades. By day, he is a museum director and has worked in Pennsylvania, Wyoming, Virginia and New Mexico. In addition, he advises and consults with auction houses throughout the Mid-Atlantic region, particularly about American furniture and decorative arts. Seiberts writings include books on photography, American fraternal societies and paintings. He and his family are restoring a 1905 arts and crafts house filled with years worth antique treasures found in shops, co-ops and at auctions.