When I heard the news of the closing of the antiques sales areas at Black Angus, it felt like I was losing an old friend. The old trifecta of Black Angus, Renningers and Shupps Grove joined with a host of co-ops and other shops made up the miracle mile of antiques shopping in Lancaster County. It was a place where hopes and dreams were discovered and lost in the blink of an eye. When I first went there in the 1970s, it was intimidating as all get out. The dealers were not very friendly to a 12-year-old boy and his mother. I purchased one item that turned out to be wonderful, but it was definitely not a place for a newbie kid. Fast forward to my 20s when I had a wee bit of lucre in my pocket and I could look around. My friend and colleague, Ted Wiederseim, would meet me at the markets on Sunday to do a blitz of all the areas. Neither of us were amenable to hitting the booths at 5:30, so we made it a more civilized 9 a.m. With an hour-plus drive for us coming opposite directions, it was still early on a precious weekend day. Angus was always a key spot to hit. We would hit the outside dealers under the awnings looking for the rug dealer who might have a great item at a good price or perhaps a piece of silver from the generalist that needed to be flipped. One year, when the market was soft on blanket chests, we bought several to resell. Another year, brass buckets were selling well, and we managed to find several at good prices. That was the fun of the outdoors where the picker/dealers congregated. Inside was pure eye candy as dealers put out their best wares to see. At its peak, the Sunday quality rivaled most of the regional antiques shows. Spanning from then-to-now and certainly not inclusive were Kelly Kinzle, John Bretschneider, Barry Mead, Rankin Butterbaugh, John Watson, Greg Kramer, and Josh Unruh. These were among the myriad of dealers who have set up inside Angus. It was also where, as folks jokingly called them, the Pennsylvania German mafia would gather. These were the collectors and the collector/dealers who specialized in frakturs, redware, textiles and anything painted that came from southcentral Pa. In that era, before the internet, there were more than a dozen auctions just in Lancaster County on a given Saturday. Add into that yard sales, flea markets, church sales, and you had a lot of commerce going on! The next day, early on Sunday morning, was when those same items appeared along the miracle mile at the shops. Many folks were friendly until a treasure was discovered, then it was a good natured competition to find and buy. I remember walking into Angus and spotting a pair of stoneware crocks with identical cobalt flowers on them. They were not the rarest thing in the world, but in the heady days of the 1990s when decorators looking for pretty things for their clients abounded, it was a find. I purchased the pair at retail for my own home. As I was cashing out, I watched two dealers blitz into the booth only to turn away, shaking their heads as I made payment. It was one of the few times that I made a hit, as we called a discovery. I shall miss Angus. 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 of antique treasures found in shops, co-ops and at auctions.