In the end, the remnants of Vladmar Gavrilovic`s beautiful basem*nt grotto-”my dream,” he said, ”like something you`d never seen in your life”-fetched a lousy $20.
Included in the deal were not only the 15 buckets of rocks Gavrilovic had used to construct a suburban, subterranean cave, but also an oversized beach ball, a rake, a shovel, a dolly, a weed trimmer, an empty aquarium and fragments of a tabletop model train set.
Those who looked over the lot before bidding began made cool and disparaging comments concerning rocks in the head, rocky financial times and rock-bottom prices.
Then someone opened with $5.
Gavrilovic`s abandoned treasures sat in one of 12 self-storage sheds that were opened up, inspected and sold at auction Wednesday morning in Oakbrook Terrace. Those who owned the property in the sheds had fallen behind on their rental payments to the storage company and failed to respond to final warnings and legal notices.
So they lost it all. Everything from stereos and televisions to the buckets of rocks went on the block for 40 or so curious buyers who turned out to play what amounts to a downscale version of ”Let`s Make a Deal.”
The auctioneer, William Burgener, led the crowd down the first, long outdoor corridor and stopped at Door No. 1-actually B-204.
”No warranties are expressed or implied,” he announced before opening the orange rolling gate. ”Your bid is for the entire contents of the shed.” ”Maybe there`s a body in there,” joked Tom Zver of Bensenville, who was attending his first storage auction.
But inside B-204 was a band saw, a drill press, small containers of nuts and bolts, numerous unopened boxes and, behind what you could see, who knew what. It all used to belong to an Elmhurst man who is no longer listed in the telephone directory.
The buyers could look at the array but not touch. The boxes were sealed mysteries, like those in front of which Carol Merrill used to stand. They could contain diamonds, dung or, theoretically, a year`s supply of Eskimo Pies.
”It`s all a surprise,” said Joe Bates of Aurora, a factory worker and part-time antique seller who said he goes to around 80 such auctions a year.
”I`ve been lucky. I got three Oriental rugs once, and a porcelain figurine worth $250. You can pick up some good money if you do this right.”
One legend has it that a man once turned up a $55,000 oil painting in the musty reaches of a storage shed he bought cheaply at an auction. It`s the kind of story that keeps the faithful coming back.
Bidding on shed B-204 started at $100 and topped out at $325.
”It`s always a gamble,” said Bob Trimble, the winning bidder.
”Sometimes it`s gold and antiques. Sometimes it`s diapers and co*ckroaches.”
Trimble, who owns Trimble and Sons Auctioneers in Griffith, Ind., said he goes to thousands of sales a year and turns around to sell the merchandise, piece by piece, at his own Saturday night auctions.
”Forty percent of what`s in the sheds you throw away,” he said.
But you buy it, it`s yours. All buyers have to leave the storage areas broom-clean when they leave, so many showed up driving large trucks and vans, which they parked expectantly by the gates.
”I just have my Toyota Cressida,” said Linnea Frenzel of Westchester, one of only three women at the auction. She said she was a first-timer, coming more to people-watch than to scavenge. ”It`s interesting what people will buy,” she said.
Quite so. The next shed, containing an ancient air compressor, miscellaneous wood and scraps of insulation, sold for $176.
The crowd shuffled on. Public Storage Management Inc., with seven sheds-for-hire facilities in Du Page County alone, holds several auctions at each site every year. Many of the sheds, regulars say, look like C-318 did-a garage away from home.
Buyers looked at a Big Wheel, an old bicycle, a pair of crutches, snaked- up hoses, a limp soccer ball, bamboo shades, a buffer, a dinged-up desk, lawn furniture, toys and everything else in the world seemingly thrown in at random.
The effects of acquisitiveness, sentimentality and transience all converge behind the orange doors of these little sheds. Inside, locked away, are hopes, memories, plans and even mysteries.
Why would the former renters of D-589 have stored and finally abandoned an old crib, graduation pictures and several personal letters? Who was ever supposed to swing on the swing set in B-240? Did the renter of J-127 really want his hip-deep, 10 feet-by-25 feet shedful of greasy auto parts to end up sold for $25?
And those rocks?
Vladmar Gavrilovic-the only one of the dispossessed shed owners The Tribune could locate-said he put the buckets of rocks and other possessions into storage after high rents and rising utility rates compelled him to move out of a Villa Park town house and into a Mt. Prospect apartment last summer. In the town house, he said, he had constructed an elaborate basem*nt tableau that included water running down the tan rocks, a pond and flowering plants.
”It looked so beautiful,” he said. ”I still have pictures.”
His new place didn`t have room for a lot of what he owned, so Gavrilovic, 42, a house painter, rented storage space against the day he might rebuild the little paradise he had lost.
”I guess I can`t afford to pay right now,” he said resignedly.
So Dwayne Weber of Chicago, a professional auctioneer who said he travels to 50 such sales a year, ended up with the keys to Gavrilovic`s shed. He said he hopes to resell the dolly and the remnants of the train set to make back his investment.
The buckets of rocks, he said, will end up in the nearest dumpster.
”What are you going to do?” said Gavrilovic. ”I guess I can always find more rocks.”
