We need to know, even if we don’t like it

Auctions are a window on human experience. Strong feelings fade with time. When we accept what happened, we tend to wax philosophical, it wasn’t us, the world was different. Auction lots have long been barimeters of acceptance. Are there any who refuse to offer American Revolutionary War material today? No. They hope to have it.

The American black experience has never been resolved. Walking through old cemeteries, the graves of our black citizens are rarely found. The old graves were for remembering white people. Blacks, both slave and free, did find resting places, but did not receive the dignity of a marker. Their material once ignored, is prized today.

I grew up in a small town that was a swirl of prejudices and opinions. Because our county had a deep Italian footprint, you might have thought there was deep resentment about Italy’s WWII role in the axis. It was never spoken of because, when the war was declared, the Italian community immediately volunteered to fight Mussolini.

Our gay citizens could find peace but not acknowledgement. Today, partners find peace together.

Bit by bit our hearts and minds have been accepting who we are.

Recently, America’s social media has been heaving with shock as Nazi memorabilia has been entering auction rooms. Enraged, their cumulative online voice is calling auction houses to yield to their demands to censor such listings by campaigning against their listing services.

We find Nazi schlock beyond repugnant but when this material is posted, all parties should have the right to know about it. Over the decades we’ll better understand how the market responds. If there is no interest, it will disappear.

Virtually every aspect of the human experience is encompassed in the 15 million auction records we hold in trust for humanity. How Nazi memorabilia does, when and where it's offered, it will continue to be part of the history of collectible paper at auction. We cannot pretend it doesn.'t exist.

It may take time, just as it took time to accept the many social changes reflected in my home town’s primary cemetery.