Growing up our yearly pilgrimage to the Shipshewana Flea Market was a much anticipated summer tradition. Up and out the door early, we’d use the hour and a half car ride to plot our wish list. As kids our wishes mostly ran toward, what I know now to be, cheaply imported goods. We didn’t come across a $3 or $4 T-shirt proudly displaying a logo that we didn’t like. We were also embarrassingly fond of scrunchies and all other manner of hair accessory. On the practical side we might even have picked out a new backpack for the upcoming school year.
While there were certainly a fair number of these types of booths they were greatly outnumbered by what you’d traditionally find at a flea market. Many booths were dedicated to selling what was one man’s junk to those who could see the treasure. You could find old windows, vintage plates, glassware, Pyrex, old signage, books, tools, and the list goes on and on.