The other day I was thinking about dealers I knew when I became UACC President in 1968, especially those who are no longer with us.

I first thought of Dr. Milton Kronovet, a respected chiropractor and autograph dealer who lived not far from me in Brooklyn, about a mile from where the Dodgers used to play. One great story comes to mind. I would drive Dr. Kronovet to Charles Hamilton autograph auctions in Manhattan, picking him up at his Ocean Avenue apartment. During one auction, Harvey Fondiller, Hamilton's public relations man, came by where I was sitting and told me that Mr. Hamilton would like me to come to his apartment after the auction for an after-auction gathering (hors d'oeuvres, drinks, etc.). I had never been invited to one. Dr. Kronovet was sitting next to me, but Harvey had spoken quietly. I asked him if Dr. Kronovet was also invited and he said "no."  I told him that I drive Dr. Kronovet home and if he was not invited, I couldn't go either. Harvey said he'd be right back. A few minutes later, he returned and told me that Dr. Kronovet could come too. After Harvey walked away, I told Dr. Kronovet that we'd been invited to Charles Hamilton's apartment for a get-together after the auction. He seemed pleased. All I remember from the "after-auction-party" was that the food was good, Hamilton's lovely wife Diane was an excellent hostess, and that I sat at a table with a small plate of food, eating with a fork. Bud, as Charles Hamilton asked his close friends to call him, came over to me and asked me if I was having a good time. I told him I was, which was true. Then he asked me to look at the monogram on the silverware. I looked at the fork and it was "AH." I thought for a moment, and being a student of history, especially American history, I said "Alexander Hamilton?" He shook his head and then I remembered one of Bud's specialties. With no smile, looking right into his eyes, I slowly mouthed and softly said "Adolf Hitler?" Hamilton nodded. I put down the fork and ate hors d'oeuvres with my fingers for the rest of the evening. I don't remember when we left, probably around midnight - I had to teach my 5^th (6^th?) grade class the next morning. As we crossed from Manhattan into Brooklyn, Dr. Kronovet turned to me and said, "See? Stick with me and you get invited to Hamilton's apartment!" I never told him.

Hamilton's auctions and teaching bring back a sad moment. I just learned a few weeks ago of the death this past December of autograph dealer David Schulson. He was also a teacher. I was lucky because my principals always gave me bright, mostly well-behaved classes to teach. With my knowledge of history, and my natural talent as a storyteller, my students were never bored. The number one complaint of parents of a bright child are "my child is bored in school." Never happened in my class. David, on the other hand, at times taught much older children in their early teens who were not exactly good students or well-behaved on trips. We would meet each other at Hamilton auctions and talk about autographs as was common among dealers at such gatherings. School never came up at those Thursday night auctions. On one of those Fridays after a sale, I had a class field trip scheduled for the South Street Seaport in lower Manhattan. As my class and I were walking near the 19^th century ships, I spotted David with his class. He looked at my children, then at his children and just smiled. Mine were basically in two lines following me. His were in a group sort of following David. He saw two boys who seemed to be wandering off, called their names, and they both rejoined his class. I forget which one of us said it, but we both agreed that we have to make a living if we want to have fun being autograph dealers. Other than talking with David at autograph shows and book fairs, we didn't see each other often. I only have good memories of David Schulson, teacher, historian, autograph dealer, and friend.

Charles Hamilton created the words "philography" (fi-log'-ruh-fee) and "philographer" (fi-log'-ruh-fer). Philography, from the Greek philos (loving) and graphos (written), is the hobby of autograph collecting. A philographer is an autograph collector. When I asked him why not a philographist like philatelist (stamp collector) and numismatist (coin collector), he replied, "that's why."

Here's my attempt at creating new words:  "Koschalism" (koh'-shuh-liz'-uhm) and "Koschalist" (koh'-shuh-list).

Koschalism.  1. The practice of making accusations or unfair allegations unsupported by proof.  2. The practice of publicizing accusations with no regard to evidence.  3. The practice of fabricating quotations in support of unfounded accusations.  4. The use of unnamed sources as the basis for attacks on reputable persons and/or organizations. 5. The practice of manufacturing evidence where none exists.

Koschalist.  1. An advocate of Koschalism.  2. A member of a group that advocates Koschalism.  3. Any organization inviting an advocate of Koschalism to be a member or to participate in an event sponsored by said organization.  4. Any website promoting Koschalism such as www.autographalert.com