As soon as I saw the name, I knew who it was. I am certain, however, had anyone mentioned my name to him over the last several decades the chances are just at about zero he remembered me from the late 1980s and early 1990s.

 

As I was reading the obituaries last week, I saw the name “John Douglas Scritchfield (Doug)” on the Burnside Funeral Home Web site. I paused as I saw the name and scanned the obituary.

 

In a flash, I remembered Doug Scritchfield. He passed away last week, on Friday, June 28 to be exact. According to his obituary, he was living in the “Boothsville area” at the time of his death. Scritchfield was born in Marion County, as well, according to the obituary.

 

For many my age, and particularly many in my social circle decades ago, his name was associated with Bridgeport. Actually, his name was associated with downtown Bridgeport.

 

This was in the pre-streetscape era of the downtown. Although far from dilapidated, the downtown was not nearly as nice as it is today. There were a handful of rundown structures, a few empty storefronts and the sidewalks and lighting were bland – particularly in comparison to the millions invested in the past two decades by the city and by property owners.

 

His obituary listed the business as Mountain Heritage. I remembered it as Mountain Heritage Coins.

 

By no means was I into collecting coins. In fact, I do not even remember how I found out about his business on Main Street situated near Center Street.

 

What I do know is why I went there. I was there because along with the coins and the other items he had to offer, Doug Scritchfield was the storefront business open daily that sold old and new sports cards. I am even more certain I was there because he had an ample supply of “NBA Hoops” cards in their first year of production.

 

When those cards came out in 1989-1990, I had picked up collecting cards on a little bit of a more serious note outside of heading to James Lopez’s (Fuzzy’s) Grocery store to get a pack of cards for whatever sport was in season with my small allowance or a few old Coke bottle to be exchanged for a deposit.

 

Several of us ended up piling up in a car and headed to Bridgeport to go to the shop where the NBA Hoops cards were. WE pulled in, and sure enough, he had plenty of them. He also had display cases of other cards. They were everywhere. By this time in my life, I had no problem talking to anyone and was asking multiple questions regarding some of the cards he had for sale.

 

We made the repeat trip regularly. I would earn money in my late teens from my part-time job, or cutting grass, and head out to get a few fresh packs. He was always kind, always nice, and always willing to answer questions.

 

Up until that time, my only interaction with people selling sports cards was at local shows. It only took a few minutes to see you not only were not going to find a deal, but any good card also that you had – and all of us had at least a couple – were often told they were “worth nothing.” Usually, that was followed by “I’ll give you a dollar to take it off your hands.”

 

Because of that, I was leery of anyone selling cards other than buying packs. I remember telling him about a few of my cards that I thought had some value and he told me to bring them out.

 

I was pleasantly surprised to see him look them over and tell me what he thought they were worth. Surprisingly, they were in the range my limited research at the time could muster and certainly more than a dollar to take it off my hands. In fact, you could offer a card to him, but I do not ever recall him asking to buy it from me. He bought some from my friends who were looking to unload a few cards, but I just got his appraisal.

 

He was the first to look at my Julius “Dr. J” Erving rookie card and my second year Elvin Hayes cards. He liked them and he showed me one of his own (I can’t remember which). To this day, I still have those cards.

 

While none of this may seem earth-shattering stuff, there is a point to this. This man, who I encountered for maybe a year, two at the most, was polite and kind to a young man. And when I saw his name, it brought back a smile to a much better time free with stress when my key worry at the moment was whether Doug Scritchfield would have enough NBA Hoops packs for me and my friend.

 

Apparently, how he treated me, and others worked. He was a Main Street presence for 30-plus years. You do not make it that long owning a small business without being good at it.

 

And you do not make it that long without being good at it and being fair. I imagine him being kind to so many kids that walked through the door in that era probably did not hurt either.

 

While he may have been being himself, it left an impression I recalled easily. An impression of kindness.

 

Not a bad legacy. Rest in Peace Doug.

 

Editor's Note: Top photo is the photo that ran with Doug Scitchfield's obituary, while the bottom photo shows the building near Center and Main Streets where Mountain Heritage Coins operated. This photo is from 2011 and is courtesy of Dick Duez. It has since been demolished and a new building has been put in its place at 106 East Main Street. Today, About You Monograms is located in the structure.