When Mom and Dad were here a couple weeks back, we spent an afternoon cruising around the city. One of the things Leigh found was a “toy museum” off Grand near the Morrison Bridge. She has been planning to take Ewan on one of their outings.

So we hit the place up, and, all I’ve got to say is, “Uh, wow, never knew about this one.”

Behind that door is the most amazing vintage toy collection I have ever seen, and, we’d bet, could rival any collection in the nation. Fascinating stuff. All in amazing shape, too.

Dolls, die-cast trucks, figurines, sets of this and that, original packages, ads, old locks, railroadiana…just tons and tons of stuff to check out.

So much history and happiness behind it all, and, oddly enough, pain. His collection also showcased the sad history behind the oppressive toys depicting African-Americans in U.S. popular culture at the turn of the century up to the ’30s or so. It’s amazing what shameful things this country produced for kids to play with back in the day, and seeing it all so neatly displayed is rather unsettling. A testament to how far we’ve come? Let’s hope so. Intense.

01. “A simple, nondescript door in Southeast Portland.”
02. “The first thing I saw when I came in.”
03. “Dad and Leigh getting down and dirty with a wealth of old toys.”
04. “Unique Art Mfg. Co., Inc.”
05. “Holds all coins.”
06. “Slow.”
07. “No Cow, No Bull.”
08. “Ross Island.”
09. “Dad: Long-Haired Freaky People.”
10. “Battleship Oregon.”
11. “Tons of old locks. So good. So much history.”
12. “Get in a little closer to those beauties.”
13. “Ink of wood.”
14. “It took everything in my power not to climb up there.”
15. “General Baggage.”
16. “Pulling our leg.”
17. “Probably 50 cases like this, filled.”
18. “Atlas Van Lines, Inc.”
19. “This old poster covered just about everything in Portland.”
20. “H. Weinhard’s City Brewery.”

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GOTTA GET ONE OF THESE FOR THE SHOP: Old globes from 1950-1959.

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I MADE A SANDWICH DISAPPEAR AT LUNCH TODAY: “Vintage magic posters and related items from the golden age of magic, 1890 - 1930.” My dad always told me a story about his dad seeing Houdini in Detroit. Man, how I’d love to go to that gig with my grandpa.