by Stacey Paretti Rase

Mandeville insurance salesman Bud Gregg made a very odd comment during our first phone conversation. “I haven’t been right since 1964,” he said, half joking. It wasn’t until I made a visit to his Mandeville home that I understood what he meant. The home looks normal enough from the street, but inside there is a treasure trove of items that date back to the early- to mid-20th century. Most of the pieces in his and wife Gwen’s collections are utilitarian: garden tools, milk mugs, razor blade banks, change dishes, nightlights, paperweights, measuring cups, napkin holders, laundry sprinklers—you name it. He is quick to point out that every item is “The real deal,” meaning that they are all in working condition and authentic.

Some pieces in Bud’s collection highlight his sensibility, such as the time punch clock he installed in his daughters’ room to keep tabs on their curfew when they were teenagers. His sense of humor shines through in other objects, such as the condom machine he hung in the hall bathroom. And his nostalgia for items reminiscent of his childhood is evident in his framed collection of Smokey the Bear memorabilia and paraphernalia featuring Howdy Doody, the Lone Ranger and Roy Rogers.

Bud estimates that 70 percent of his collected items were found during travel. A small percentage has been acquired on eBay. He admits, “The find is sometimes better than the hunt itself.” He and Gwen simply come across old items that they find interesting and begin collecting similar pieces. “We wait until we find three or more things alike and then we frame them,” says Gwen. “And if you stand around long enough, I’ll frame you,” Bud laughs, motioning to the walls of his home that are covered from floor to ceiling with hangings.

Most items that the Greggs have collected are compact enough to fit in one frame or be displayed on a single shelf—with one exception. Bud’s passion for collecting early-20th century arcade games led him to build an 1100 square-foot addition onto his home. It was in this marvelous game room that I was introduced to the item in his collection that spawned the comment from our first phone conversation: a working jukebox filled with classic records. All of the songs held inside were recorded before 1964. Bud allowed me to make a selection and soon the familiar voice of Fats Domino singing “Walking to New Orleans” filled the air, serving as background music for my grand tour of the collection.

The impressive room, which was featured on a cover of Game Room Magazine in 1996, is a feast for the eyes. At one end of the room, a bar appears as if it is frozen in the 1950s, topped with canisters dispensing items such as Clorets, cigarette papers, Salem matches, gumballs, hot peanuts, Scripto ball point pens and Alka-Seltzer. Nearby are slot machines and a football game that dates back to 1915 (a primitive version of today’s foosball tables). There is a “Shoot the Bear” game for those with marksmen skills, or a wooden glass-topped stand bearing the title “Sneak a Peek” for those who are more into the risqué. (Beyond the glass top are photos of women bearing their very shoulders—gasp! This was akin to pornography in the 1920s.) There is even a pre-cooked popcorn machine that was salvaged from the once-popular Pontchartrain Beach.

But Bud’s most valuable item in the room is one of the least recognizable. It’s a game titled “Smiling Sam the Voo Doo Man” that dispenses fortunes for a penny. It is valued at $8,500, because the “Sam” featured behind the glass is black—a sight not seen in many arcade games of its era. Given Bud’s line of work, the value of the piece raises the question: How do you insure such odd and priceless items? “That’s the single greatest claim they fear at the office!” says Bud. “But most of the people who work for me have been here and seen for themselves what I have collected. They can attest that it’s all the real deal.”