Dayton Beneficiaries Receive Unexpected Inheritance

Examples of items from the hoard include decades-old K-Mart model cement that may
be priced in Confederate dollars and an ancient coupon for a long-defunct brand of soap.

DAYTON, AL—When the Black Belt’s oldest living resident, Mrs. Verna Pinson Penson died last month at the age of 113, she left behind a bewildering, if ultimately worthless, collection of hoarded refuse for her descendents. Within Penson’s modest Victorian cottage, her heirs, including children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and great-great-grandchildren, were amazed to find every drawer, cabinet, and even chair cushions bursting at the seams with items today’s wasteful young folks would consider garbage. The most common items included bread bags, scraps of used aluminum foil, plastic rings from the lids of milk jugs, and long-expired coupons for canned peas and frozen pie shells.

While the utility of saving some of the items eluded younger generations of Mrs. Penson’s descendants, her son and next-door neighbor, Eustace Pinson Penson, aged 93 explained, “Her mother told her about the blockade and Reconstruction, and she lived through the Great Depression and two World Wars. Of course, so did I.” Mr. Penson further explained, “All of this supposed garbage could be used again. Those bread bags could be used to store leftovers, or as booties or a hat to keep out rain. Sometimes the Piggly Wiggly girl doesn’t look, and she’ll take an expired coupon. It’s a small victory.” All descendants were clueless, however, as to the purpose of saving milk jug rings.

Penson’s grandchildren were decidedly less understanding. Linda Penson Cortez, a 61 year-old Sedona, AZ resident, found her grandmother’s behavior exhausting. “She once came behind me and took a hunk of moldy cheese and pile of potato peels I was throwing away out of the garbage, saying she would eat them later.” Nearby family members nodded in assent, since few of them could suppress the haunting memories of that fateful 1995 Thanksgiving when Mrs. Penson gave half her family food poisoning after serving an inadequately reheated, half eaten turkey leftover from the previous year’s meal and then refused to allow any family members to seek medical treatment, instead foisting expired pink bismuth down their throats.

The younger generations of the Penson family reacted to the collection with amusement, astonishment, and horror. “I mean, some of this stuff is old. I think some of these prices are actually in Confederate dollars,” noted great-great-granddaughter Elyse Cortez, a history student at Radford College. Since she has never lived in and seldom visited the area, Miss Cortez is likely unaware that the Black Belt was slow to accept that Alabama had in fact rejoined the Union, and Confederate dollars were considered legal tender in Marengo County until their value collapsed when President Richard M. Nixon abolished the American gold standard in 1971.

Family members are expected to remain in Dayton until the house is emptied of trash. Provided they can sustain 12-hour work days, the task should be completed in roughly 10 days. The final destination of the Mrs. Penson’s hoard is currently being kept a secret, primarily to prevent Eustace from scavenging the materials.