There are many letters to/from Kunz in the National Archives and Records Administration (NARA) at College Park, MD. Some of these are quoted in my book Renaissance of American Coinage 1905-1908, but there are others. These, plus the offered letters plus others in the ANS files and the Smithsonian archives reveal the extent of Kunz' involvement in the 1906-1908 Saint-Gaudens coinage and US coinage in general.

Kunz' name was once used as a threat to the Philadelphia Mint: if the Mint delayed issuing the Saint-Gaudens' $10 and $20, President Roosevelt proposed to send Kunz and a few others to the Mint to supervise the work.

Another great issue of The E-Sylum, but I have to point out a small error. In the story about Professor Wittig's Nobel Medal being sold you stated that it was presented in 1972. The engraving on the medal reads 1979 in Roman numerals, so that's the more likely date of presentation.

Another thing that caught my attention is the story about the NNP adding Sample Slab News to its library. There was mention of a chocolate Franklin Half Dollar slab put out by PCGS. It's possible that company may have created such an item, but it may also be that someone is confusing it with the one NGC produced in the early 1990s.

When I joined that company in '94 we were giving out these chocolate slabs at coin shows. Each was a full size replica of an early NGC holder made entirely of chocolate and covered in gold-colored foil. Molded into it was the image of a Franklin Half Dollar dated 1953, as I recall. These were already old at the time, a discovery I made when attempting to "sample" the sample. It was more than a bit stale.

There have been numerous installments in E-Sylum giving the history of Young Numismatists of America.

I was a member during my high school years, the first half of the 1960s. It had been started by a young man who lived in Flushing NY. He issued a newsletter and I wrote the coin quiz for it. Unfortunately, I cannot remember his name. But organizations with that name go back farther than I have seen mentioned.

Fearing the discussion of a Roman coin in Japan would soon be explained by the intercession of extraterrestrials, I thought I might suggest a more prosaic explanation.

People interested in this unusual find should read Barry Cunliffe's "By Steppe, Desert, and Ocean", which explains the origins, development and operation of the Silk Road between Western Europe and China in ancient times. Cunliffe uses archaeological evidence to make his case. It is a remarkable book.

It clearly shows how exotic goods moved in both directions on the Silk Road, and exchange between China and Japan extended the trade route out into the Pacific. The Roman coin could easily have travelled from the west along the route and found a new home in Japan as a curiosity. No single traveler needed to carry the coin on its journey because down-the-line-trade would have done the job - one traveler passing the coin to the next as it went on its way.

Cunliffe's ideas should be carefully considered before the find is used as evidence for all sorts of strange events.

The shot of the interior of 84, Charing Cross Rd. brought all sorts of memories flooding back. I still have wonderful books I bought there when I worked on Denmark St in the 1990s. That is, when I could get past Foyles. But even more the picture which is of the period immediately invoked memories of the Helene Hanff book 84, Charing Cross Road one of the great bibliomaniac reads of the 20th century. First published in 1971, the book is still in print and here is a blurb from Amazon that captures the joy of the book and the reader's journey through it.

"84, Charing Cross Road is a charming record of bibliophilia, cultural difference, and imaginative sympathy. For 20 years, an outspoken New York writer and a rather more restrained London bookseller carried on an increasingly touching correspondence. In her first letter to Marks & Co., Helene Hanff encloses a wish list, but warns, "The phrase 'antiquarian booksellers' scares me somewhat, as I equate 'antique' with expensive." Twenty days later, on October 25, 1949, a correspondent identified only as FPD let Hanff know that works by Hazlitt and Robert Louis Stevenson would be coming under separate cover. When they arrive, Hanff is ecstatic--but unsure she'll ever conquer "bilingual arithmetic." By early December 1949, Hanff is suddenly worried that the six-pound ham she's sent off to augment British rations will arrive in a kosher office. But only when FPD turns out to have an actual name, Frank Doel, does the real fun begin.

"Two years later, Hanff is outraged that Marks & Co. has dared to send an abridged Pepys diary. "I enclose two limp singles, I will make do with this thing till you find me a real Pepys. THEN I will rip up this ersatz book, page by page, AND WRAP THINGS IN IT." Nonetheless, her postscript asks whether they want fresh or powdered eggs for Christmas. Soon they're sharing news of Frank's family and Hanff's career. No doubt their letters would have continued, but in 1969, the firm's secretary informed her that Frank Doel had died. In the collection's penultimate entry, Helene Hanff urges a tourist friend, "If you happen to pass by 84, Charing Cross Road, kiss it for me. I owe it so much."

I first entered 84, Charing Cross Road to honor Hanff but went back again and again to keep up with the books.