The Historic Macon Flea Market celebrates its 50th anniversary this year. Yet the goods exchanged date back far earlier, giving Maconites a sense of appreciation for their own history.
Story by Julia Morrison | Photos by DSTO Moore
These days, the concept of craftsmanship has changed. Many people get furniture that feels like it falls apart within a year or two. But what if you could shop locally and get high-quality vintage finds that have been passed down for generations, cheaper than clicking BUY NOW online, and support a nonprofit cause and sustainable design at the same time?
It sounds way too good to be true. But twice a year, like clockwork, that’s exactly what happens at the Historic Macon Flea Market. This year, the market is experiencing its 50th anniversary. It’s become the biggest fundraiser of the year for Historic Macon Foundation (HMF), whose mission is to revitalize communities by preserving architecture and sharing history. But the market is more important than how the dollars and cents from Christmas ornaments or lawn chairs add up at the sales in the Oglethorpe Street warehouse. It’s literally and figuratively about how the goods change hands, embodying a spirit of community giving.
A point of privilege from this writer — my day job involves coordinating hundreds of community events a year, so I’d like to say I am choosy and that I try to know what is going on around town. But my favorite event to attend as a guest in Macon is the Historic Macon Flea Market. Going down the aisles hunting for hidden treasures on a weekend afternoon and feeling the authentic craftsmanship from eras past is just relaxing.
Plus, pieces from the Flea Market tend to embed their way into one’s family lore — or, alternatively, if they don’t work out, they’ll be back on the warehouse floor in a year or two. I remember a particular carved wood chair that I bought, upholstered with regal fabric and advertised as a Victorian chair. When I turned the chair upside down to carry it off, I noticed an old manufacturer’s sticker that said Muecke & Sons.
An eager Google later, I learned Muecke & Sons were cabinet and furniture makers, founded in the 1890s by an Austrian immigrant named Frederick Muecke and his six children. “Muecke & Sons now manufacture to order anything that can be made of wood. They make office and store fixtures, bedroom furniture, parlor and dining room suits,” noted The Telegraph in 1909. I was buzzing to know its backstory. It was a real antique and now occupies a point of pride in my living room, and it cost me a grand total of $45.
When we bought our current home, our old house was sold furnished and so we didn’t have much to go off of. My solution? The fall market was about a week after we closed, so I brought a moving truck straight there and filled it up for only a few hundred dollars. We found the perfect cabinet to fit in that little nook under the stairs in the kitchen. I can only think of the many other historic homes dotted across town whose little nooks are filled with HMF treasures.
When I was first pregnant with my son but was not comfortable sharing yet, my husband and I wanted a rocking chair for the nursery and found the perfect practical white one at the market. We hoped that people wouldn’t notice why we were buying such a specific piece. Someone made a remark in the parking lot anyway, as we tried to quickly sneak it to the car. It has now seen years of reading bedtime books and sleepless nights and toddler action sequences. Sometimes, I wonder who rocked there before.
To make the market happen, a network of charitable giving takes place. First, donors call HMF to let them know of goods that they’d like to share with the flea market. Then, the famed network of flea market volunteers spring into action. To understand the volunteers, know that at least three HMF executive directors have told me that they aren’t in charge of the market — the volunteers are the true command.
Volunteers drive a box truck to pick up donations. They do the heavy lifting (literally) to get everything in place in the warehouse, from sorting china into usable sets to writing historic descriptions of oddball goods like the story of an old cash register or instructions on opening an armoire. Goods are evaluated and priced, and volunteers keep track of who has claimed what and if they’ve paid. They help shoppers pay, applying a special discount for HMF members, and pack and load their vehicles. Like a little network of elves, their green aprons are a cheerful symbol that they are ready to work.
And because of the work of the volunteers and that the goods themselves are donated to HMF, each dollar spent at the register really does go back to fuel the mission of the organization. So the circle of good doing remains unbroken along the chain of the transaction, while thousands of Maconites become a little bit more connected to each other with shared goods and help.
Executive Director Emily Hopkins says of the flea market: “It fuels our mission of revitalizing communities by preserving architecture and sharing history — and, it’s one of the best ways to furnish your home with secondhand pieces and things that you can’t find anywhere else.” Hopkins confirmed that many of her own favorite finds started at the flea market, even when she wasn’t working for the organization.
“I think as more and more people are examining consumerism, they are trying to source secondhand items that will have another life,” she said.
Bargain hunters pay extra to go in on the first day and get best access to the market, plus more of a social hour with beer and wine available. On the public days that the market is open, expect a line that forms down Oglethorpe Street at the start of the morning with eager shoppers wanting to make their mark. Over 1,000 shoppers pass through each time the market is held.
So if your mind starts wandering for a new lampshade or a console table to round out your home collection, start with the Historic Macon Flea Market, held each year in the fall and spring. Follow HMF on social media to get exact details. A little birdy who definitely wasn’t me might tell you that oftentimes on the last day of the market, there are special sales. But at least for me, the best bargain is shopping (mostly) guilt-free, knowing that there’s a greater purpose for this eclectic collection.