Flick: One Man’s 9-year Adventures...in A Ditch | Columnists

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… Baseball cards, 33 rpm albums, snow globes, hotel soaps, comic books, autographs, beer glasses, jigsaw puzzles, caps, pretty rocks, cat videos, refrigerator magnets, Zippo lighters, Matchbox cars, seashells, election buttons, shot glasses, license plates hung on a garage wall, handbags, dolls, shoes, jewelry, classic cars, books, movie posters, postage stamps, coins …

Then there’s Van Baker’s collection.

A 73-year-old Bloomington man, never intending for it to become one, he nonetheless has perhaps the most unique collection yet.

Two unused tickets to the 2020 NBA All-Star Game in Chicago, along with a commemorative “limited edition” Kobe Bryant tribute?

Jewelry, with a bit of mud on it?

A large Budget Inn & Suites marquee sign broken into pieces?

An infrared thermometer, a $2 bill, a large tarpaulin to cover a dump-truck bed, a skimpy woman’s nightie, various automotive parts, bottles of 5-Hour Energy Drink, hammers, a screwdriver, a few tire irons, a bag of U.S. Mail, a sweater or three, an impressive array of liquor decanters, too many COVID-ready face masks?

America’s weirdest collector? Sure. You could call Van Baker that.

As a goodwill gesture that has evolved into a bit of a funny, offbeat “hobby,” he collects — umm, well — trash.

Or, to be more precise, he snaps pictures of the refuse he collects, then catalogs it and files it.

Yes, if this goes Hollywood, it’ll surely be titled, “The Fascinating Not Underseas But Over Culverts World of Van Baker.”

Van Baker has found a hobby in picking up litter along Linden Street in Normal, where he finds all sorts of unusual items.

As a volunteer in a public-service endeavor of his church, the United Church of God, for nine years, at least twice a week, Van has dutifully troweled, scoured and “un-littered” his area — the ravine-like ditches along North Linden Street in north Normal, from Ironwood Gardens to Raab Road, a highly traveled area into Normal where the road transforms from rural to urban and ostensibly, is a last-second ditching point of assorted stuffs.

A Bloomington High graduate who moved to Pasadena, California, for his career, in retirement, Van moved back, to be closer to family.

For a while, his ditch duty and contribution to community betterment was just that: rounding up plastic cups, fast-food discards, condom wrappers, used vape pipes, bottlecaps, people’s caps, hubcaps, nightcaps.

… Man from Glad, Meet Mr. Garbage Disposal.

If it wasn’t to the junk yard afterward, it was to the recycling center.

But Van is a thinking man and over time, from the array of refuse he was collecting, he realized his exploits were becoming an adventure, perhaps even oddly fun.

“I anticipated trash, yes,” he says. “But just as with the ancient 'tells’ (petrified hills of trash) of the Middle East (that centuries later tell a lot about that time and civilization), a lot of contemporary life ends up in ditches today.”

Naturally, discarded alcohol containers inevitably become the most popular residents of the nearest gully.

But between Budweiser and Smirnoff, Van has pulled up some rare finds, too, like Jack Daniels Tennessee Honey and Eagle Banana Bread beer.

One day in a ditch, he found an entire garage-door opening system.

Van Baker with any number of the various kinds of balls he trawled out of a ditch along Linden Street in Normal.

On another was discovered a packet of U.S. mail that apparently had blown out of a USPS vehicle. (He returned it to postal officials.)

Another time he picked up a car’s engine belt, only to discover — whoopsie! — it was a live snake.

Once he was chased around by a wild turkey.

“It can get exciting,” he smirks.

There’s been male thong underwear, “Virginity Rocks” buttons, baseballs, footballs, whiffle balls, golf balls, a beach ball, books, game tickets, even an elastic baby bow for an infant to wear on its head.

“From time to time, I find family pictures, many of kids. Once I found a picture of a baby that was ripped in two. Who tears up baby pictures and throws them out of a car window? This can be a sad job, too,” Van said.

Van Baker picks up a ball from a ditch along Linden Street in Normal.

In time, Van started taking the pictures, especially of anything rather novel, and began cataloging them.

Interestingly, what has evolved is a 21st century time capsule of sorts, of stuff you’d never purposely place in a time capsule but might also be more revealing of a time and an era.

A showcase of throwaway. A collection of life’s undersides. A snapshot of the no longer desired.

A quiet, intelligent, godly man with a sense of humor and devotion to serve and preserve, Van has discovered a “hobby” of sorts in an odd and yet kindest, most conservatory of ways.

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure?

And sometimes — heck, even better — it's both.

Marcfirst held its annual Disability Pride Parade on Monday in downtown Bloomington.