How much presidential greatness can the market bare? The Ford family is determined to know.

The biggest chunk of executive effluvia since the notorious Jackie Kennedy vacuum cleaner sale goes on the block in July, and the excitement is palpable. One expects the piles of golf-wear, but you don’t get a crack at a Plexiglas [engraved!] storage box from Lucile Ball everyday.

The offerings provide a window into the swanky seventies of Jerry and Betty Ford, a time when a signed Peter Max coffee table book was a plausible gift. Long playing records by Marvin Gaye distract you from the absence of gifts from Richard Nixon, although Nelson Rockefeller is represented.

The two residences would have to be wall to wall china cupboards to hold all the hideous crystal and commemorative plates they’re selling. The one hundred thirty four mostly coffee table books on sale would take up less space, but they include seemingly any possible book an author ever dedicated to either Ford, and one of Betty’s Readers Digest Condensed Books. It’s not surprising the family would choose to unload some of these dogs, but where has it been all these years?

Could this be merely the teaser for the deluge to follow Betty’s death?

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