BRUSH VALLEY–John Andrascik is an avid hunter and angler, but his interests extend beyond wild game and freshwater fish. When Andrascik fishes for trout or walleye, he may use live bait or a tackle box packed with modern lures. But reeling in items for his collection of antique lures at can be even more challenging than bringing a muskellunge to shore. Most of Andrascik’s lures are wooden creations from the 1950s or earlier. There are such eye-catching bait designs as a red- and yellow-striped “tiger” pattern and the stubby red and white “river runt,” an approximation of a minnow. Sometimes the associated name is more colorful than the lure itself. Andrascik points to the “Blinkin’ Beauty,” a simple wooden dowel rod with a plastic spinner. He observed, “Anything that’s made of wood, we’ll never have again,” due to the greater durability and ease of producing modern lures with plastic and metal. Lures made from plastic first became widespread in the 1950s. He thinks he is one of the first to cast a line in one of the hot new collectibles on the market. “It’s part of the whole interest in Americana. I think it has to do a lot with baby boomers,” who have grown nostalgic for the fishing gear used by their fathers and grandfathers. He noted the same burst in interest applies to old wicker creels and telescopic steel fishing rods–not to mention even rarer vintage rods made of split bamboo. Andrascik began to get serious about collecting lures about seven years ago. Since then, more hobbyists than ever have come out of the woodwork to buy, sell and trade them. Homer City area collector Greg Bella started amassing lures about three years ago. Like Andrascik, Bella said, “I love to fish. “People started talking about the old lures.” So, “I started looking for them at flea markets and on eBay. The more of them I bought, the more I learned.” While Andrascik and Bella have been hooked by the hobby, they agree that very few others in the area have succumbed to the allure of their favorite collectible. While he may chance upon the odd lure at an area flea market or antique store, Andrascik notes the pickings are rather slim. “In this area, you’re confined mostly to old farming and mining items,” he said. He has picked up a few new treasures by attending antique shows. He’s also had luck on antiquing trips to the Gettysburg area. Friends also keep an eye out for the old lures. But a greater variety and quantity of lures are to be had in the Great Lakes reg-ion, where the major lure companies started and still turn out a variety of artificial bait for fishing fans. “That’s their heritage,” he said of the upper Midwest. Michigan and Wisconsin “are…where a lot of the lures originated,” Bella added. Prominent lure producers have included Creek Chub Bait Co., Garret, Ind., James Heddon’s Sons, Dow-agiac, Mich., Pflueger Sporting Goods and the Shakespeare Co., both of Columbia, S.C., and South Bend Tackle Co., Northbrook, Ill. Bella continues to scout out antique dealers and flea markets, looking for lures. But, he said, “You don’t find much around here.” He’s also had limited success selling collectible lures at his own flea market in Homer City. He relies more heavily on the Internet for both buying and selling lures. “I have a lot more luck on eBay,” Bella said. “It keeps you knowledgeable to what the prices are. It shows you what people actually are willing to pay.” According to Bella, there have been reports of a collector paying thousands of dollars for one of the very earliest and rarest of commercial lures–a minnow model patented in 1859. Consisting of copper halves soldered over a wood core, it was created by gunsmith Riley Haskell of Painesville, Ohio. Bella noted the Heddon’s company has remained one of the most popular makers of lures in the industry, and its products, accordingly, are among the most sought after by collectors. Even more recent plastic Heddon lures, if rare enough, will command a substantial price. “I saw one they put out in the late ’70s and early ’80s going for $1,500 on eBay,” he said. But Bella deals in more reasonably priced lures, ranging anywhere from $20 to a few hundred dollars. As far as collectible value goes, he said, “The condition means everything. It’s hard to find a piece that’s 70 or 80 years old and still in mint condition.” But age and scarcity also come into play. According to Bella, one of the primary ways to date an antique lure is by the metal hardware used in its construction. He pointed out, “The propellers may be a different shape,” from one era to the next. Eyes are another telling detail in lure design. Andrascik noted lures with more elaborate glass eyes rank higher with collectors than do those with painted peepers. “Glass eyes were the top of the line,” he said. “Most guys want the glass eyes,” Bella agreed. “That tells you its an older lure, from the 1950s or earlier.” From then on, he explained, most lures were equipped with “tack” eyes–painted BB-like pellets. Finding a lure in its original box is an uncommonly fortunate discovery. “They’re like old toys,” Andrascik said of the lures. “If you have the original box, it doubles the value.” So far, he hasn’t been so lucky. But Bella has managed to latch onto some vintage Heddon’s boxes. “I’m really into the boxes,” he said. “They’ve got good designs.” But more importantly from a collectible standpoint, relatively few survive. “Most people threw away the boxes when they used their lures,” Bella said. Searching through eBay’s offerings can be key to finding such rarities–if one is willing to pay the price. Not a big fan of computers, Andrascik has not explored the possibilities of the popular Internet auction site. While having lures with a high value would be a plus, Andrascik noted he’s not really interested in reselling any of his antique bait. “It’s just for my own satisfaction,” he said. He owned his first lures in the 1960s–a young outdoors enthusiast of about six years in Graceton. “I started collecting lures before I really knew I was collecting them,” he said. He bought a handful of the bait stand-ins from his older brother, Steve, who “needed a couple of bucks.” At the time, Andrascik’s investment didn’t seem like a very good one. “I don’t remember catching any fish with them,” he said. Then again, he recalled using the colorful lures only a few times on outdoor outings with his late father, George. “We used to go trout fishing along Cherry Run, or around Yellow Creek and Brush Valley,” Andrascik said. He confessed, “Most of the time, the fish we caught weren’t much bigger than the lures”–each no more than a few inches in length. Most of the lures iwere designed to attract larger fish, such as bass or pike, which weren’t common in Indiana County when he was growing up in the 1960s: “This area was pretty well depleted of everything at that time.” But those childhood purchases which flopped on local streams since have become prized entries in his collection, which includes items dating from the 1930s. Though many of his collectible lures are “just hanging around” at various spots in his home, Andrascik has arranged several of them in a display on a piece of driftwood. Most of the older wooden lures are probably made of cedar. He explained, “They would need something that wouldn’t split and would stand up to being wet.” Every collector brings a unique perspective to his hobby. “Different collectors will look for different things,” Bella noted. Among the specialties he pursues is collecting lures which the Creek Chub company produced in a particular shade of blue. As Andrascik has increas-ed his lure holdings, he’s also become more choosy. He admits some of the more brilliantly-colored lures he began with probably “caught more fishermen than they did fish. They put a lot of flash on them.” Now, he favors “ones that are natural-colored. When I buy lures today, I look for ones that might actually catch fish.” Though he doesn’t intend to cast a line baited with an antique, in principle, he noted, “I’m utilitarian. I’m looking for working stuff.” Among his favorites in that department is a jointed, brown-colored “Pikie” lure from Creek Chub. As its name suggests, the lure was intended to appeal to pike. Most collections evolve over the years. Andrascik is looking to expand his array of lures to include some types currently not represented. He noted most of his existing lures feature three hooks and are meant to attract fish near the surface. He explained, most of his surface lures were designed with a combination of propeller and a metal lip at the front: “The lip, when you reel it in, creates resistance against the surface of the water and lets the lure swim.” On the other hand, the propeller creates strategic splashes. Said Andrascik, “The fish thinks whatever it is is injured and easier prey.” If he can find any at a reasonable price, Andrascik would love to augment his collection with some underwater minnow lures, as well as versions featuring five hooks. From a fishing standpoint, Andrascik noted, “The most exciting part is when a fish breaks out of the water to grab something.” But from a collecting standpoint, “I’d like to find lures that were used to fish at different depths.” Bella noted both features are “a little more rare” among lures. “The five-hook lures are probably the most popular,” he said.” But, “They didn’t make too many of them.” As for the underwater lures, “They quit making them a long time ago, in the ’50s or ’60s. Just the average to good condition ones will go from $50 to $250.” Over the years, the basic design for a surface water lure has changed only in degrees and materials, not in substance, Andrascik said: “There’s a bigger lip to make more of a splash.” In the most recent innovation, he noted, some lures are being made from a softer plastic. So, it’s claimed, “When the (game) fish grabs the lure, it will feel more like it’s grabbing a real (bait) fish.” Andrascik still fishes for trout, using modern lures with spinners. Trekking to the mountain streams of Potter County, he said, “I’ve set an annual goal for myself of catching at least one trout at least 20 inches long.” But, he added, “I could catch anything from a bluegill to a muskie,” when venturing out to area lakes. When he gets the chance to go ice fishing, Andrascik usually relies on live bait. He pointed out, “In the winter, the metabolism of a fish slows down; they want something they don’t have to chase after.” As an interesting sideline to his collection, Andrascik has picked up two ice fishing decoys, which bear a closer resemblance to selected game fish than the lures do to smaller aquatic creatures. He noted the decoys “would have been used for walleye or pike,” in an earlier era of ice fishing in the upper Midwest. Purchased from a Sewickley antique dealer for less than $20 each, the decoys, which each fit comfortably into the palm of one hand, represent a scaled-down bluegill and catfish. While lures are designed to look like injured prey as they’re pulled through the water, Andrascik noted the decoys were simply dangled into the water on a line–in hopes of piquing the curiosity of a larger fish. He said the decoys were “mostly one-of-a-kind items hand-made by individuals.” Metal fins and lead inserts in the carved wood allowed the decoy to submerge. When a fish came to check out the dummy version, Andrascik noted, the fisherman would skewer it with a three-pronged gig–“like a small pitchfork with barbed prongs.” In comparison to lures and fish decoys, Andrascik has found it much easier to build another segment of his collection: vintage duck decoys. He’s concluded the faux ducks are both more popular with local antique lovers and much more common at area second-hand shops. Many homeowners with a country decor like to include at least one duck decoy as an accent piece, he said. “It seems everybody wants to have a duck decoy in their house.” In 15 years, Andrascik has gathered a whole flock of the fabricated fowl. As with the lures, his decoy interest grew out of the corresponding outdoor sport–a love of hunting ducks and other wildfowl. He recalled, “I bought my first decoys when I was about 14. They were on the cheap end of the spectrum, made out of papier-mache.” He used the dummy ducks, made by the General Fiber Co. of St. Louis, for hunting three or four times a year. Years later, when he decided to start a collection of the decoys, he discovered that the oldest ones available in antique venues tended to be “hand-carved of wood, not factory-produced.” “You can tell them by the chisel marks,” he noted–and again, by the glass eyes. “I’m fascinated with wood.” Though he is not skilled at woodcrafts, Andrascik appreciates others who are able to create such useful and artistic items as decoys. His collection of decoys runs from the 1920s to the early 1960s. At the late end, Andrascik has a plastic duck from 1957–because it was made by a Pennsylvania firm: the Woodstream Co. of Lititz. He obtained several choice older items sight unseen, relying on written descriptions in mail-order purchases from an antique dealer in South Carolina. “I had 30 days to decide if I wanted to keep them,” he said. In the end, he was pleased with the merchandise–including one of his oldest decoys, a 1920s black duck, which was issued by the Pratt Co. of Joliet, Ill. After buying out the Detroit-based Mason Decoy Factory in 1924, Pratt continued until 1939, when owner William E. Pratt died and the company was sold to the Animal Trap Decoy Company of Lititz, Pa., which continued production until the 1960s. As with lures, prices for decoys are greatly influenced by their condition. Many of his older decoys are in rough shape, with worn paint. “These were working decoys that were used out in the weather,” he noted. Accordingly, he has usually paid no more than $25 for each of the birds. At antique shows, similar models, better preserved, were priced at up to $2,000. “These were museum-quality pieces with documented authenticity,” he noted. As with the less plentiful fish decoys, the dummy ducks all have pieces of lead attached somewhere–in this case, to help them float properly, rather than sink. He pointed out the lead is tacked on the bottom of one of his decoys which depicts a brant–a species of fowl which is somewhat larger than a duck but smaller than a goose. “They’re located mostly along the Atlantic Ocean,” Andrascik said. Less concerned with aesthetics than practicalities, the crafter of another of Andrascik’s “ducks,” a mallard hen, simply slipped a lead ring around its neck. Andrascik owns an older blue-bill hen decoy which, save for the wooden beak, was made from cork. Cork was readily available in the late 1930s and early 1940s, when large quantities were being imported. Scattered among Andrascik’s ducks are a few decoys which depict long-beaked shore birds and much larger geese. The birds are mounted on small pedestals and are not identified by species. Those decoys date from a period when hunting of shore birds was popular more as a supplemental income than as a sport. “They made these decoys for market hunters in the early part of the century,” he said. “They even hunted robins and sold them by the dozen.” Andrascik’s pair of Canada geese decoys are nothing more than hollow cardboard shells mounted on metal stands. The modern decoys he uses for hunting still feature the same design, though they are made of plastic. Full-bodied goose decoys are bulky and quite expensive. The virtues of the cardboard versions were their light weight and the fact that they could be folded flat for storage. One of the goose decoys was made by the Minnesota-based Herter’s Company, in 1949. His most recent purchase was a Johnson’s Folding Goose model he picked up in Chambersburg. While finely detailed waterfowl figurines are purely collectibles, working decoys need only be convincing enough to attract birds to the hunter’s rifle. With both the cardboard and the plastic versions, he said, “You can position the head up or down.” He explained, “When you spread all your decoys out, it’s an advantage to have most of the heads down.” Other geese flying by will see that the “birds” are relaxed and think it’s safe. To fully mimic the birds, Andrascik added, “You keep one or two of the decoys with their heads up. Geese always have sentinels that stay on alert for trouble.” To create a convincing facsimile of a gaggle of geese, Andrascik spreads out at least 20 decoys when he, his brother Steve and nephew Daniel go on their annual goose hunt. It’s normally not a wild goose chase: “I usually get five or six ducks a year and three or four geese,” he said. Andrascik enjoys dining on duck: “It tastes like beef to me, but others say it’s more like liver.” He shares the geese with Mennonites who shun modern conveniences. Without refrigerators, he noted, “Fresh meat is at a premium.” Andrascik sees his quest for sporting collectibles as “another form of hunting.” He would like to acquire a decoy crafted by a well-known artist such as Elmer Crowell, an East Harwich, Mass., carver famed for the quality models. One of his Canada geese decoys sold for a record-breaking price of $684,500 in 2000. But Andrascik resists the temptation to exceed an affordable price range when he spots an item he wants. As in the pursuit of game, he’s learned the virtue of patience in the search for a collectible: “Somewhere along the line, I’ll find it, and it will be a better deal. “Everybody has a grandfather who has that kind of stuff stored in the attic.” Eventually, he reasons, “It will turn up at a yard sale.”

---

Copyright ©2026— Trib Total Media, LLC (TribLIVE.com)

---