TOUCHED BY JOHNNY AND JUNE CARTER CASH

      Something of a person remains on an object even when the owner has long passed. Perhaps this is part of the attraction to jewelry once worn by famous people. The Stephen L. Singer Collection travels the country, selling estate jewelry owned by the likes of Jackie O and other celebrities.   A local jewelry store featured a Singer collection, which included jewelry owned by Johnny Cash and his wife, June Carter.  I couldn�t resist taking a look.

 
 

      A gold signet ring worn by Johnny Cash had a bold, orange carnelian inscribed, �JJCC� (Johnny June Carter Cash). When held upright, its large tapered shape resembled a pharaoh�s headdress.  I imagined the $6,995 ring winking from his fingers as he strummed out �Folsom Prison Blues.� 
 

      �Once somebody famous owns something, it adds value to it,� said the jeweler. 
 

       June Carter Cash�s string of pearls, a lustrous length at 36,� was offered at $39,690. Its ruby-diamond clasp held my gaze, not because of its design, but because it once graced the nape of Johnny Cash�s wife. Here was something June Carter treasured, something she wore.  
 

      Does a possession retain some part of a person�s presence? We act like it does. When my father died, my sister kept his eyeglasses. One might hold onto a crazy-looking candy dish because �it just feels so much like Aunt Mabel.�  I once witnessed a church in New Jersey mobbed by parishioners trying to get close to the relics of St. Theresa.  When people �re-gift,� we sometimes can sense when something�s been �used.� 
 

      Is there scientific proof? Interestingly, criminal fingerprinting holds a very convincing argument about energy retention. The human hand, upon touch, leaves behind trace elements, such as oils or amino acids that never evaporate.  Laser technology changed the forensic practice of fingerprinting with its ability to detect a microscopic wattage of light from proteins left behind on fingerprints previously invisible to the naked eye.  
 

      I have always regretted not keeping my mother�s sewing machine. She would sew for long hours, making clothes for us during our childhood.  I didn�t wear a store-bought dress until I was 14. My mother fancied herself a �designer� and I cringe when I recall some of her �creations.�  But I still see her in my mind�s eye, excitedly saying, �Hija (Spanish for �daughter�), try this on!� 
 

      When my mother died, I had no room for her treadle-style Singer.  I had no plans to sew.  It made no sense to keep it. 
 

      But now its loss causes me regret.  If I could touch the wheel of her sewing machine, it would be the closest thing to putting my hand on hers once again. 
 

      All these things ran through my mind as stared at the pearls once owned by June Carter Cash.   
 

      The storeowner appeared at the counter and said, �Isn�t it something?� 
 

      I sighed.  �Oh, yes, it�s amazing.� 
 

� February 2006 Suzette Martinez Standring