Scrapping days. They always get me choked up

I’m not a scraper myself so if I see or CB52D86B-4446-46F2-A05F-DD55BB63188C.jpeg 8A2CDF64-D415-4522-B8D6-DFD8B10C910F.jpeg 535BEAF9-B48F-4201-ABE0-795FF30E2C4D.jpeg D616E4ED-CBC1-4225-B932-7A5D3EDD30B9.jpeg C8E2374E-FBD0-4EC1-A14A-C4D2D9D48653.jpeg E2BDBEBD-78C9-4E27-AEAD-0FCD836F9095.jpeg 258F1800-9572-4E0B-84ED-08980B96E3D5.jpeg CF7B1390-ACC0-42C8-B7E3-767DBF4FCF14.jpeg 58B0484A-4645-4523-A2BD-C219582E7BFF.jpeg 6651A131-60AA-455D-AD59-D56EFEBBF69D.jpeg hear of someone looking for scrap I give them a holler every other year or so. From oil pans, to timing sets, a 360 block that ran 9.74, W2 heads that went 9.82 on BP93 pump gas, a Racer Brown
.520 lift cam that also went 9.80’s, rods and pistons from core engines I bought, race muffles that I blew apart, hell even a Morroso cool can from my street hoppie days in the 1970’s. Transmissions that served me well, old shop heater that kept my old bones warm, and heck even some yard tools and cart. Everything has a memory.