After my dad died in 2006, I was part of the family crew to help decide the allocation of all of his earthly possessions. His place had been sold, and we had to clear it out.

His most personal belongings that were of sentimental value had already been spoken for and properly assigned to family members. We were at the point when we now had to deal with the everyday "stuff". From the obvious: furniture, lamps, stuff on the walls - to the everyday consumable-type stuff: the large stash of toilet paper and cleaning supplies, the frozen selection of Stouffer's foods, to the half bottle of whiskey.

Take it away, give it away, throw it away - we had to figure out what to do with everything and move it all away.

Dad had a wall full of bookcases on one end of the living room. His bookcases reflected that he was more into thoughtful and functional decoration as opposed to housing books. As I recall, he was never a very avid bookreader.

However, what he read, and what he loved, were newspapers. He was a true newspaperman. He spent a fruitful 40-year career as an advertising salesman for the Los Angeles Times.

If it wasn't thrown on the front porch, printed on newsprint in 6-column tabloid format, and contained pages and pages of classified ads, he really wasn't too terribly interested.

So, on this particular day, after he was gone, it was my job to pack up the decorative contents of his bookcases.

The bookcases were filled with some of Dad's own memorabilia: framed photos of his kids and grandkids, a set of maracas from a 1965 trip to Mexico, and three sterling silver award cups he achieved for breaking advertising sales records at The Times.

There were a few miscellaneous books. Nothing really earthshattering.

Cookbooks. I wanted those!

A few James Michener novels, some historical World War II factbooks, and one very interesting book that documents the internal history, triumph and turmoil of the Los Angeles Times from 1881 to 2000. Privileged Son: Otis Chandler and the Rise and Fall of the L.A. Times Dynasty, by Dennis McDougal.

On the very bottom shelf, there was a set of 14 black, identically sized books lined up neatly like a set of encyclopedias. These were not encyclopedias, but they were really old books.

Hmmm, Dad never really talked about these. While my curiosity was piqued, there was no time to think about them right now. I just boxed them up and took them home. I thought that when I had some time, I would surf the net and see what I could find out about them.

Fast forward to 2008

I got a fung shei attack to get my garage organized. I would finally like to park my car in there. So, I'm looking at the things that maybe I can get rid of and sell on eBay.

I spot the box with my dad's old books. So, exactly how old are they?

I take one of the books out and open the inside few pages looking for a date. 1916.

I'm thinkin' "Ca-Ching!"

In my quest for gaining the highest price for these old books, I bring them into my home office for closer examination.

They are in surprisingly good condition for being 92 years old. The book covers are leather, with embossed art detailing. The pages are roughly trimmed on the edges, called "deckle edge", the result of the manufacturing process of handmade books.

This particular set of books is the Memorial Edition of Elbert Hubbard's Little Journeys. This edition was published in 1916, about a year after Hubbard died. Hubbard and his wife, Alice Moore Hubbard were killed when the Lusitania was torpedoed and sank on May 7, 1915.

Elbert Hubbard was a writer, a publisher, and one of the founders of the Roycroft Shop. The name came from Samuel and Thomas Roycroft, who printed very beautiful books in London from about 1650 to 1690. The meaning of Roycroft was King's Craft, in old times, a term for the achievement of high skill. In his Little Journey's autobiography, Elbert Hubbard describes a Roycrofter as "a person who makes beautiful things, and makes them as well as he can." The philosophy of the Roycroft Shop was to balance between work and right living - "sweat shop methods did not produce beautiful things" (Elbert Hubbard, Little Journeys)

When I opened the first volume of Little Journeys, I was stunned to see what was on the introductory first pages.

These books were especially made by Roycrofters, on behalf of my great grandfather, Burt Savage, for his son, Boyd Savage on his 21st birthday - in 1916.

The 14-Volume Set of Little Journeys

• Volume I - To the Homes of Good Men and Great
• Volume II - To the Homes of Famous Women
• Volume III - To the Homes of American Statesmen
• Volume IV - To the Homes of Eminent Painters
• Volume V - To the Homes of English Authors
• Volume VI - To the Homes of Eminent Artists
• Volume VII - To the Homes of Eminent Orators
• Volume VIII - To the Homes of Great Philosophers
• Volume IX - To the Homes of Great Reformers
• Volume X - To the Homes of Great Teachers
• Volume XI - To the Homes of Great Businessmen
• Volume XII - To the Homes of Great Scientists
• Volume XIII - To the Homes of Great Lovers
• Volume XIV - To the Homes of Great Musicians

Elbert Hubbard appeared to be the most welcomed guest, visiting the homes of the distinguished likes of Gainsborough and Leonardo, John J. Astor, Jane Austin, Empress Josephine, George Washington and Ben Franklin.

He documented his visits to the homes of history's most wise, talented and influential people. The Roycrofters printed his stories in these beautiful books, and in 1916, my great-grandfather had a Memorial Edition printed up just for my grandfather's 21st birthday.

And, today, I'm thinking about putting them on eBay.

Sentiment vs. Logic

The sentimental part of me felt that the value of these books suddenly took on a whole new meaning, truly deeper than the mere pittance of money. These books touched my heart.

However, the logical part of me said, "Wait a minute - I never laid eyes on either of these men - grandfather or great-grandfather Savage. As a matter of fact, the stories I overheard as a young girl, my grandfather left my grandmother high, dry, poor and alone, circa 1937, to raise my father and his two sisters."

Grandpa was not a great guy. Boyd Savage SENIOR abandoned his family.

My grandmother made tremendous sacrifices for her children. When I was a young child, she was still working to make ends meet as a schoolteacher at the Sixth Street School in Los Angeles. She struggled for years - for all that she did for her children - and for all that she became to me. She was my hero.

If I got $6.99 for the whole set, it would make more room in my garage.

Sell them, or save them? That is the question.