The Auckland collector has been on the hunt for one very important egg cup for the last two decades. Thanks to you, we’ve now found him five.
Back in June when I wrote the first instalment of Johnny Green’s stolen egg cup saga (which admittedly was just one of dozens written about the collector over the past decade), I thought it would be an extremely cut-and-dry journalistic journey. Do a nationwide callout for rare stolen 1930s egg cup. Find rare stolen 1930s egg cup. Unite old man with rare stolen 1930s egg cup.
Shortly after publication, I found myself headed to Thames to pick-up an egg cup that not only perfectly matched Green’s description, but was also sourced from an op shop in the very same town where his one was nicked back in 2000. If you squinted, it even had a faint marking on the bottom that looked like a “J”.
I was on egg cup cloud nine, high on my own egg cup supply, on top of the egg cup world. Voyager Media Awards egg cup reporter of the year? I had so many people to thank.
But the egg cup universe had other plans. Over the coming weeks, I would see more and more identical egg cups arrive at my desk at The Spinoff. Egg cups from Etsy. Egg cups from op shops. Egg cups from the back of cupboards. When I took the first batch of contenders to Green’s New Windsor home back in July, he got my hopes up as he cradled the Thames cup in his hands. “That’s definitely the one,” he mused. “But I’m not sure whether it is the one.”
The others didn’t seal the deal either. “I can’t be 100% sure,” he said. “But these will both be just as precious now as my actual mum’s one, because the kindness of people just amazes me.”
It felt like a poignant note on which to end the saga: the stolen egg cup left a hole in his heart that had now been healed by the generosity of kind strangers. But it didn’t change the fact that, even after we made the above video, egg cups simply continued arriving at my desk. Egg cups came from Patumahoe, from Kumeu, from Devonport. Everyday I stared at a growing line-up of egg cups beneath my monitor, taunting me, daring me to dream once more.
At the start of September I went to see Johnny again with another batch of egg cups for him to inspect. We sat around the kitchen table as his wife Jeanette made us tea, and he got to work assessing the latest crop. “That’s lovely,” he said, holding up the egg cup from Devonport in the light. “No initials but it’s still lovely.” The egg cup from Patumahoe came with a handwritten card: “Dear Johnny, I hope with all my heart and soul this is your long lost egg cup.”
“That’s absolutely lovely, there’s some lovely people around eh?” the 92-year-old’s eyes welled up as he read the card aloud. “You’ll be alright,” said Jeanette, patting him gently on the back, “I’ll get you a choccy bikkie.”
Over soothing TimTams, Green assessed the final cup. It was the first one he had seen with “Made in Japan” written on the bottom. Although not his initials, it was still cause for excitement. He excused himself to get up and find the hugest “spyglass” I had ever seen. “Oh wow, That’s interesting,” he said, one giant squid eye staring intently at the base. “This is nearly 100 years old. It’s just amazing. Look at those, just amazing. Oh, isn’t that so nice?”
None were a match, but that barely seemed to matter anymore. “I shall have to get back to all these people and show them how much I appreciate their generosity,” Green said, lining up all his egg cups in a row. “It just overwhelms me. Total strangers – and you wonder why I snivel.”
It’s a timely injection of support for Green as his mobile egg cup world – a truck loaded with thousands of egg cups that is a mainstay of the Auckland market scene raising money for Hospice – is currently out of commission because it failed its WOF. “They keep knocking it back for bits of rust, but how does that affect my driving or the safety of the truck? It’s just a flipping cupboard.” He’s staring down hundreds of dollars in repairs to get his truck back on the road, but his “FOR TRUCK UPKEEP” donation box has only a few silver coins and a pen in it.
“We’re only on a pension, so I was hoping to get sponsored by Cadbury’s or a chocolate factory or something.”
While his egg cup truck remains in his driveway, Green has turned his attention to another passion: games. He takes me to one of several large garden sheds bursting with hundreds of different games, with names such as “Shut the Box”, “Toad in the Hole” and “Pucket”. Absolutely none of them seem remotely real.
“I love games, I just absolutely love everything about them,” Green enthused. I suggest he could start a business hiring them out to offices.
“That’s actually what I’m thinking of doing,” the 92-year-old laughed. “But after the egg cups.”
Do you have any information about Johnny Green’s beloved egg cup? Are you Cadbury or another chocolate factory looking to sponsor an egg cup truck? Get in touch: alex@thespinoff.co.nz