A corner of Sell My What
He knew what every lens was worth. You don't have to.
Dad was the photographer. You just have the closet — bodies, lenses, a flash that may or may not fire, and no idea what any of it's worth. You don't need to learn. Photograph the shelf with your phone, we write it up, and people who spent forty years learning what it's worth bid it out in one weekend. It goes to somebody who'll actually shoot it. You get a fair price without ever finding out what an f-stop is.
The gear finds a photographer. The money finds you.
Why it ends up here
Camera gear is the last box anyone deals with. It looks valuable, so it doesn't go in the truck; nobody in the family can say what a Canon AE-1 with a sticky shutter is actually worth, so it doesn't get listed either. It sits in a closet, then it sits in a different closet. Here it goes out in front of people who already know: one weekend, no reserve, no haggling, and whatever nobody claims goes to the hauler.
Call the What Line.
Call and read us what's printed on the lens. We'll take it from there.
It's an AI. It's patient. It doesn't know your name.
Furniture is still the main event — the dressers and tables are over here.