
Found a ring on Norfolk beach
I found this ring on a beach in North Norfolk in the U.K. Any ideas what this means? Is it old? It’s a heavy ring. Some sort of copper alloy.

I found this ring on a beach in North Norfolk in the U.K. Any ideas what this means? Is it old? It’s a heavy ring. Some sort of copper alloy.
I’ve been working on the stone of Claus Henry Ehlen for somewhere around a month and a half or two months now, and it still isn’t finished. This is a BIG marble monument. It’s tall, heavy, incredibly detailed, has an inscription along the bottom, and even has the stone maker’s mark on the back near the base. It is honestly one of those stones that gets more beautiful the longer you look at it, and part of what makes working on it so interesting is the man whose name is on it.
Claus Henry Ehlen was born in Germany in 1829, and his family eventually became part of a pretty fascinating piece of American history that most people outside of this area have probably never heard of. His father, John Diedrich Ehlen, brought the family to the Bethel Colony in Missouri, a German communal settlement established in the 1840s. In the 1850s, members of that community made their way west and established another communal settlement in Oregon, in what is now the small town of Aurora, about 25 miles south of Portland. It became known as the Aurora Colony. Claus was a tailor by trade, but the Ehlen family was also VERY musical, and music was a big part of life in the colony. Claus played in the Aurora Colony Band, which became well known throughout the region. There is actually a photograph of the band taken in Portland on July 4, 1876, and Claus is sitting right there in the front row playing bass. Just six years later, in 1882, he died. Knowing that history makes working on his stone pretty special.
Beside Claus is an almost matching monument belonging to his wife, Elizabeth. Hers needs quite a bit of work too, but I chose Claus first for a reason. At some point in the past, his stone broke and was repaired, and that old repair had become heavily covered with moss and biological growth. With a monument this large and heavy, a failed repair isn't just cosmetic. If that repair eventually gave way, that enormous upper section could come down and very easily break into multiple pieces. I try to choose the stones I work on based on need, not just which one I think will make the best before-and-after picture, and this one needed help.
Most of the work so far has actually been pretty simple. Lots and LOTS of water, D/2, bamboo picks, plastic scrapers, soft brushes, patience, and more patience. I went through quite a few little brushes on this one. The ones I like are technically gun-cleaning brushes, but they work beautifully for getting into all of the tiny carved details without being overly aggressive. When I'm dealing with a stone this old and this intricate, I don't try to make it look brand new. That's not the goal. Once I've removed the heavy biological growth and can actually see the surface clearly again, I back off. There is a point where continuing to chase every bit of discoloration does more to satisfy the person cleaning the stone than it does to help the stone itself, and knowing when to stop is part of the work.
That's pretty much where we are now. I'm mostly spot treating at this point, usually about every other week, working on some of the darker areas and staining that are still hanging on rather than repeatedly treating the entire monument. There is still work to do, but I think Claus will be finished before the end of this season. And then there's Elizabeth. Her stone is standing very securely and doesn't have the structural concerns that Claus's did, so she can wait. I'll most likely begin working on hers next season.
I really can't adequately explain how beautiful these two stones are in person. Even after weeks of working on this one, I still find myself stopping to look at the carving and all of the little details. Claus Henry Ehlen died more than 140 years ago, in a tiny Oregon community that most people have probably never heard of, but we still have his name, his stone, his family's history, the work he did, and the music he played. We even have a photograph taken nearly 150 years ago showing him sitting with his band and holding his instrument. For a man who died in 1882, that's an incredible amount of his story that is still here.
That's exactly why I love doing this.
In the band photo: The Aurora Band at Portland, July 4, 1876. Back row, left to right: John Giesy, flag; John Link, bass drum; Henry Meier, cymbal; Henry C . Ehlen, cornet ; William Schwader, cornet ; Carl Snyder, cornet ; Fred Keil, leader; Dr. A. J. Giesy, clarinet; Fred Giesy, clarinet; William "Cap" Miley, clarinet; Loren W. Ehlen, clarinet; Adoph Pflug, flag; Emanuel Keil, snare drum.
Front row: Claus Henry Ehlen, bass; Urban Will, bass; Henry Giesy, baritone; Samuel Giesy, bass; George Will, trumpet; Nick Giesy, alto ; George Beck, alto; William Beck, solo alto.