A car wash, a missing ring, and 64 years
- Jeff Schober
- Jun 12
- 11 min read
Buried in dirt and discovered with a metal detector,
long-lost ring in Orchard Park is finally returned to owner
On a sunny summer day in 1962, 19-year-old Janet Nixon washed her father’s car in her family’s front yard on Michael Road in Orchard Park, near the borders of West Seneca and Elma. Removing her hands from soapy water, she felt dismay when her class ring flew from her finger, tumbled to the ground, and she couldn’t find it.
Nixon had graduated from Orchard Park High School the previous year, and proudly wore her gold band each day. It featured her inscribed initials on the inside. The ring’s centerpiece — an enlarged, raised, interlocking “OP” — was painted white, with a maroon background.
She looked around to no avail, then hurried inside to tell her parents and siblings that the ring had slipped from her finger amid the suds. For the next several days, different family combinations scoured the grass and gravel yard on hands and knees, hoping to discover the lost item.
It was never found.
Nixon was disappointed, but after a few days, didn’t spend much time ruminating. The following year, she married Richard, becoming Janet Downey. She and her husband moved into an apartment in South Buffalo, but visited her parents’ home often.
“After I moved out, we were constantly back there for family events,” she said. “We were a close family, and still are. There were nine kids. That was our homestead.”
In 1972, her parents sold the house to Richard and Grace Schmitt, a family with three boys, and moved to Gowanda. During the property transfer, Janet’s mother mentioned to Grace that one of her kids had lost a ring on the property a decade before. The Schmitts promised to keep their eyes open.
For the new owners, it became a long-running joke. When one of the boys came home after playing outside, their mother would joke, “Did you find the ring?”
“It was a family legend for years and years and years,” said Roger Schmitt, who grew up in the home. He had no idea that his latest hobby would bring the tale full circle.
Old Schoolhouse
“I got into metal detecting about six or seven years ago,” Schmitt said. “Brian Benson, one of my friends, got me into it.”
Benson was raised in Cheektowaga and attended Maryvale schools. His father and Schmitt’s father were best friends, so the boys grew up together, remaining close into adulthood. Both were born in 1968; Schmitt turns 58 in July.
“It’s a cool hobby,” he said. “We like to target properties where old homes used to be. When we locate something, equipment can tell us how deep an item is, to a degree, and a ferrous number lets you reason which metal it is. When the metal detector goes off, you dig a plug, remove it from the ground, then use a smaller pinpointer to find whatever metal is inside the clump. When we find stuff, we yell and scream.”
Across various locations, Schmitt and Benson have discovered horseshoes, a cuff link, a jackknife, fuses, and several coins. Once they dug up a large U.S. Cent, dated 1840. Their oldest find, on property along Milestrip Road in Orchard Park, was a coin minted in 1828 — when Andrew Jackson was president.
Schmitt is a history buff, and a jack-of-all-trades. His day job is working as an independent contractor, selling industrial equipment to the plastics industry. But he is also a husband, father of three adult children, and runs a wood-burning business, does commercial voiceovers, plays trumpet, sings in a church choir, tinkers on his late father’s 1967 Ford Galaxie 500, and calls meat raffles.
“I just enjoy people,” he said.
He moved into the former Nixon house in 1972, when he was four. The family still owns the home. His father died in 2016, and his mother passed away last October. Schmitt’s brother, Jeff, currently lives there.
The property has an interesting history. The home, probably constructed in the 1870s, was once a schoolhouse in Orchard Park. (In old records, Schmitt has seen it alternately labelled as “Schoolhouse 9” and “Schoolhouse 1”.) After World War II, Orchard Park schools consolidated, so the land and building were listed for sale.
“That was one of six schoolhouses that went up for auction in 1949,” Downey recalled. “My father put a bid on that one and got it. He paid $3200 and began remodeling.”
At the time, the Nixon family owned a grocery store in Buffalo’s First Ward. Once the schoolhouse was converted into a home, the family moved there in 1950, and continued renovating the house, eventually building a garage, a breezeway, and adding a fireplace. Downey’s siblings helped mix mortar for a two-story chimney that still stands.
Schmitt believes that an original schoolhouse, closer to the road, burned down, and its replacement — what is now the home — was constructed deeper on the lot. So when he and Benson began metal detecting, the front yard seemed a good place to start. They unearthed metal scrollwork that had been part of student desks, along with bricks and various other trinkets.
“The ground consumes things,” he explained. “That’s why you have to dig. People have been dropping stuff for centuries.”
Schmitt has always been interested in discarded items. As a boy, he would comb the farmland behind his house after it had been plowed, discovering broken plates and utensils. He has waved his metal detector all over the family property. It was always his goal to find the mythical missing ring.
“I suspected roughly where it was,” he said. “The story was that it was somewhere near a row of pines, but I didn’t know which side. Some of those trees are gone now.”
Like any property, landscape evolves across time. There was once a pool to the right of the house. Flagstones leading down a hill are still visible in the lawn. A few evergreen trees are nearby, although many have died and been removed over the years. Other trees have sprouted and grown.
This spring, Schmitt ran his metal detector near a copse of pines along the side of the house. A protruding root served as a landmark.
“I kept getting a good signal,” he said. Using a spade, he dug out a plug of earth, but couldn’t pinpoint anything with his smaller detector. He suspects that other metal in the hole may have affected the reading. He returned the plug into the ground and vowed he would come back another day.
After dinner on Tuesday, May 12, Schmitt mowed the lawn. As dusk approached, he walked the property, feeling reflective, and decided to revisit that site. He dug the plug out again and waved the metal detector over the clump of mud.
“It was going off like crazy,” he said. “I could see something shiny sticking out of the soil. As soon as I started to gently pull, I knew what it was.”
The metal was caked with dirt, but it was a ring. Not just a ring — it was the legendary class ring. For more than 50 years, Schmitt had wondered whether it truly existed.
He stood for a moment, dumbfounded, then leaned back and filled his lungs.
“I found it!” he yelled in triumph.
Schmitt’s brother, Jeff, was inside the house. He ran to a window, opened it, and asked if everything was okay. What had his brother found?
“The class ring!”
Jeff’s jaw dropped. From across the yard, both brothers stood in awe.
Unusual phone call
Inside, Schmitt held the ring under a faucet, flooding it with warm water, then wiped gently with a soft brush. Dirt fell away, revealing that the band was not corroded or tarnished. Inscriptions were clearly visible: the year 1961 and initials J.A.N.
“Once I cleaned it up, it looked like the day she lost it,” Schmitt said. “It was shiny, beautiful 10-karat gold, with no scratches or nicks. It fit on my pinkie. I wore it for a day.”
He knew about the Nixon family, so the “N” made sense. But he did not know the names of their children. Who was “J.A.”?
If the ring’s owner graduated high school in 1961, that meant she would have been born around 1943. Schmitt did some quick math. Eighty-three years had passed. Was it possible that she was still alive? Who was she, and could he find her?
Energized and enthused, he pursued several paths simultaneously. First, he contacted two friends that might be able to help. Bill Boldt had graduated with some of the Nixon children, and Schmitt wondered if he was still in touch with any of them. Boldt was not, but suggested names of fellow classmates who might be.
Then Schmitt texted Brandon Hafner, the current principal at Baker Road School in Orchard Park. Until last year, Hafner had worked at Orchard Park High School for more than two decades, first as a chemistry teacher, then as the House 1 principal.
“Roger sent me some pictures of the ring,” Hafner said. “You could read the initials and he knew the last name was Nixon. He wondered if I could get information from old yearbooks.”
Schmitt was playing history detective, and momentum moved quickly. He found a deed for the property, and located the prior owner’s full names: Austin and Agnes Nixon. Then he went online and scoured obituaries. Agnes Nixon died in 2020 at age 100.
“I was going down the list of survivors, and one of them is Janet A. Downey,” Schmitt said. “I knew that matched the J.A. on the ring. So now I had a name.”
Hafner pursued different resources. He phoned Sandy Basile, a longtime office secretary at Orchard Park High School.
“I sent her Roger’s messages,” he said. “She sent back an email with a picture from the alumni book that listed all the Nixons that graduated from Orchard Park. It had every Nixon from the 1950s into the 2000s. One of the names matched the initials, and had an address and contact info.”
Janet A. (Nixon) Downey lives in Colden. Schmitt had her phone number. On Wednesday, the night after he dug up the ring, he left an unusual voicemail.
“I’m Roger Schmitt,” he said. “I live at 7661 Michael Road. There was a Nixon family that lived here before us and there was a story about a lost class ring. I think it was yours. Anyway, I found it. Give me a call back if this makes any sense. If you’re not the right person, I’m sorry for bothering you.”
Schmitt hung up, wondering what to do next.
Fifteen minutes later, his phone rang.
Downey, who turns 83 in July, introduced herself to Schmitt. She joked that his was the last phone call she expected to receive that day.
“I had no idea what the message was at first,” Downey said. “I thought he said his name was ‘Smith,’ so it was a little confusing when I listened to the message. Then I thought, ‘Oh my goodness! I lost that ring in 1962, so that’s 64 years ago. That’s a long time.’ I had told my husband and kids the story of losing the ring, but never thought anyone would ever find it.”
The initials — J.A.N. — referenced her middle name, Agnes.
Schmitt sent her photos of the ring. The white and maroon paint was no longer visible, but otherwise there were no blemishes. Schmitt invited Downey to the family home so he could return the ring in person.
They met the following week, on Thursday, May 21. Downey’s brother, Pat, a Gowanda police officer, and his wife, Harriet, accompanied her. Their initial meeting was recorded and posted on Schmitt’s Facebook page.
“She stayed for about two hours,” Schmitt said. “We walked around the house, and things were coming back to her and her brother. She even brought some pictures from when they lived here. It was great to learn their history."
This was not the first time Downey had returned to the property.
“It was a deep memory for my mother and the rest of us growing up there. Maybe 20 years ago, my sister Debbie (Gambino) was in touch with Grace Schmitt. She asked if Mrs. Schmitt would mind if my mother and my sisters and I could come over to visit and see what the house was like, and she said yes. So we went and visited with Mrs. Schmitt. It was quite the experience for my mom.”
During her recent visit, Downey was given another tour. Because memory can play tricks on people, the house isn’t exactly how she pictured it.
“It’s smaller than I remember,” she said. “My mother kept it organized. We used to can vegetables and had a fruit cellar in the basement. It was a happy time when we grew up there. We made friends with all the neighbors. It brought back a lot of memories. But with nine kids, I wonder how in the world we all fit in there.”
More metal detecting
The ring no longer slides over Downey's knuckles, due to arthritis. Like Schmitt, however, she twisted the band onto her pinkie briefly, then went home and laid it in a velvet box.
The tale of the returned ring has spread by word of mouth. On a recent weekend, someone from her church asked about it.
“This one told that one, and that one told someone else,” she surmised. “I’m surprised at the interest people have. I guess it’s historical and things like this don’t happen easily.”
Downey appreciates that Schmitt was adamant about finding her to return the ring. She admires his integrity.
“He could have kept it,” she said. “He was honest and called me, but he could have turned it in for money. It was nice of him to give it back.”
Selling the ring never crossed Schmitt’s mind.
“Not once did I think about that,” he said. “As soon as I found it, my next thought was ‘I have to find this person.’”
When he and Benson receive permission to use their metal detectors on someone else’s property, they promise to hand over anything that is found. Schmitt and Benson hope to expand their hobby. They are eager to search on plots of land with older houses. They review old maps, seeking potential locations, and love uncovering buried things, whether trash or treasure. Items are returned to the rightful owners whenever possible.
“We’re not out to make money,” Schmitt said. “Our target is to find a coin that starts with ‘17.’ If we find something from the 1700s, I don’t know what we’ll do. All of Western New York is going to hear us scream.”
(As part of this story, Schmitt requested that we put out the word. If you have an older property and want to invite Schmitt and Benson onto your land to explore with their metal detectors, call or text him at 716-720-2985.)
Discovering the lost ring has been an interesting experience for Schmitt, Downey, and others.
“It’s nice to share memories of the same house we grew up in,” Downey said. “He has different memories, but he was really interested to know things about my childhood and what it was like.”
Schmitt analyzed events of the past few weeks.
“The whole story is so cool,” he said. “On Facebook, I had hundreds of people say that this is awesome. Sixty-four years ago, this woman lost her class ring. So many people have done the same thing and it’s insignificant. Fast forward to the ring being found. Wonderful things are happening around this ring. Stories are being told about the house. Stories about the Nixon family and my family. We’re being written about! It’s astounding and inspiring. It’s brought so many people together.”
Text © 2026 by Jeff Schober
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Jeff Schober has a journalism degree from Bowling Green State University and a master’s degree in English and History from the University at Buffalo. He retired from teaching English and Journalism at Frontier High School and is the best-selling author of ten books, including the true crime book Bike Path Rapist with Det. Dennis Delano, and the Buffalo Crime Fiction Quartet. Visit his website at www.jeffschober.com.
Steve Desmond is an award-winning photographer. With his son, Francis, he is the author of A Life With A Purpose which raises money for Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy research. To view more of Steve's work, search Facebook under "Steve Desmond" and "Desmond's PrimeFocus Photography," or on Instagram at "Stevedesmond9."
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What a great outcome at the homestead I grew up at!! Many good memories.Thank you for sharing♥️Nancy Nixon Hackemer
Sarasota Florida