Do you know how to spot this penny? Coins are one of those things that are hiding everywhere, and sometimes they can be worth much more than their actual coin value. And most recently, news sources have been reporting that this coin is worth a pretty penny!
According to Coin Trackers, the New York Post, KHOU, and Daily Mail UK, a mint condition 1943 copper wheat penny could earn you more than $85,000! According to KHOU (who consulted with Royal Coin and Jewelry, a Houston dealer specializing in rare coins), in 1943, pennies were made of steel and were additionally zinc-plated to prevent rust. Coin Week explains, “Because copper was needed for purposes relating to World War II, all 1943 cents were planned to be struck on zinc-coated steel planchets.” WATCH THE VIDEO BELOW
At some point during that year, however, a few copper blanks made it into the minting process— and it is these “mistake” coins that are now being sold for amounts somewhere in the 5 and 6 figures. As mentioned, these 1943 copper wheat pennies must be in mint condition to net values in the $85,000 range. But even in lesser conditions, they have still been selling at an average price of $60,000 (according to Coin Tracker). Saul Teichman, an expert in U.S. Mint errors explains (via Coin Week) that collectors drive up the value of the coin, explaining:
“1943 copper cents have a special cachet with collectors. As for market value, the 1943 cents sell for much more than other errors struck around the same time. ” “Many other World War II errors are rarer than 1943 copper or 1944 steel cents but bring a fraction of a price as they lack that special cachet.”
According to media sources, coin collectors must be cautious about 1943 copper wheat penny dupes.
Now that these pennies have been getting a lot of attention, the market is rife with counterfeit copies. Coin Trackers said that many fraudsters will file down the left side of the number 8 on a 1948 copper penny to make it look like a genuine from 1943. Others will take a regular steel penny and coat it with a copper covering in order to make it appear like the real deal. If you’re concerned about a counterfeit, Coin Trackers advises using a magnet to test the coin.
As Daily Mail UK explains, “A solid copper penny will not stick to a magnet, while a steel penny with copper plating will.” So, what are you waiting for? Go take a look at your collection, because you may just have one of the luckiest pennies around! Please SHARE this with your friends and family.
I Found Tiny Childrens Shoes on My Late Husbands Grave Every Time I Visited, Their Secret Changed My Life
When Ellen visits Paul’s grave, seeking solace, she’s puzzled by the sight of children’s shoes resting on his headstone. At first, she dismisses it, assuming it’s a mistake by another grieving family. But as more shoes appear over time, the mystery deepens. Determined to understand, Ellen eventually catches the person responsible—and her life changes in an instant.
The first time I saw the shoes, I thought someone had made a mistake. A small pair of blue sneakers lay beside Paul’s headstone, neatly arranged as if left with intention. I figured a grieving parent had misplaced them. People do strange things when they mourn—I know I did. After Paul passed away in a sudden accident, I spent an entire week making jam that I knew I’d never eat. It was the only thing that made me feel like I was doing something, anything.
But those shoes were different. They didn’t belong, and I moved them aside before placing my flowers by Paul’s grave. It wasn’t until my next visit that I noticed something unusual: there were more shoes. This time, tiny red rain boots. Then, during another visit, I found dark green sneakers. It was too deliberate to be random. And it didn’t make sense. Paul and I never had children. I tried to convince myself it was a mistake—a grieving parent finding comfort in placing shoes at the wrong grave—but deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
As the shoes multiplied with each visit, it felt like an invisible hand was pulling at the fragile threads of peace I had stitched together. Frustrated, I stopped visiting for a while, hoping that by staying away, the shoes would disappear. They didn’t. Instead, they kept coming. When I finally returned, six pairs of children’s shoes stood in a neat row beside Paul’s headstone, like a haunting tribute I couldn’t comprehend.
My sadness turned into anger. Who was doing this? Was this some cruel joke?
Then, one cold morning, I finally saw her. She was crouched beside the grave, gently placing a pair of small brown sandals next to the growing collection. Her long, dark hair swayed in the breeze as she carefully arranged them, her movements slow and purposeful.
“Hey! You!” I yelled, charging toward her, the flowers I had brought slipping from my grasp, forgotten.
She flinched but didn’t run. Instead, she stood slowly, dusting off her coat before turning to face me. That’s when my breath caught in my throat.
It was Maya—Paul’s old secretary. I hadn’t seen her in years, not since she abruptly left her job. She had always been warm and cheerful, but the woman standing before me now seemed burdened with a sorrow I recognized all too well.
“Maya?” I whispered, the disbelief heavy in my voice.
She nodded, her eyes red with unshed tears. Without a word, she reached into her coat pocket and handed me a worn photograph. My hands shook as I took it, my heart pounding in my chest.
It was a picture of Paul, smiling down at a baby boy cradled in his arms.
“His name is Oliver,” Maya said softly. “He’s Paul’s son.”
I stumbled backward, the world spinning as the weight of her words sank in. My husband, the man I thought I knew so well, had lived a secret life—with a child.
“You and Paul were…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Maya nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you. But after Paul’s accident, Oliver started asking about his dad. I told him Paul was watching over him, and every time Oliver gets a new pair of shoes, he asks me to bring the old ones to his daddy.”
The shoes… they were a child’s way of staying connected to the father he had lost.
I wanted to scream, to demand answers from a man who could no longer give them. But standing there, staring at the shoes left behind by a little boy who would never know his father, I felt my anger start to melt into something else—something softer.
Maya looked at me with guilt etched on her face. “I’ll stop bringing the shoes. I never meant to upset you.”
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