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![Prince Albert Tin.png](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/67326d_9cd2115481e34be0b6502241e8b74536~mv2.png/v1/crop/x_26,y_35,w_1601,h_1217/fill/w_980,h_740,al_c,q_90,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_avif,quality_auto/Prince%20Albert%20Tin.png)
![Prince Albert Text important.png](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/67326d_bb46a56370fe494e8578f9cdb42f2307~mv2.png/v1/crop/x_672,y_198,w_983,h_112/fill/w_527,h_60,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_avif,quality_auto/Prince%20Albert%20Text%20important.png)
Prince Albert Can. c. 1930. From the man who inspired the crank call craze, this Prince Albert tobacco tin was a permanent feature of my father’s junk drawer, his affection for which is now lost to the ages. Why do I have it?—I couldn’t say. Familial whatnot’s tend to stay in the family, I guess. Whatever magic it held for him is unknown. Unless…could it have been my father who finally let the Prince out of the can?
![Prince Albert Text important.png](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/67326d_bb46a56370fe494e8578f9cdb42f2307~mv2.png/v1/crop/x_0,y_149,w_2304,h_2923/fill/w_1240,h_1573,al_c,q_90,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_avif,quality_auto/Prince%20Albert%20Text%20important.png)
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