This building was once new, housing several families over the years. I can feel their hopes and dreams, but also their fears and worries. Fathers came home from work with only a few pennies, but it was the 1940’s, so that was all they needed. Mothers talked amongst themselves, sharing gossip and news while hanging the clothes to dry, children walked a few blocks down the road to school or work, returning in the early afternoon to help with the chores.

​

I stare out of the large hole which used to be a single pane window, taller than me. How many children breathed on this window in the winter and drew faces in the condensation? How many Christmas trees or menorahs were framed by the glass, lighting up the night for all to see? There was homework done here, within these walls. School plays were practiced, baseball games were listened to, and babies were born. People grew up, lived, and died here, calling this place home. Now, it’s empty.

Walls are crumbling, paint is peeling, and vandals have struck. Beneath all the damage and destruction, one can see what used to be, if only you look hard enough. What will become of this place, this “used to be” home? Only time will tell, but for now, it sits quiet as the rest of the world passes it by, the two lane highway only a few yards away, nobody giving it a second thought. It has been forgotten, just like the family that used to live here, but I stand still, eyes closed, trying to remember what it was like to live in a house that I’ve never visited before.

Author’s Note: I captured this photo in 2021 while exploring ghost towns in Curry County, New Mexico. I believe the house is, or once was, near Broadview, though I could be mistaken. This image still resonates with me today, just as it did then. Every place carries a story, and I often wish I could journey back in time to witness its history firsthand. I originally wrote about this experience shortly after taking the photo and shared it on Facebook. While revisiting my digital files, I came across the piece and was struck by the writing. I decided to republish it here, appreciating the reflection it offered.