Of all the houses, this one haunt me a little bit:
This was a simple 2 room house, the living quarters and a kitchen, with lapboard siding and a tin roof. The front and back porch were really small.
When I first found this house, I walked to the door and saw this old hospital bed in the corner. Next to the old bed was a table, a rotary phone, some meds and dirty dishes. It looked like time simply stopped in that house at one moment.
You try to imagine the last occupant of the house. Someone’s mom or dad refused to leave the house and became bedridden. The bed was put near a window and facing the door. The phone book beside the bed had the most important phone numbers on the front and the old phone was close enough to reach.
Then, one day, someone stopped by to check on the elderly occupant (mom, dad, aunt, uncle - who knows) and the person had died in the bed where they had wanted to spend their last momemts on earth - in their home.
The authorities were called and the deceased was taken to the funeral home. A small funeral was held several days later.
The house was left as it was - frozen in time, nothing moved, not even the bed sheets were moved from their last wrinkles.
As least that’s the way I imagine it. I stopped by a year or 2 later and the old bed had been stolen and the mattress thrown in the corner of the house. Everything else was the same.
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The stories those old sad houses could tell if only they could talk.
“I am constantly amazed at the stupidity of the general public.”
~my dad
Equipment:
190cc Sea Pro w/130 Johnson
1- 15 year old
1 - 11 year old
1 - wife (The Warden)
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