There was a need for the destruction of a house. It was overrun with rodents, fleas and stray cats. Piles of dirty clothes, forgotten furniture and mounds of trash littered the interior. The house was a slumlord’s dream. It would be rented to anyone who had the cash to pay for it. The police were frequent visitors to this location. Tenets coming and going with no regularity. The only consistency was the trash in the yard.
After years of the home being in disrepair, landlord’s frustrations and the community exasperated, an investor purchased the land and the house. Now what? It was decided to demolish the house with fire. The community volunteer firefighters would use the structure for training as the infestation of fleas is eradicated. How did this home get to this fate?
My mind wanders to what the house originally was like. It was built on a large corner lot of a growing small town. It was not a large house because the first owners probably didn’t need a “great room”, a “master suite”, or a bathroom for each bedroom. It was modest for the year it was built, sturdy, and probably someone’s dream, when life was generally simplistic.
Nothing is left of the building. It is nothing but a pile of smoldering wood, metal, and cinderblocks. The training complete for the firefighters. The community will rebuild with hopes of a fresh start. Stray cats will find new homes, the wildlife who sought refuge in the worn out shell of a house will move back into the wild. Life moves forward, ever on.