Every time I go to northwest AR, I get this urge to stop by my dad’s house. He grew up in a small town, the population was 300+ people. At that time, if you wanted to call someone on the phone, you would have to walk across the street and get the lady who ran the switchboard to let you in so she could make your call. For a young child, it was fascinating to watch her plug and unplugged the cords on the switchbox. Up the next block was the main grocery store. That was fun to go there, too. You could get what you wanted, and just tell the clerk to put it on the bill. As a child, I didn’t realized that someone will still have to pay for it.
Last spring, I had to go to north AR and this urge came up again. While in the past, I have stopped before, but this time the urge was strong, so I drove by again. I got out and took photos of the place. After loading up the photos and working on them, I think I felt a peace with this place. I love the front porch. So many memories of sitting out there in the evening, listening to the crickets, the train coming through and stories of the ‘old days’. One of my favorite was about the tornado that came through. The engineer of a train, saw it, and blew the horn all the way through town, warning people about the approaching storm. Around 9:00 pm, we would walk down to the railroad tracks and wave to the engineer then off to bed. Yes, it was pretty simple back then.
As you look at the picture, you can see that this house does not have much time left. It is rotting and has been neglected. I do like to capture places that will soon be gone. Maybe that is what this urge was about. Hope you enjoy the photo.