Living near a research-based industrial park means that development never stops. Workers are ceaselessly plowing down chunks of forest and rearranging the red clay for some future building complex. Sometimes it is a ploy to lure another customer, while the land sits naked for months and years awaiting a purpose. Sometimes a concrete foundation sprouts before all the logs have been cleared.
Back in November, the clear-cut removal of a second-growth stand of trees revealed an intriguing artifact: an old, crumbling house.
As native North Carolinian, dilapidated houses and barns are a common site. They litter our backyards, farm fields, and second-growth forests. Even in a developed/developing area, you have a good chance of spotting these undervalued antiques. One of my favorite past-times as a child was exploring and playing in the old, abandoned buildings throughout my grandfathers neighborhood and, later in life, my hometown and surrounding country. You could always count on finding something interesting. One such little house on our neighbor’s property was filled to the brim with tattered bags of socks. It also had the wire skeleton for a box-spring in it, with a cat’s bare bone skeleton attached to it. We also found a mummified opossum in that house. Those are a few stand-out memories.
I am still completely delighted every time I spot a new structural relic. As soon as I saw this house, I knew I had to go take pictures. Everyday I drove past, even on weekends, some part of the construction crew was there working. Finally my chance came on Thanksgiving. I was headed up to Asheville and decided to swing by. Sure enough, everyone was on holiday. I parked at a business complex nearby and scurried across.
I started taking pictures of the exterior. Despite how much I wanted to go inside, I knew it was too dangerous. The roof was sagging, the foundation was nothing more than a few cement blocks at the corners. I was alone, without my cellphone, hardhat, or steel-toed boots.
I was on the far side of the building when I heard gravel turning and saw a cloud of dust rise up as a white pickup truck blew past. I was crouching close to the house at the time, so they didn’t see me. Afraid it was one of the workers, I ran off to the woods using the piles of logs and dirt for cover. I crouched in the woods, trying my best to take slow silent steps toward the border, but the forest floor was loud crunchy leaves. Thinking of what kind of trouble I could get in, ranging from being arrested to trespassing to being raped and murdered by a bunch of hicks, I really psyched myself out. I felt so paranoid, so I slinked off deep into the woods to a grassy area.
I lurked here for a while, taking pictures of birds and enjoying their chirping. But really I was listening to the occupants of the truck. I could hear faint voices. Then I heard chain-sawing, confirming my suspicion of them being actual workers. Eventually though I realize I can’t linger all day because I’m supposed to be on my way to Asheville already to be with my family for the holidays. I make my way back to the edge and crouch behind the orange plastic fence. Then I remember that I have a telephoto lens on my camera, which is perfect for spying on people. I take a few shots then zoom in on the LCD screen and am shocked. It looks like a woman. I snap another photo as two beings climb into one of the bulldozers. Another shock – one of them is a little preteen boy. Then I see the final sign – a dog! It’s not a crew of construction workers, but a family!
Feeling fooled, I brazenly emerge from the woods to resume my photography session. I no longer try to hide my presence, even as they drive the truck back up to the house and get out. I talk to the woman, apparently they had spotted the house from the I-40 bridge months ago, and were excited as they drove past with it exposed and had to stop to check it out. The woman thought it was a shame such a house was going to be bulldozed. My sentiments exactly. She pointed out an outhouse off the site at the border of the woods that I had completely missed. I had to contain my laughter, because I was practically standing right next to it when I was spying on them through my lens.
One can only imagine the history of a place like this. This was once somebody’s homestead. Probably surrounded by fields that returned to a forest after the property was abandoned. What was their life like? Where did they go? What will take its place?
Hope you enjoyed the results as much as I enjoyed the adventure!
Unfortunately all of my photos turned out super over-exposed, even though they looked fine in the viewfinder. I’ve got a lot of learning to do with this new camera – I feel like an elder! My old SLR was so easy to get the exposure right – just get the needle in the viewfinder perpendicular and it will be fine. But since the house was bulldozed before I returned from my trip, I have no second chance to take a better set of pictures. So instead of indefinitely hiding the pictures on my hard-drive due to embarrassment I am making an amateur effort at correcting the exposure in GIMP. And by correcting, I mean making them a little closer to the real color values that day. I am not a fan of photoshopping/post-editing, but sometimes you have to in order to do the subject justice. This house deserves a spotlight on the internet.
hugging you GOODBYE 