But it’s co-ed inside. Or it was when it was a school, which was at least 40 years ago. This is how it was looking back in the mid 1980’s, decrepit and forlorn. It was changed soon after into condos, which must get great light through those windows. The BOYS ENTRANCE is on the opposite end, and the main entrance stairs which say neither boys or girls, and maybe were for parents and official visitors only. Or possibly boys or girls in the singular could enter there. It is a curious thing. I found this old photo in a stack I was sorting and tossing, the negative must be somewhere very safe, as I couldn’t find it. Perhaps it will turn up someday, an odd bit of historical imagery.
The barn sits on 90 acres, the hard used rental that sits across the road is all boarded up. The logging trailers sit beside it. The highway is but a stone’s throw away. I think we can all guess the future of this barn is looking grim. From the street side it looks like a regular old barn, a bit worn maybe, but sturdy. Once I saw the boarded up house I made a point to stop so I could take a closer look at the barn. And I wasn’t disappointed when I peeked in through a gap in the door.
I was blown away at the space and light. What a work of art in its own right. There is no house that could be built here that could rival this structure.
The final sweeping out of this house occurred about 15 years ago. It has sat empty ever since, for sale and sale pending several times. There is a feeling of the building holding its breath as it awaits what is to come. Waiting to see in anyone will inhabit these rooms even as commercial space of some sort. The whole 40+ acres is due to become part of an artisan village, so maybe the building will be reused. The bones are good, the 1960’s and 70’s updates not so much. Time will tell whether or not it is reused or leveled. I always cringe a bit the occasional times I drive past it, half afraid I will see rubble.
After the surprise loss, though maybe not wholly unexpected, of the dispatch and fire station on Elm St. It seems likely this one will be next. I have heard it is to be torn down as no one is interested in converting it to anything else. It does sit right on the edge of the road as would be normal for a fire station. The intersection and area is not too great. There is no land out back as the building drops down another level to a parking area between 2 other buildings, which it is likely the footprint will add to. Still it is hard to see it go, and the imagination can run wild with redesign ideas for it. It does have potential were it only somewhere else. Such is the evolution of a city.
Not just the doorknob, or the door, but the whole building.
There one week and gone the next.
Not so much as a bit of debris left to let a passerby know what once was there.
Luckily I took a bunch of photos of it. I would have liked to have had a peek inside, but no such luck. Sad to say it probably all went to a landfill, and the empty lot will likely attract trash dumpers pretty soon.
How long has it been since a horse was hitched here to graze a bit while the rider was elsewhere? It’s just a small, collapsing barn a stone’s throw from the old house, perfect for company to tie up when stopping in the dooryard for a visit. Who knows how long this barn will stand, or when I will pass by it again. Years of weather have done their work on the old wood and metal. It was the overload of texture that caught my eye while I poked around the old buildings. I miss getting out and about regularly and wandering among the derelict, the forgotten and the long abandoned structures, both urban and rural.