I’m not sure why I’m fascinated by things that aren’t around any longer. I guess it’s the stories that will go untold about the people and events that took place either in our time while we weren’t looking, or in another time that didn’t include us. An abandoned house, a shuttered factory, chimneys with no house and especially steps. Gainesville is littered with steps that lead only to yesterday.
In my walks and runs around town, I spot them here and there. There’s a really nice set on Green Street by the Hall County Education Building. There are a couple more on Bradford on both sides of the street just north of downtown. One in particular leads to an almost empty lot. Almost. These steps lead to a concrete walkway that used to lead to a house. Now all that’s left are two chimneys. I often wonder what dreams and disasters were shared within the walls that used to stand. What celebrations took place and what losses were grieved? I can only speculate.
I call it “urban archeology”. It’s the closest thing I’ll ever come to the real thing. The challenge of learning what was by what has been left behind is captivating. I’ve often wanted to do a book featuring the “steps of North Georgia” with photographs of the steps as they are today--hiding behind weeds and ivy-- on one page and photographs of the buildings they once fronted on the other. Alas, organizing my sock drawer takes most of my time.
Of course you don’t need steps or even chimneys to tell you where people used to live. Empty lots in a city where trees grow in an odd pattern likely shaded a home at one time. Most of the trees were cut to accommodate the house. Just a few hardwoods were left to provide shade. Walking the lot you soon see ground that’s a little too level indicating a building’s footprint. You’re likely to spot a brick or glass fragment here or there in the weeds. Perhaps you spot a plant or two out of place, like the camellias at one end of Wilshire Trials. They used to hug the corner of a small home there. Look closer and you’ll see a little gravel in the grass where the driveway was. There’s also a rock grouping that used to be a planting area for flowers.
We have in our home a pie safe that has a good bit of age on it. It’s put together with pegs rather than nails. The hand-stamped tin on the doors and sides is all original and in good shape. It often causes me to speculate about the person who made it and the food it once held on a daily basis. And why it was abandoned?
My father was a revenuer stalking bootleggers in the woods when he came across the abandoned home where the safe was collecting dust and harboring someone’s memories of better days. He told me the house was over grown and had obviously been empty for years. But aside from dust and the evidence of a few critters, the interior of the home didn’t appear to have changed since the day its inhabitants left. There was even a hat on the bed giving the impression that someone just walked out one day and never returned. While I wonder about that old pie safe, I also wonder about why the folks left. Did they have to leave? Did the resident become ill and die in the hospital with no family to care about the house?
My wife has tried to use my interest in archeology (even if it’s speculative) to her advantage. She tells me not to think of it as yard work when planting a tree or digging up stumps. But rather a chance to discover evidence of some past civilization. Unless King Tut had a summer home in North Georgia, I don’t think I’ll come up with much more than a sore back.
I’ll keep you posted. Until then, look around. You never know where you’ll spot yesterday.
