It Was In Our Hands
As we travel around we come across abandoned homes throughout the country and are always intrigued by them. Exploring and photographing them often evokes a sense of sadness. What happened? Why was the house abandoned? Who lived there? Sometimes we find a stray letter or some small indication of who the the previous inhabitants were but more often we find objects strewn about in disarray that tell only what material connection they had to the world. Objects, that are now separated from the people who used and often cared about them. Like the houses they are contained in they evoke a sense of loss.
Carrying that sense of loss a little further we are reminded of the impact we humans have on the health of our planet. Will we survive the success we have as ever-populating humans at altering our entire planet’s landscape and environment? Are we smart enough to change the behaviors we engage in that are truly destructive? Can we reverse the changes we have made that are clearly effecting us?
Carrying that sense of loss a little further we are reminded of the impact we humans have on the health of our planet. Will we survive the success we have as ever-populating humans at altering our entire planet’s landscape and environment? Are we smart enough to change the behaviors we engage in that are truly destructive? Can we reverse the changes we have made that are clearly effecting us?
Falling Houses Series - An Ongoing Project
|
|
Nothing Remains
This photo and the images below were taken at an abandoned house with a curious story.
In the 1980’s the couple who lived there, two women, disappeared. They were the owners of the house and the adjacent land which they farmed. A few locals claimed they had moved to somewhere in Ohio. Attempts to find them were never successful. They took nothing with them, even the clothes in their closets were all still there. Unopened mail was sitting on a desk in the living room. The piano had handwritten sheet music sitting ready for a performance.
As time went by the house began to deteriorate and was eventually broken into by local teenagers.
At some point a local farmer told me about the house and with his story in mind and real anticipation I went there. It was almost exactly as he described it albeit with some obvious vandalism. As I walked around to the back of the house I saw the back door was open. I stepped in to find the kitchen left in a state that appeared the owner would return at any moment. The kitchen table was set for four. Pots and pans were on the stove. An apron was draped over the back of a chair. Who were those forgotten expected guests in this silent abandoned house?
A sudden rustling sound in the next room startled me and I cautiously peered around the doorway into the living room. A crow was sitting on the sill of a small broken window and quickly flew off as I approached. While everything was dust covered the house was for the most part fully intact.
Over the course of a few years I went back each season to photograph the decline of the home and the destructive results of ongoing teenage angst. Each time I went the deterioration was obvious and I was struck by a sense of real sadness at what I saw, a life stopped and crumbling. To this date no one has ever discovered what happened to the owners. Eventually the vandals burned the house down. Nothing remains.
In the 1980’s the couple who lived there, two women, disappeared. They were the owners of the house and the adjacent land which they farmed. A few locals claimed they had moved to somewhere in Ohio. Attempts to find them were never successful. They took nothing with them, even the clothes in their closets were all still there. Unopened mail was sitting on a desk in the living room. The piano had handwritten sheet music sitting ready for a performance.
As time went by the house began to deteriorate and was eventually broken into by local teenagers.
At some point a local farmer told me about the house and with his story in mind and real anticipation I went there. It was almost exactly as he described it albeit with some obvious vandalism. As I walked around to the back of the house I saw the back door was open. I stepped in to find the kitchen left in a state that appeared the owner would return at any moment. The kitchen table was set for four. Pots and pans were on the stove. An apron was draped over the back of a chair. Who were those forgotten expected guests in this silent abandoned house?
A sudden rustling sound in the next room startled me and I cautiously peered around the doorway into the living room. A crow was sitting on the sill of a small broken window and quickly flew off as I approached. While everything was dust covered the house was for the most part fully intact.
Over the course of a few years I went back each season to photograph the decline of the home and the destructive results of ongoing teenage angst. Each time I went the deterioration was obvious and I was struck by a sense of real sadness at what I saw, a life stopped and crumbling. To this date no one has ever discovered what happened to the owners. Eventually the vandals burned the house down. Nothing remains.
