People die, houses are abandoned and time marches on. Each year the local memory fades and soon no one remembers.
I took the photo of George’s house because the details are starting to fade faster than the house is. We can drive past these old houses and don’t even notices them. A family lived here but now all are gone as are most of the facts.
I met George Johnson a few times but only knew a few facts. He was an elderly bachelor who lived alone and raised cattle. He did not own a car so drove his tractor the five or six miles to town when he needed anything. He was considered eccentric.
Then, when some time had passed I learned he loved to read and owned a lot of books. He was considered smart and had gone to university. I now regret I did not get to know him.
Later, I found out that in his youth he had left home to get a university education. At some point of time his father took ill and George was forced to come home and look after the farm. Eventually his mother took sick and died and George never did get the chance to go back to university and complete his education, nor did he ever marry.
While George was not a hermit he was a bachelor that kept to himself and seemed to struggle through life. When his house deteriorated to the point it was no longer livable his friends and neighbors got together and moved a livable house on the site so he could spend the latter years of his life with better roof over his head.
George eventually died and the property has remained vacant. The replacement house was moved off and used for some other purpose. The original old house remains as the only indication that this property once had a family living there. Someone new owns the property and it continues as a cattle pasture..
It seems sad to sum up a man’s life in half a dozen paragraphs.