I grew up in a family that valued, among other things, family history and traditions.  Out of this, grew an intense interest in all family histories, and the remains of old homes that had sheltered these families and have now been abandoned.  Whenever I find an old abandoned house I always wonder about the young people who, probably, started a home in this place with high expectations about their future.  I picture them having children and raising these children to, hopefully, be good citizens and hard workers.  Some of these children probably stayed in, or near, the ‘homeplace’ and raised their own families.  But eventually the older family members died and the children started moving to other places, perhaps due to employment needs or simply because they wanted to see other parts of the world.  And eventually, the home became an abandoned house containing a few fragments of what had been part of what I hope was a warm and loving family.

Whenever, I come upon one of these abandoned homes, I carefully photograph it from all perspectives in a attempt to preserve some of the past.