Change is a strange thing sometimes.
The nearby town where I work is on a bulldozing boom. One whole city block has been cleared so that this summer a sports complex can be built. It will be a good thing in the long run, will bring people together in an area where nothing much has happened in a long time. But I can still remember.....Cousins Brothers, it was kind of a hard ware store run but two old brothers whose last name was Cousins, weird, huh? It was THE place to get your old push mower fixed. 15 ft. ceilings made of stamped tin, now just a memory.
This morning I was cruising into town and saw this little white frame house next to the Divine Holiness Church being knocked down. It has sat empty for years, like a house I own. I made yet another note I need to do something about mine this summer before I get a notice from the city. I wondered if the church was going to put in a parking lot, which they don't currently have. Little house gone, my birthplace going back to open spaces at its heart. I was about go down memory lane when suddenly memory lane lept up and slapped me.
Up ahead on my right I saw something I had not seen since 1981. The National Business College had relocated out of the Jefferson Plaza, taking with them their sign that had for 27 years covered the painted bricks that must be a hundred years old: "Hotel Thomas Jefferson, Fireproof" I had to pull over and gaze at it, and as I did the a ghost passed me in a 1965 Plymouth Valiant. A grown woman and her baby brother, she was teaching him how to read by reading the signs they saw. That sign looked down on us both.