Wednesday, May 7, 2014
My house is going up for public auction. Well . . . it's not exactly my house anymore. I sold it years ago to move out into the woods. I'm not even sure who the last owner was.
My lovely wife and I have fond memories of the place. We lived there with our three daughters when they were little. There were other young families in the neighborhood. We looked after each other's kids. There were even neighborhood parties. Back then we all had pretty solid lower middle class jobs.
People expected things to gradually keep getting better. In the late 80s I had a chance to buy my place in the woods. It took 14 months, but eventually I was able to sell the house in town. The local housing market had collapsed, but nobody had noticed yet. After 6 months it occurred to people that that no one was selling their house for what they thought it was worth.
The mill closed and the good factory jobs went away. Families had a lot more stress. We hadn't moved all that far so we ran into the old crowd from time to time. The town lost population and things slowly got progressively more difficult over the years.
Now the place is up for auction. It's probably a good thing I don't have any money to spare. I'd be tempted to do something foolish and bid on the place. I've no idea what I'd do with it, but it was a solid old house. My lovely wife and I put a lot of work in it over the years. Of course, there's no telling what the place is like now.
It is an odd feeling to see a place that we valued going up for auction. Things fall apart.