One day last week I was walking to the curb to bring in the trash cans. There was a guy stepping out of a muscle car. He looked at me and said he used to live in my house.
"How long ago?"
"About 50 years."
We walked around the yard. I explained changes we'd made and some of the history of ownership (as I understand it) since he'd left, and etc.This is, after all, a house which is over a 100 years old.
It was interesting hearing his memories of being a kid in the spaces I've come to know so well over the last 20 or so years. I hope that after I'm gone future inhabitants of this place that I love have similar encounters.
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hi tom, we've had the same thing happen to us too. a few years ago an elderly couple were in front of our house intensely looking in. our neighbor saw them first and asked if she could help them. the couple, brother and sister, told our neighbor that their grandmother lived in our house. with that our neighbor knocked on our door and introduced us. we took the siblings on a tour and they described how the house was when they were kids back in the 1950s. we spent a very pleasant hour or so with their memories. a few weeks later a letter arrived thanking us for allowing the siblings to tour our house along with a few photographs of our house when it was owned by their grandmother. our house, a california bungalow, was built in 1925. we consider ourselves not homeowners per se but home caretakers for those who come behind us.
ReplyDeleteWow oh wow. I love this.
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