Hubby and I spent the past five days visiting our farmhouse
and my hometown area.
It had been a couple of years since we had been there.
We knew the house was decayed by the water
and it had been broken into by locals.
However, it was far worse than we expected.
There’s nothing we can do about the elements, the water, and the wind.
It’s the humans that are breaking my heart.
If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you remember that our home
was built by our Great Grandfather, Andrew Kirkeide.
It was loved and lived in by several generations.
And then this happened.
The flood waters of Devils Lake swallowed up farmland,
the county roads, the trees, the yards, the gardens, and the homes.
We could not reach the house for years.
My mother took such good care of the house, having it painted
every few years and repairing the red shingles on the roof.
A few years ago, when the water receded, we went back to visit the house.
The first thing we noticed was that a group had discovered
our yard as a secluded place to party.
With most of the roads under water, they had to be locals,
as there was only one way to get back in there.
They used broken pallets to build a ring of fire…
And they made themselves quite comfy.
Then the next time we visited, the door was ajar, they had broken
a small window to get in. Of course, we nailed that door shut,
and locked all the others.
But the following year, we found all the windows had been shot out.
The house was filled with broken glass, birds, and their droppings.
Everything was exposed to the wind, the rain, and the snow.
Our daughters remind me to focus on my warm memories.
The stories my grandfather told,
the shenanigans that my aunt and her cousin got into,
and my growing up years, playing with my own cousins.
Of course, our girls remember all the fun they had
when we went to visit Grammy.
There was a charming bay window in the dining room,
with a radiator nestled in that cove.
In the winter, one did not come inside without sitting there,
on the radiator first, to warm up.
This is what it looks like now.
The windows have been shot out.
The ruffled sheer drapes are just blowing in the wind.
That window pane on the top of each section was etched.
We had every intention of bring the necessary tools to save that glass.
Instead, someone else got five minutes of pleasure by destroying them.
To the left of the dining room was the kitchen.
This is my Aunt Enid, my Mother, and my Aunt Fern.
They could always have fun together, even washing dishes…
And they’d sing all the oldies in three part harmony as they worked.
And now it looks like this.
We also had good intentions of bringing those cabinets back
for storage in our garage.
To the people that go exploring in abandoned houses—
This is Invasive.
This is Disrespectful.
This is trespassing and malicious destruction
of a family’s personal property.
This is my first day report.
I felt sad, I felt sick sick, I was hurt,
disgusted, frustrated, disappointed, angry.
It was enough for one day.
We went back to the hotel to clean up and
go out for a bite to eat.
I’ll be back to share more about what has been stolen.