Monday, April 8, 2013

Moving On

Since I was but five years of age, less a day, when we moved from Bladen, I do not have a large store of memories of the place.  In fact, I have pretty much exhausted that store in sharing these few articles about our time there.  So I am concluding the series with a few photos which were taken on my last visit a couple years ago.

Welcome as one enters town from the south.

The U.S. Post Office, Bladen, Nebraska

Mrs. Anderson's home, which I deemed to be a mansion, but unlike

the parsonage where we lived, which is still occupied and lovingly maintained.

Across the street from the parsonage was the church.  The building had a steeper pitched roof, a bell tower and steeple back in the '30s.  Clearly the building has been repurposed, then neglected.


Shelly said...

What a thought-provoking thing to look at old buildings and reach down into the memory banks. Glad the parsonage is still being maintained~

Anonymous said...

A rather desolate place -

Secondary Roads said...

In our lifetime, we have seen many things repurposed. Sometimes it works well bringing new and extended life.

vanilla said...

Shelly, a while back, my sister who was born in that parsonage met and talked with the current occupants. They were delighted to meet someone from their home's older day!

Grace, and miles to nowhere. Actually, less than twenty miles from Willa Cather's hometown.

Chuck, I like it when a plan comes together and an old structure continues to serve.

Sharkbytes said...

I always think it's sad to go back and find things so changed. I love that PO building, though.

Lin said...

They look so tiny--and I didn't even grow up there! ;)

vanilla said...

Shark, 13 years ago the PO in the town where I was born was still operating. Four years ago it was empty and the roof was caving in.

Lin, perhaps I simply grew up in a smaller world?

Vee said...

It makes me rather sad that this town of my birth is close to dead. Not even a grocery store anymore.

I have a picture of the beautiful old church. Too bad it was turned into a storage shed. It is owned by the man who now owns the home where I was born.