Burning Down the House

Our old apartment building caught fire last weekend.  http://journalstar.com/news/local/crime-and-courts/article_70d11792-a625-5736-bc86-8395268f53c3.html

The fire was on the top floor, we lived on the first floor.  Monday I was in the area and drove by.  There isn’t any damage visible from the outside, and other than peeling paint, the house looks the same. It’s so funny, even with the bad things that happened there and all the house’s quirks I still love it!  The wood floors were dark and familiar (we used to have to pound nails back in), there were no electrical outlets in the bathroom, the windows leaked a TON of cold air, the shower had drain problems, the dining room ceiling leaked, there was only window air, the houses were stacked on top of each other and there were no temperatures marked on the oven knob… but it was a great house.  There was something about it.  Maybe it was because I have great memories from my son’s childhood associated with it.  Maybe it’s because I got out alive. 

The woman who lives in my old apartment had a tragedy right after she moved in.  Her boyfriend died in an accident at a lake that Ed liked to go to.  Even though the people who have had that building as their home are scarred on the inside, they look normal on the outside, just like the house.  Hopefully our landlord lands on his feet.  He’s a good guy with a heart of gold and we wouldn’t have made it without him either.

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