Reflections on Abandoned Houses

 

 Abandoned House, Armuchee Valley, Georgia

Blog Note: I'm kinda busy this week. I bought Louise a three-wheel bike for her birthday. It arrived Monday. Unfortunately, it came in a big box with the three most frightening words in the English language:  "Some Assembly Required," which turned out to be All Assembly required! I have it mostly put together, but I'm still trying to figure out the derailleur (gear shifter). So I'm reposting a piece I especially like from 2022.

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Exploring northwest Georgia's Amurchee Valley some years ago in an area where Walker County and Chatooga Counties join, I found a house sitting empty, doors unlocked, furniture still in place, even tools still hanging on the shed wall. Some old couple had passed away, probably, or one or both had gone to a nursing home, leaving no family or anyone who cared about the property. I've found this to be unfortunately common in rural America.

A recurring theme in my photographic work is abandonment. As my artist's statement on the  left side of this blog says, "My domain is the old, the odd, and the ordinary; the beautiful, the abandoned, and the about to vanish away."

So often in my ramblings around the countryside I find things that once were full of life but now lie abandoned and desolate. Old houses, old cars, old churches, old barns, old mills: for no reason I've ever been able to understand, I'm drawn to them. 

The Frank Inman house, Martin Co., IN after Frank died and the family left.

In a way, these photographs are about life. Or more accurately, the brevity of it. Have you ever noticed that a house, no matter how ramshackle, seems to hold together as long as someone lives in it? And how quickly even a fairly substantial house can go down when it's empty? When we moved into McLemore Cove, there was an empty house just off Cove Road that had been recently occupied and appeared reasonably sound. Within a relatively few years of emptiness it had collapsed and rotted away, leaving only a weed-covered foundation.

Not to be morbid, but life is short. I can tell you from personal experience that even a long life is short. A good reminder to, as the Bible says, "set our minds on things above."

Visit my online gallery at https://davejenkins.pixels.com/  

Signed copies of my book Backroads and Byways of Georgia are available. The price is $22.95 plus $3.95 shipping. My PayPal address is djphoto@vol.com (which is also my email). Or you can mail a check to 8943 Wesley Place, Knoxville, TN 37922. Include your address and tell me how you would like your book inscribed.

Photography and text copyright 19722-2025 David B.Jenkins.

I post Monday, Wednesday, and Friday unless life gets in the way.

Soli Gloria Deo -- For the glory of God alone.

Tags:   photography     brevity of life     abandonment     northwest Georgia    Indiana     Martin County, IN    old houses