Blog Archives
gone to the dogs
There was only one reason I came here: I wanted to see what a place called “Nimrod” looked like. Mostly it looked like a church and a cemetery.
But there was this abandoned building; the sign over the door was illegible, so I don’t know what it was. But it was something related to dogs, and to trophies of dogs, and even a dog mural. Somehow these context clues made more mysterious.
Nimrod, Texas
photographed 8.7.2022
if you have a complaint
That little sign in the window says, “If you have a complaint…”
The woman I met just down the block had plenty of complaints. She started our conversation by saying, “Can I hep yew?” in a way that made it clear that what she really want to “hep” me do was leave. But then she got to talking (as we say in Texas) and I learned some things:
- There are “about” 58 people in Putnam
- She’s 66 and her husband is 68 and they are the youngest people in town.
- She hates living in Putnam. Just hates it. Always has.
- Her dream is to move to Abilene.
- People in Putnam are mean. They won’t talk to you.
- She hates it there.
- Everyone moved there just to be left alone.
- She just hates it.
It was hard to see an end to the conversation – once she got started she definitely warmed to her topic! – so I wished her a good day and told her that I hoped her dream of moving to Abilene came true. She said, “Oh I cain’t move until my husband dies. He ain’t leavin’ here.”
And ever since then, I’ve worried about her husband’s long-term life expectancy. If you know what I mean.
Putnam, Texas
photographed 8.7.2022
…and the walls came down, 3
I spent the hour I had to fill up walking around the collapsed church wall, taking photos and getting a little bit teary thinking of how one of the things I’d come to count on seeing in Santa Rosa was just…gone.
I presume that the thunderstorm’s winds the afternoon before had pushed those walls down, so that meant they were only standing for an hour or so after I saw them leaning away from the rest of the building.
The thing is that people drove by while I was there and no one stopped or slowed down or even (as far as I could tell) glanced over to see what had happened. It hurt my feelings, which is sort of ridiculous and also made perfect sense.
Now I am worried that by the time I get back over there, the other three walls will be down, too.
Saint Rose of Lima Cemetery
Santa Rosa, New Mexico
photographed 7.31.2022
…and the walls came down, 2
I’ve been here many times, so many times that I nearly didn’t go on this particular day. I had an hour or so to wander and without making a conscious decision to go back, I found myself making the turn from Lake Drive to South 3rd Street.
I was a half-block away when I saw the devastation. It quite literally took my breath away. And it illustrates why going back to a familiar location is not a bad idea: even if you think you know what’s there, you may be surprised.
Saint Rose of Lima Cemetery
Santa Rosa, New Mexico
photographed 7.31.2022
…and the walls came down, 1
On Saturday, July 20, 2022, at about three o’clock in the afternoon, I saw this church building. The north wall was leaning out a little more than it had been on my previous stop.
About an hour later, a thunderstorm came through town, bringing heavy rain and strong winds. By six o’clock, the storm had passed and clear skies had returned.
And then, the next morning, that wall was all the way down.
Saint Rose of Lima Cemetery
Santa Rosa, New Mexico
photographed 7.31.2022
One Day | One Image 