The
timbers felt strong, even though the boards were fading from red to
gray. The tin roof had held up for decades, but even it was starting to
doubt its integrity.
The
weeds around the outside appeared to be holding the barn up, with so
many vines and creepers. The silent dust-mote interior spoke of cows,
hay, empty feed sacks, and hidden bottles.
How much longer can it stand? Even it doesn’t know.
Our old barn was built in the 1860s in Nebo, Illinois. In the 1950s, we raced and climbed in it, doing scary and dangerous things. So much fun. In the 1980s it was starting to sway so it had to be taken down. So sad. This photo is one taken in the 70s.
