But as the light grows dimmer

From atop of this hill it would seem something out of a postcard. It must have some sentimental value; the cars still park alongside the road every now and again to get one for the family photo album. They are just passing through this neck of the woods and took the 30 seconds from their trip to capture this old structure nestled in the hills of Red House, MD. Two-hundred years young and it's still worthy of a photograph. If only everything in this countryside aged that gracefully...

And on this peaceful autumn evening you could imagine that this old dinosaur was doing all right for herself, standing solid and tall as the sun descends behind the hills in my home town. A picture wouldn't suggest diminishing attendance, an aging congregation, a discouraging financial struggle, and a decade of pastors who just didn't give a damn about the good people of this community.

This is where my father went to church, and his father went to church, and his father before him. It's sad to know that in a matter of years this church is on the brink of vanishing altogether. Of course, this photo-worthy building will stand for many years to come. But Christianity 101 is that a church is not a building but a body of people. What I never thought would happen, or at least would never want to admit, is that all it will stand for is as a memorial to 220 years of faith and hope.

Faith...I owe it to lessons learned on the Sunday mornings of my childhood. But as the light grows dimmer the faith fades faster.

"And once your gone you can't come back, when you're out of the blue and into the black."

- Neil Young

Chrome To Dust: An American Tragedy

I don't know how they got there. I don't know where they came from. I am not even certain what make they are...or were. What I am sure about is that when these dinosaurs roamed the American roads, no one foresaw the decline of the American auto industry that is being seen today. Everyday the papers deliver more news on the collapse of an American industry and the desperation in Detroit.

It was the late Johnny Cash that said "Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose, In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes." I wish I could still believe that we are "doin' mighty fine." Like these rusty frames, it looks like the big three in Detroit are being swallowed into the ground.

I'm no expert; I dont know the entire story of how things got to this point. And I don't know how these old relics of a younger and healthier auto industry made it onto my Grandma's farm to be forgotten. What I do know is this story is of an American tragedy being written everyday before our very eyes. So when will the last page be written? We don't know the ending to this story either.

Every Picture Tells a Story...

Everyone knows that a picture tells a story. What many don't know is the story behind the taking of the picture, which can be just as interesting many times. This shot was taken around 9:30. The building is the old Red House Elementary School. The school shut down when I was in the fourth grade. All the kids were shipped to the newly-built and modern consolidated school closer to town. And so this old brick structure stands down the street from my house like an aging ghost; and we all know that old buildings take on a form of their own at night. They have since turned it into an antique mall and during the day the seniors will brush the dust off of old glass dishes in a building that used to be bustling with the restless energy only kids can have at the end of another school day.

I figured I would give her, this now-quiet building where my dad and his dad used look out the windows and wait for 3:00 o' clock, one last visit. And in the night the presence of this building brings back memories of days gone by. Part of me was left at that school.

And to everybody else, this picture will not mean anything. But to me, it will tell all the stories of my school days, of my first friends, my first day of education, and the gym teacher's lectures for acting up in lunch (had a few of those lectures). Towson University is a long ways down the way from a small brick school in the countryside. But I'll always keep the memories of this building close to me.