Since February of 1989, this little farmhouse nestled in the heart of Wisconsin has been left in complete solitude to crumble and decay away. Without a single town in miles and few neighbors in sight, the farmhouse has truly managed to remain a time capsule of belongings and memories.
A house with so much visible history makes it hard to understand how so many personal artifacts can be left to nothing more than the cold hands of time. Is it possible to love something so much, we would rather see it rot than belong to someone else? Or do we simply see so much value in the things we love that we forget how meaningless they can be when left in the hands of a stranger.
On the other side, maybe I am being too romantic. While I like to think of love and laughter once filling these walls, I know that some places deserve nothing more than to be forgotten and left to rot. Not every piece of the past deserves to be remembered in the future. There are some parts of my own life that I have pushed into the dark recesses of my mind, hoping they will slowly rot away until they are nothing more than a dark whisper.
We will probably never know what this house truly was or what it meant to the people that once inhabited it, but it doesn’t really matter anyway. The fact is, it is there. Whether it left a beautiful or dark mark on the world, it has simply refused to be forgotten by a world that is trying to fade it away.