Neighborly Demolition

I went for a run the other morning and saw something unusual. A man walked out of the front door of his home, carrying a houseplant in each arm. It was at first a common scene--a man carrying out the last of his belongings before moving.

But on the other side of the house, waiting for him to leave was this:


Two minutes after he walked off the premises, this piece of equipment tore off the roof. Neighbors came out of their homes to witness the demolition. According to Brian it was the topic of discussion at the bus stop. Given that the land was valued more than the house, it was being torn down to build something like this:

I headed home so Brian could get to work and thought I would come and check on the progress in a couple of hours. For sure, it would take them all day to knock that house down. When I returned two hours later, this was the condition of the house:

If you enlarge the picture, you’ll see that only the chimney is left standing as well as the far wall of the house (with blinds hanging off the window). And I couldn’t stop thinking about this poor house all day. I felt kind of sad about it. Tearing down older, smaller homes to build big, new ones is a common occurrence in our neighborhood, but seeing the house come down struck me. A 50+ year old house, full of almost a lifetime of memories was obliterated in a couple of hours. Perhaps children were raised there or a couple grew old there together. Why is it that destruction comes so easily—that it can be done in a tiny fraction of the time it takes to build? It seems unfair. In the meantime, we'll watch the progress of the new home being built--a sign of birth or rejuvenation, right? Something like that.