Out on a lengthy drive celebrating the long weekend, I spotted this place through the trees and decided to have a look. Noting that there was a house across the street with a clear view, I decided that it would be prudent to first make nice with the neighbours.
I pulled into the drive way, walked up to the door, knocked and waited. Presently, an older gentleman came to the door and I asked about the house across the street. He informed me that it used to be his, and that he grew up in it. Several generations of his family had apparently lived there, after immigrating from Ireland, his great grandfather having eloped with the boss's daughter.
After lengthy chat, I asked if anyone would mind my going over to take pictures. He said lots of people do, so there shouldn't be any problem. "The current owner is never around anyway", he told me.
With that, I bid farewell and headed across the street for a look around. The house was, as you can see, in rough shape, and little was left behind. I wondered what he felt seeing his childhood home in this condition, but thought better of asking. I suspect he was prepared for an all-day chat.