The Souls of Old Buildings

Empty build­ings have lots of sto­ries to tell. I like going through them to get a feel for what might have been their secrets. Some­day, I will find the per­son with the key to the old the­ater across the street from my office, and have an adven­ture. Many peo­ple have already told about some of their child­hood expe­ri­ences there. I am sure not all of those sto­ries need to be retold — cer­tainly not printed any­way.
Build­ings have per­son­al­ity. I like look­ing along their rooflines and down the alleys beside or behind them. That is where you will find the old­est paint and the out­lines of old signs. For a moment, it is 1900 or 1920. In this part of the South, it might just be 1820. Sher­man did not burn every­thing (though I am sure he tried…rotten fire­bug that he was).
Older cities, like Lon­don or Glas­gow, have even more intrigu­ing build­ings. There your imag­i­na­tion has to go back many hun­dreds of years. I have toured churches there that date back to the sixth and even third cen­turies AD. Build­ings are the result of human hands. A bit of soul is left behind with every brick laid. Scrip­ture is right at so many lev­els, “for our works fol­low us.”
The view across the street from Chester Dean’s is enough to be the enter­tain­ment for the hour of din­ing. Just let your mind wan­der a bit and gaze at the lines and details of those old struc­tures across the street. They have so many episodes to tell. I am rel­a­tively new to this town, but always at home when I take the time to pon­der the sto­ries of old brick and mor­tar. For a moment here and there you can tran­scend time itself. Just turn loose of the reigns of your soul and let it wan­der a bit.