In the panhandle of Texas (and some other areas of the Southwest), I drove through towns where it was hard to tell which businesses were open and which had been long abandoned- both were crumbling to the ground. Towns looked like salvage yards, with buildings sagging, barns collapsing, metal water tanks disintegrating. A vintage pickup truck, the paint long gone, the body pure rust, might be settled on someone’s front lawn. The photographer in me itched to jump out and take pictures, but I wasn’t going to treat people’s homes and yards like a freak show. And I didn’t want to get shot.
I’ve seen plenty of areas around the country that look like scrapyards- houses dirty and in need of repair, yards like trash heaps, sometimes graced with the classic toilet-bowl-turned-flowerpot outdoor decor. Although run-down, the houses still look inhabited. There’s something about the arid landscape of the Southwest that made those Texas cities look like ghost towns. Like not only had a few boards disappeared from the shed, and the paint had flaked off the Studebaker, but even the plants had left town. Part of the shock was seeing people running errands and going about their day in what looked to be a ghost town or movie set.
I also noticed that people there seemed especially nice. It was refreshing to think that whoever lived there must not waste much concern over appearances or keeping up with the Joneses. Unless there was competition around owning the rustiest vintage car.