The town where I went to high school, where Bill lived from fifth grade through graduation, is a ghost town. Complete with tumbleweeds and building ruins.
At one time the town of Eagle Mountain, CA, was a very active community of Kaiser Steel employees, those who ran the support businesses like grocery store, café and gas station, medical and school personnel, and all their families. When the mine closed in 1985 the population moved away and the ghosts started moving in.
Metropolitan Water District has five pumping stations between the Colorado River and Riverside, CA. My father worked at the Iron Mountain station about 45 miles away and I rode the bus to Eagle Mountain for school. Still, Eagle Mountain was the closest thing I had to a "home town", and it's demise impacts me as much as those who lived there.
In some ways I think it's better that the ghosts of our time have taken it over, rather than it being turned into some place completely different by others. Selfishly, I'm okay with the deteriorating high school lockers around the senior quad and the single goal post standing watch over a flat piece of desert where Bill once set high school football records. Even in it's absence, it is OUR school, OUR town.
There are fences and locks and other layers of security surrounding the mine and its town, but occasionally one or some of "us" are granted access.
These photos are from a couple of those visits. They seem appropriate in black and white, and wrap up the B&W photo challenge for me.
|No more lawns and trees and tricycles|
|No more events at the school amphitheater|
|No more scores in the gym|
|No more field or bleachers or games|
Regardless of its current state, we will always remember our home town in full and living color.