Snowflakes descend like a pall upon casketed remains
The wind whispers secrets amidst the years of decay
Together, hand in hand, we share this moment so serene
Totally enamoured by the words she said to me
On Pullman’s quad, across from the Florence Hotel, is this striking romanesque church, fittingly named for the color of its walls.
Methodist church in Gary, Autumn.
I’m coming to see the Methodist church in Gary, Indiana in a way not unlike a child might view its grandparent. Likely, your grandfather or -mother were already old when you first became aware of them. By the time you were in your teens or twenties, they were getting really old. And then you may have realized that they wouldn’t be around much longer. So it is with this church. We’ve been watching the decay progress for about six years now, but change is hard to see when it’s incremental. When a section of the roof fell in a few weeks ago, the change was stark.
The collapse does serve a purpose, vis-a-vis urbex: it is a memento mori of sorts, and a spur to to explore as much as one can, because it’s all coming down one way or another. And ours is not to question or get attached to ruins, but to document and create from them.
For some scenes from this church in recent years prior to the roof cave in, click here.
So I’ve already shared my first view of the piano that remained behind at a church quietly moldering away in a little neighborhood in Cleveland. Tabula Rasa gave a more comprehensive view in a later post and that got my competitive spirit going. So I went back into my files to see if I could produce something worthwhile to put him back in his place.
I will leave it to you all to decide if I have achieved my goal.
Bertrand Russell famously wrote an essay entitled “Why I Am Not a Christian“. Were I to offer a similar argument in the form of a photograph, the following could well be the result. For details on what the mural depicts, click here.
Pianos. They are everywhere we go. Too big and heavy to move, these instruments are usually left behind in schools, theaters, and, as is in this case, churches. They may be an enduring urbex trope, but one which I don’t see myself tiring of anytime soon. This from Cleveland last month.
You knew eventually we’d get around to the piano we found. Because there is always a piano.