The garage roof collapsed a few years ago. The owner refused to demolish it because she said she had installed a new garage door opener before the roof collapsed and she wanted to take it back out; also, there was supposedly a cherished family boat of some kind in there, but it was too large to go out through the side door, so she wanted the garage left alone until a solution presented itself. Various wildlife moved in and lived, loved, fought, and died in and around the ruined garage over the years. Wood rotted, disturbing weeds emerged, bits of roof would occasionally land in our yard. The city condemned it but the wheels turned very slowly, in part because somebody else’s vintage Packard auto was parked in front of the garage and there was no alley access to perform the demo, and the house went in and out and back into foreclosure, so I think the city was also hoping the problem would solve itself.

Then, last week, a demo crew from Streets and San showed up. It was time. (2/4)

I went out to watch the demolition and, since the crew was amenable, to grab anything that might have sentimental value to the owner between trips by the backhoe. The door came down and the interior was exposed. After five years of rain, sun, heat, and snow, very little in the garage was still recognizable in its original form. There were some photo albums in a moldy but intact antique suitcase, so those were saved. Lots of ruined watercolors by the owner’s father, a (deceased) professional illustrator, and some accounting ledgers from the 1950s, all hopeless. But the cherished family boat did emerge — a plastic kayak — so we pulled it out of there and set it aside in the yard. Almost nothing else was recognizable, just piles that used to be wood or twisted and rusted pieces of metal. Pretty grim.

But then, near the back of the garage, when the demolition was almost complete, something came into view. It had no protection whatsoever. And yet, there it was, intact. (3/4)