talking walls

I've always been fascinated by the history of a place, old buildings in particular. They must be full of secrets, stories. If only walls could talk. I've often wished they could.

Durham is full of untold stories. The city was made successful by the booming tobacco industry in the late 1800s, early 1900s, particulary so by a gentleman named Washington Duke (the founder of what later beame Duke University). As the tobacco industry boomed, so did the population. And Durham became the most successful African American community in America. Martin Luther King, Jr. made several visits, as evidenced by the many streets named after him.

Every Friday, I pick up my paycheck in downtown Durham. Yesterday, Jess came with me and we took a walk through town, with the camera, of course. We took turns taking shots, just strolling around, enjoying the incredible weather. The town is still reminiscent of the early 1900s, with many original buildings in various states of decay or renovation. Currently there are multiple pushes to rennovate and preserve downtown. In recent years, it has become more of a crime mecca than a cultural center, and the locals are looking to bring Durham back.

Our favorite find was an abandoned steel and welding factory. It appears as if one day they threw in the towel and literally walked away from their work. Pipes and steel sheets are waiting for welding, although layers of rust and decay are evidence that they've been left for good. An old car from the 1940s (however, its stickers indicate that it was last registered in 1985) was particularly interesting to me. Incredibly resilient, yet nature had taken its toll and literally grown up through the engine, vines creeping into the car through the open door.

If walls could talk. Or rusty old cars.