The house I grew up in has been completely torn down in 3 days. While the damage from the fire on July 1st was repairable, the amount of time and money it would have taken to repair it and bring it up to code, did not seem practical. So, my parents have decided to tear it down and rebuild. I'm grateful I wasn't able to be there when they were actually knocking it down. I saw it before they started, and after it was a pile of rubble. Mom, the girls, and I went by in the afternoon and watched them scraping up and hauling away the rubble. Some tears were shed by all of us, so we decided we needed ice cream to help us deal with the raw emotions. When they took the foundation off, they discovered the basement walls and ceilings were not nearly thick enough to be safe. So, the basement will also be filled in.
I have so many memories from that house. It is the only house I'd ever lived in before going off to college. Sad to see it go, but looking forward to seeing their new house there in a few months.
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