Prologue
It was 2011, a cold but persistent day with bouts of sun and a chill lingering in the air. The downtown was magnanimous but desolate. Huge art deco buildings erected by a bygone generation of American prosperity stood with lingering shadows in what could be a bustling downtown scene, but there walked no man.
Nor should there be anyone in an era of post decadence,
littered with the indecency of the America brought to fruition from the backs of all these hard working men and women, but still the generations following became consumed by savings, suckling at the breasts of big boxes and competitive dealers all over the internet.
I think it drew us to this fine city, the lasting impressions of salt box houses peppering the jilted hillsides. It was as if this place called to a generation of us who were told we didn’t work hard enough or save our cash so we were undeserving of homes. But here in the rain we live along the creases of the once working industrial hub of this post mortem America.
