Story of the Little House, Part 2

They scooped up the big pile of trash that was once this house, dropped the scoops into the skippers, hauled them away, and now there is bare earth. I watched it happen, and yet it's hard to believe my eyes when I look across the street.

Before they began the scooping, I did a strange thing. I pulled on a sweater, walked across the street, and tip-toed to the edge of the mess. Bricks, mostly, and other things so shedded that I couldn't tell what they were. Also: a deeply dented metal pot, the remains of a piece of wooden furniture, a coil from a stove burner, a completely intact white ceramic mug. And, right near my feet, a small bundle of greeting cards bound with a rubber band. They were dirty, but perfectly sound. I picked them up and hurried home.

I didn't look at them for a while. They were a collection of Christmas cards, and as one was dated 1988, I presumed they all were. What I learned:

- My former neighbor's name was Carmen Wilkenson.

- She had been a teacher. I think a loved teacher, as many students (perhaps late elementary age?) gave her cards.

- She was close to retirement in '88, as her well-wishers wanted to know if this were the year or not.

- She had some health difficulties that were a worry to her friends.

- She had some family in Texas.

I told my friend, Paula Birkenstock, about all this. She asked if I'd googled the name, Carmen Wilkenson. I think that's a great idea. Tune in next time to find out what I find out....