Even at dusk under the dull overcast sky the courthouse was a fine ruin. The August 11 fire was a blow but Sparta still stands.
I'm not a believer in ghosts yet Sparta haunts me. The empty houses had more to tell that I could bear.
There's a six block commercial district but not much commerce.
This town had it's heyday before the boll weevil. And what a heyday.
Now many of it's mansions are for sale.
Even the "little" houses stood proud.
They really know how to do porches.
This seemed to be waiting for its fire.
East Adams Street.
Graves Barn.
These amazing houses left us wondering about everything.
Do they have a future?
This one is tidy for now.
This one not.
Tidy.
Elegant but not tidy. Is this one wasting away?
This porch has a tilt.
Fresh paint.
Fresh porch.
There seemed to be another one around every corner.
And another one.
This one wasn't like the others. I spoke with the guy in the yard. "It's a house and it's for sale if you want to buy it."
We were snooping among the ruins. In the city, in Detroit they'd call this ghetto tourism.
Doomed on Maiden Lane?
The side of "Doomed" on Maiden Lane.
Every few minutes we caught the smell of pine rosin as a pole truck roared by the courthouse.