Farewell to the white house on Homestead | AspenTimes.com

Farewell to the white house on Homestead

I still remember, as a toddler, attending the Methodist church in old town Basalt. I remember pulling the long thick cord and hearing the bells chime above. Now it’s a house. I still live in Basalt and each day I walk my dog on Homestead Drive. I pick up his every poop. There was an old white house up the street from the church, and its weathered character picked up the feel of any weather or season. It was creepy on a windy dark night, homey in the summer sun, cozy during a snow storm. It was demolished, without a word, a couple months ago. I was gone at the time, and upon returning found only the immaculate native stone foundation. Then that too was gone. All that remains is a sloping dirt lot, and another gaping hole in the town I grew up in.

Tait Andersen