Wednesday, November 9, 2016

The Ruined Business

A long time ago when I was about 12, I recall my parents had made a decision to start their own business. Looking back now, I realize of course just how young they actually were. My father was a skilled carpet layer who was taught the trade by his father before him, who had made a fortune on it in the 40's. But that's another tale.

The business started off well-enough I suppose. I hardly saw them anymore... especially my father who was constantly working. Eventually the business grew from a room in an apartment to a 'CostCo-sized' warehouse where bales and bales of carpeting arrived daily. Soon my dad hired men to help him, but these so called 'helpers' just took advantage of their hourly wages by sitting around wasting time instead of being paid by the job. This was their first mistake.

Others included hiring family to 'do the books' which proved catastrophic when they were audited. So while my poor father was working to the bone, coming in late and tired with crippled knees and calloused hands, there was trouble brewing in the front office. Then it happened, a call came late one night from the police, who had said the warehouse was broken into and most of the carpeting for the next week's jobs were gone. They never did figure out who it was.

Then there came a knock on the door and a large, burly man asked me for the keys for my mother's car. He didn't take no for an answer, and despite my best efforts within 5 minutes my mom's car was gone. Eventually they lost their business.

I never actually saw my father cry, but I heard him one night. It was the worst sound I ever heard...

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Since then, I was haunted by the sadness of closing businesses...



It was almost nightfall, on a cold, rainy night.  Up ahead just off Taunton Rd was a sign which read, "Maple Lane Nurseries".  Normally I would have kept going, but I was compelled to stop and take a closer look.

The picture I took of the cable fence, which I call, 'lockout' is symbolic (this would come to be my favorite of all the shots taken here).  I slowly moved my way in setting up my tripod, and my bracketing settings on the camera.  This I knew would be crucial for the HDR settings I had already decided to use on this collection of shots.   One by one, I saw the gloom, and the ruins of broken dreams.  From the broken windows and empty cash registers to the doorways swung open letting out the ghosts of dreams gone by.

Such beautiful things here, even in the chaotic ruins, I could imagine seeing the sun shining down on kept lawns, adorned with potted plants and immaculate greenhouses filled with flora of every imaginable color.


As I made my way around the back of one of the sheds, I saw a broken shed-like dwelling.  The wild flowers over-powered the front lawn and the bike that lay on its side brought memories back of when I was a child.  You know when businesses fail, it isn't just about the money.  It affects everyone in the family.  It can leave an impact on the kids too.  Everyone loses.

It took me a while before I decided to do something with these pictures, but I've decided to devote a blog in honor of my dad who worked his whole life for us, and even though he may think that he never quite made it there, in my mind and heart he taught me so much more than money can buy.


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