Relic

I bought this old postcard online, outbidding someone who is apparently even cheaper than I am. I think I paid the outrageous sum of about $3.75 - which is about $3.50 more than my usual price range (though I've been known to spend as much as a dollar - if for some strange reason I'm feeling particularly sentimental).

I bought it because this is a place Sam and I will drive past, maybe half a dozen times a year. 

I think the place has been closed for most, if not all of Sam's life. But years ago, it was still in pretty good shape and every time we would drive past, Sam or I (mostly me) would comment on what a shame it was to see it sitting empty. 

Now, the last several years when we drive past, we comment on how sad it is to see it unattended and falling into disrepair. 

Seeing empty places like this makes me sad (like here, for example) - not only because, as in this case, the architecture was so unique (I'm a sucker for Art Deco), but I find myself thinking about the nameless former owners; people who likely invested their time and their hopes and their dreams in a place like this. 

And I think about the long-ago customers who may have found this place to be special. Maybe it held fond memories of family get-togethers or other special occasions. Maybe someone shared a date with someone that was special to them. Or maybe it just held memories of an earlier time in their life.

At least it had a good run. The postcard is marked 'September 30th, 1940' and the note on the back says, 'Had a special luncheon. So far a very good trip'. 

I'm glad they enjoyed it.