Town Barns

Few remain. Many have collapsed under the weight of their own frailty. Still others have been removed for outliving their usefulness or esthetic value. Town Barns we're talking about here...(or are we?)

Because society's infrastructure has encroached upon them, they are no longer esteemed as their iconic rural counterparts, which adorn calenders and invite passers-by to admire and even stop to do a "photo-op."

No, these centenarians receive only the occasional furtive glance with no thought of the stature they once held as the structural patriarchs of a past society, quite literally rooted and grounded in the husbandry of crops and animals.

If only they could speak...

If they could; if we would even make time to listen, with burgeoning pride and sentiment, they would recollect that, within their walls our ancestors once labored, children played, neighbors were fed, animals were housed, and God was worshipped.

This writer's interest in these all-but-forgotten heirlooms originates in his hometown in east-central Ohio. One-half block off Main Street stands a large brown barn with sandstone blocks for a foundation. Built in the 1840's, before the one-square mile township was even platted, this barn has served many generations with many purposes.

I like to think that this barn provided clandestine lodging for the hobos who rode the Steubenville and Indiana Railroad that ran not more than 100 yards away. This line became aptly known as the Panhandle Route. A tradition of feeding these transients who disembarked in the community has been personally verified. My great grandmother and her twin sister recounted to my siblings and me that they not only fed them, but painted a mark in the road in front of their house to announce that here they could get, at least, a sandwich and a helping of kindness.

In more recent generations, car enthusiasts in the 1960's worked inside on their GTO's, Camaros and Nova Super Sports. In fifth grade, while sitting on the steps leading to the loft, this writer became the recipient of his first-ever kiss.

Are we content to allow these defacto museums disappear from our communities? Or is there something that can be done to bolster their prominence and preserve them for posterity? Perhaps historical preservation societies could include them in their preservation campaigns. Private stakeholders could united with property owners to ensure their preservation.

But now let us turn from these aging relics and turn to something of greater significance. Did you perceive that many of the observations made about town barns are also true of our aging family members? Many have collapsed under the weight of their own frailty, while others have been removed because their "value" has been diminished. And I will tell you what they desire more than anything, and it is something that we can all give. They want to be heard. They would love to tell us what life was like in a simpler time, when the kids did play, and the neighbors were fed, and God was worshipped all within these same barns we've been talking about. So, if we make an effort toward preserving town barns and neglect our elders, then relatively little has been accomplished here. However, if our hearts are awakened and we make an effort toward bolstering our aging family members, then we have accomplished much here.