The White House

No, not that White House. This is a white house near my home.

I first noticed this house about twenty five years ago when I moved into this neighborhood. You CAN’T miss this house.

It’s huge. It’s white. It’s two stories. I believe it’s on the list of National Historic Homes. It’s got massive columns in the front. It sits on an angle on a corner lot. And last but not least, it resembles Tara from Gone With the Wind.

I notice things in my neighborhood and the surrounding area. You could say I’m my own little neighborhood watch program. As a lot of people have today, I have cameras on the front and back of my house. It’s important to know what’s going on for the safety of my family and neighborhood.

Back to the white house. About fifteen years ago it went up for sale. I so desperately wanted to go through it just to see what this magnificent structure looked like inside. For whatever reason, I missed any open houses and it sold quickly.

Prior to the house selling, the house looked lifeless. There were never any inside or outside lights on. There were never Christmas decorations outdoors and believe me, with those massive columns on the front porch, I had decorated that house in my head a hundred times.

When the house sold I was happy there was going to be a new family moving in to breathe life back into this stately home.

I know someone lives there because there are cars in the driveway. The original garage is what might have been called a carriage house back in the day and is suitable for only one car. There is a fire pit in the back yard with chairs around it.

The first year I saw a guy scraping the paint off of one side of the house. Then he repainted it white. The next two years were spent scraping and painting the front of the house. The following two years were spent scraping and painting the back of the house. The following year the final side of the house got some attention.

Since then, about a half-dozen years later, it’s been crickets. I still haven’t seen any lights on the inside or the outside. There still hasn’t been a single Christmas decoration on the exterior of the house. Nothing.

Granted, it’s not my house…it’s theirs. They can do whatever they want, but if it wasn’t for the cars in the driveway or the fire pit and chairs in the backyard, you’d never know anyone lives there.

All of this is simply my observations of being a one-woman neighborhood watch program. I simply find it a shame to be lucky enough to own this amazing home and simply living there. The house exists…it’s not showing signs of life.