I intended to write a fluffy post about the brothel, and discovered that Yeehaw was exposed to a lot more than pioneer-era bosoms.
The first thing friend Ginger and I did when we finally arrived was turn our noses up at half the graffiti.
“He’s going in!” I said, scrambling down the snowbank. It was filthy, nearly one storey high, and I’d been up there taking pictures of the old Plaza Theatre.
Now, I love a good diner at the best of times, so imagine my relief when, at one of my worst times (this whole parenting thing is really hard, you know), I stumbled upon this snapshot of diner life lovingly sculpted by dollmaker Lisa Lichtenfels.
To get to the gun raffle, one drives past the cemetery, through the trailer park and into the abandoned amusement park. It’s hard to find parking—is every pickup in Pennsylvania here?
My fingers lighted on a small leather billfold. It was structurally sound, the plastic envelopes for displaying photos just barely yellowed. And it was empty, except …