The Dead Man's Trailor is no longer with us. Which brings me great sadness. Unlike my dad and uncle, that place was a safe haven for the siblings and I. Even with the black corrosive mold trickling through the mattresses that we smooshed our heads in. {YUH!}. The smell will always be with me whenever my lungs begin to close like the did during those long nights. Although it will be missed and we will have nowhere to sleep when we go down there as a whole family, I know it was for the better. It was time. So for histories sake, here are some pictures.
{back when I was wearing grandladies clothes and LIKEN it}
{the walls came tumbling down}
{there it is}
