After the Fire: Burnt Cabin on Loveville Road

It was a dry and sunny day, and my husband wanted to take his classic car out for a spin. So we embarked upon the fun tradition known as the Sunday afternoon drive. I don't know if it's an American invention. But I do know that my pappy used to do it. 

Pappy Carvell would load Grammy Carvell and all of his photography gear into the car, and they would drive around on all of the central Pennsylvania backroads and look at things and take pictures. It is a fine tradition. I suspect that I've come by this photography thing honestly. Drive a little. See something pretty. Hop out. Snap a photo.

We made it onto Dry Hollow Road. We went down to Warriors Mark. We drove through little side villages with no names. It was nice. And mellow. And relaxing. On the way back, he drove on Loveville Road, which has the burnt cabin on it that I used to visit somewhat regularly. We stopped. I hopped out and snapped some photos.

You used to be able to see the cabin itself more clearly. (See photos: broken window, crooked little house, burnt cabin on a winter's day, spring comes to the burnt cabin.) However, it is now falling down and obscured by plants. Stag-horn sumac, I think. They are quite colorful now in October. The red leaves almost felt like prayer flags, flying in the breeze, asking for blessings for unknown souls.

In the springtime, my husband and I sold the huge air conditioner that was my father's. My dad hurt his back badly trying to lift it into the window by himself. Why he didn't wait for help to do such a thing is beyond me, but that back injury gave him so much grief during the last few years of his life. It made me HATE that huge air conditioner, for the pain it caused him.

We took that air conditioner because my dad asked us to. We brought it home, but discovered it was really way too big to be of use to us. Just lifting it was nearly impossible. And that was with TWO of us. So we decided to sell it.

I advertised the air conditioner on Stormstown Neighbors, our local Facebook group. A rather large man and his rather large wife showed up, paid cash, and took that air conditioner. As they stood in the driveway, with the air conditioner already loaded into the back of their pick-up truck, I learned that the couple, Randy and Theresa, lived on Loveville Road. So I asked if they knew the story behind the burnt cabin.

Of course, they did, for they had lived on Loveville Road for 30 years. The man actually knew the family that had lived there. He told me that 25 years ago, there was a flue fire that burned the cabin down. And 40 years ago, the man who owned the cabin had a son who committed suicide there. So the cabin's history was rife with tragedy.

Now, this story might make you sad. It does me, a bit. But mostly, I was just GLAD TO HEAR THE STORY. Actually, the truth is I would have paid good money to learn it. I knew - or suspected - that this cabin's tale was one with some dark twists and turns, and so there we have it. This place has had its tragedies, and the prayer flags still blow on the winds.

I admit I did not know much about prayer flags, so I looked them up. Did you know that traditional prayer flags usually come in five colors, representing the five elements: blue for sky and space, white for air and wind, red for fire, green for water, yellow for earth. It makes sense that only red flags fly here, in this space ruled by fire and loss.

My soundtrack song is Roger Daltrey, with After the Fire.