Ruin Porn
Did I, Lady Athena capture your attention by placing the word ‘porn’ in the subtitle? This post has absolutely nothing to do whatsoever with porn. My purpose for writing this week is to illustrate my fascination with abandoned buildings, towns, vehicles, and islands that has further developed in my 40s.
There are a few reasons why I have such an intrigue with abandoned places. My perception of uninhabited places is that they seem to be branded by question marks that urge me to find answers to the why questions. Why is this place deserted? What events led up to its desertion? I always feel a strong pull towards finding answers that connect the stories.
My passion for abandoned places was the inspiration for the writing and publication of my novella The Manse’s Voice. After spending a year searching for the missing pieces of the puzzle to the mysterious manse, I thought my enchantment for abandoned places would have fizzled out. I was mistaken to believe that my allurement to deserted places would have ceased. Apparently I was just getting started.
A few months ago while up late one night surfing the internet, an article popped up on Microsoft News. I can’t remember the exact title, but it was something along the lines of abandoned and creepy places around the world. I read about uninhabited places that I had no prior knowledge of, such as North Brother Island in New York and Poveglia Island in Italy. They were indeed intriguing, but for some reason Holland Island was the most captivating. According to the article, Holland Island was once a thriving community for fisherman and farmers; located in Dorchester County, Maryland, it became uninhabited in the 1920s due to erosion that forced its inhabitants to relocate.
I became so curious about Holland Island that I found a Facebook page created by somebody who has been there many times. I also turned up some facts about Holland Island that are relatable to my personal history. The last house that remained in Holland Island succumbed to erosion and collapsed into the sea in 2010. That was the same year that my stepfather Charlie passed away. Another fact that I discovered from online articles, was a man named Stephen White tried to save the island and its last surviving house from further erosion into the Chesapeake Bay.
I was born in a town called Stephenville which is allegedly named after two men named Stephen. One gentleman was Stephen Gallant and the other Stephen’s last name was, drum roll please, Stephen White. Could those two coincidences possibly be generating a pull towards this island? I hope to one day take a trip to Holland Island before there is absolutely nothing left but memories, sunken grave sites, photos, and stories from those who once lived there. I even wrote a poem about Holland Island called When Calls the Island.
I thought that after I wrote that poem that maybe my fascination with Holland Island was starting to leave my system, but then another coincidence rekindled my interest. It was this past spring while traveling to Ontario to attend my friend’s wedding that during my stop over I decided to check out the books at the airport store. The very first book that I picked up and read the back was The Book of Summer by Michelle Gable; I felt immediately lured to purchase it. It is about a house in Sconset, Nantucket that was destined to succumb to erosion and perish into the sea as many homes before it. It’s a facetious story, but I found it was interesting and also related to Holland Island and my fascination with ruin porn.
Stay tuned for later posts on my fascination by ruin porn.
When Calls The Island
Was it Mother Nature or destiny?
That made pieces of you erode into the sea?
Of an unstable foundation of mud and clay.
The inhabitants built stone walls to try to make you stay.
At one time you were prosperous that provided livelihood to its people.
Until a storm destroyed the church leaving nothing but the steeple.
I must see thee through my own eyes.
I must encounter life that lies under its skies.
Before this island is engulfed into the Chesapeake Sea.
Swallowed up entirely, waves washing away centuries of history.
The parallel of what you were and what you are is extremely eerie.
The desire to visit there does not in any way make me weary.
The scattered graves of displaced souls I pray rest in peace.
The pull I feel towards this place is strong to say the least.
Pieces of you still remain for wanderlust souls to discover.
The question of why still remains to be uncovered.
Why you were destined borrowed time remains a mystery.
To be washed away by greater forces will forever fascinate me.
The tales told by deceased souls will remain part of history.
I must find time and my voice to narrate your story.
Your memories will live on through hearts of ancestors who remain.
Where Holland Island once stood will always be the blood of their veins.
A desolate house tried to stand the test of decay and time.
For a kind man and his wife to spend their very last dime.
The last house stood alone until it could not bear any more.
In 2010 it surrendered and crumbled into the shore.
Though you died trying to save it your heroic efforts were not in vain.
I really hope that one day you see your island again.
Are you fascinated by deserted places? Have you ever visited a deserted town? Have you ever felt drawn to visiting an abandoned place?