Hitschmann School
On one of my forays into rural Kansas, I happened upon a true ghost town--Hitschmann, which I doubt more'n a small handful of people of ever heard of. It lies near the exact center of Kansas--off the beaten path, with no significant population centers nearby. Great Bend (pop. 15,000) is about 40 miles to the southwest, and Wichita is about 100 miles to the southeast. The last resident had died but recently upon my arrival, at least according to a farmer who lived nearby and owned some of the buildings in the town.
My meeting with this individual was quite interesting. I parked my car at some random spot, and began wandering about, taking photos. About 45 minutes later, I saw a portly gentleman pull up next to my car, driving a tractor. I was about 100 meters away, and began to walk his direction. He walked around my car, peeking inside, before wandering off to look into the windows of a nearby building. I assumed he was looking for me, and as I got closer, I hailed him, and he walked toward me. I wish I could say it was a pleasant meeting, but initially, it was anything but. He started off by accusing me of "messing" with and trespassing on his property and said I was lucky he hadn't shot me. I assured him, calmly (my work as a psych. RN definitely comes in handy at times), that I was not messing with anything there, but was just taking photos--that taking pics of abandoned buildings was a hobby of mine, and I was always respectful of others' property. I told him this in snatches, as it was difficult to get in a full sentence, as he was quite angry. But gradually, as I respectfully listened to him, and assuring him I meant his property no harm, he began to calm down--slowly to be sure, but more and more his words became less heated, and I was able to speak my piece, and was able to ask him questions about the town. After perhaps 5 or 10 minutes, our conversation actually became fairly cordial. He continued to occasionally display some anger, but now it wasn't directed toward me, but at previous interlopers who had stolen some of his equipment. He had been plagued by such incidents--something I could truly empathize with. I mentioned some of my experiences along those lines, whereupon his discourse became even more friendly. We eventually talked about the town, and how it had once been quite a bit larger than it then appeared, but it had shrunk considerably during the depression and dust bowl days. It was still a thriving if small village in the 50's, when the elementary school was built, but in the 60's, it began to die, with the few businesses failing and people moving away.
We shook hands when he left me to go back to my taking photos, and he gave me his phone number so if I ever came back to take more photos, I could give him a heads up.
Hitschmann School
On one of my forays into rural Kansas, I happened upon a true ghost town--Hitschmann, which I doubt more'n a small handful of people of ever heard of. It lies near the exact center of Kansas--off the beaten path, with no significant population centers nearby. Great Bend (pop. 15,000) is about 40 miles to the southwest, and Wichita is about 100 miles to the southeast. The last resident had died but recently upon my arrival, at least according to a farmer who lived nearby and owned some of the buildings in the town.
My meeting with this individual was quite interesting. I parked my car at some random spot, and began wandering about, taking photos. About 45 minutes later, I saw a portly gentleman pull up next to my car, driving a tractor. I was about 100 meters away, and began to walk his direction. He walked around my car, peeking inside, before wandering off to look into the windows of a nearby building. I assumed he was looking for me, and as I got closer, I hailed him, and he walked toward me. I wish I could say it was a pleasant meeting, but initially, it was anything but. He started off by accusing me of "messing" with and trespassing on his property and said I was lucky he hadn't shot me. I assured him, calmly (my work as a psych. RN definitely comes in handy at times), that I was not messing with anything there, but was just taking photos--that taking pics of abandoned buildings was a hobby of mine, and I was always respectful of others' property. I told him this in snatches, as it was difficult to get in a full sentence, as he was quite angry. But gradually, as I respectfully listened to him, and assuring him I meant his property no harm, he began to calm down--slowly to be sure, but more and more his words became less heated, and I was able to speak my piece, and was able to ask him questions about the town. After perhaps 5 or 10 minutes, our conversation actually became fairly cordial. He continued to occasionally display some anger, but now it wasn't directed toward me, but at previous interlopers who had stolen some of his equipment. He had been plagued by such incidents--something I could truly empathize with. I mentioned some of my experiences along those lines, whereupon his discourse became even more friendly. We eventually talked about the town, and how it had once been quite a bit larger than it then appeared, but it had shrunk considerably during the depression and dust bowl days. It was still a thriving if small village in the 50's, when the elementary school was built, but in the 60's, it began to die, with the few businesses failing and people moving away.
We shook hands when he left me to go back to my taking photos, and he gave me his phone number so if I ever came back to take more photos, I could give him a heads up.