jimalone
STIMULUS....
DEAR HONORABLE PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA,
The pictured above realtor signage are engulfing my street and neighborhood.
PLEASE, Sir, place on the agenda an urgency and high priority of HOUSING ECONOMICS, so that the young and the retired senior citizen homeowners can stay in their prized possessions....their hard owned homes.
Thank you.
Below, is one the many sad scenes that I have witnessed this year. Please let me share it with you.
Thank you for your compassion, and congratulations on your election.
FORECLOSURE...FORECLOSURE....FORECLOSURE.....FORECLOSURE
by
James Hiram Malone
TODAY IS TUESDAY. Atlanta's sun beams brightly down on a displaced furniture pile on the front lawn of a family's residence. The mountainous array of items evicted from the now empty house have no privacy. A great big Atlanta blue sky is the roof over the household personal belongings.
YESTERDAY WAS MONDAY. Every piece of the now open-air furniture was neatly and functionally arranged in that now abandoned seven room house. The sleep-good full size bed, matching dresser, and the chest of drawers that passers-by gawk at, once held fort in a ten foot by twelve foot upstairs bedroom. Nearby, on the grass, an electric alarm clock, whose face reflects the sun rays is set at six am as it was on the family's night table.
TODAY, TUESDAY, the open door refrigerator is bringing slow death of the freezer foods. Water drains like life's blood from the box and vapor steams wave to the waiting sky. The popular king-pin refrigerator that once coolly cornered the nine by nine foot kitchen succumbs to the heat of the day.
The leaning-on-the-side stove fizzes an aroma of gas that escapes from a dangling unplugged coil outlet. Circling flies engage in fierce battle as they hover over food remnants on dishpan plates. A laundry basket longing for soapsuds testifies that this home dweller was taken by surprise.
A tossed-on-its-back lounger, crushed under the impact of pots, pans and table lamps, misses being in that thirteen by thirteen foot living room in front of that TV set. And this unplugged TV electronic device screen now reflects and focuses all-day news to the pedestrians gawking at the front lawn's disarray. This is the picture of the tragedy of a family that got lost in the budget crunch economy and received foreclosure notice and was evicted to the streets.
A round dining room table strained with books, jars, cleaning supplies remembers being loaded down with plates of food in that nine by nine foot dining room. And especially on holidays. Unopened gallon cans of beige interior wall paint, a hammer, nails, screwdriver will not decorate and repair the house, scatter leisurely on the lawn. An ironing board, relaxes forlornly under the heat of the sun. Various brands of alcoholic beverage bottles and glasses lay huddle together, ready for another Saturday night party.
Flung-out-of-the-closets, mother-of-the-house dresses and father-of-the house suits lay wrinkled on top of an empty bookcase. Walking, jogging and playing family shoes lay inactive in the corner of the lawn. Ripped-from-the-windows, curtains, shades, now not giving privacy to household items, resign themselves in the shrubberies.
Pages of photo album leap out family memories onto the lawn. Baby Molly's first steps and grandma's birthday. Children's dolls, trains, checkers say “Come play with me!” Banged-up card table and scattered playing cards miss Uncle Joe's laughing, “I bid six!”
Broken picture frames, flower pots, and spilled prescription medicines onto the lawn suggest the movers were not sympathetic in evicting the family.
Pedestrians and motorists later seeing the AUCTION sign, mutter, “Ain't it a shame,” knowing full well that FORECLOSURE can happen to them without a moment's notice.
jhm
jhmalone@att.net
*************************************
malone.imagekind.com/masterpieces
(click at top of page at jhmalone and
"Laughing Trees" site )
STIMULUS....
DEAR HONORABLE PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA,
The pictured above realtor signage are engulfing my street and neighborhood.
PLEASE, Sir, place on the agenda an urgency and high priority of HOUSING ECONOMICS, so that the young and the retired senior citizen homeowners can stay in their prized possessions....their hard owned homes.
Thank you.
Below, is one the many sad scenes that I have witnessed this year. Please let me share it with you.
Thank you for your compassion, and congratulations on your election.
FORECLOSURE...FORECLOSURE....FORECLOSURE.....FORECLOSURE
by
James Hiram Malone
TODAY IS TUESDAY. Atlanta's sun beams brightly down on a displaced furniture pile on the front lawn of a family's residence. The mountainous array of items evicted from the now empty house have no privacy. A great big Atlanta blue sky is the roof over the household personal belongings.
YESTERDAY WAS MONDAY. Every piece of the now open-air furniture was neatly and functionally arranged in that now abandoned seven room house. The sleep-good full size bed, matching dresser, and the chest of drawers that passers-by gawk at, once held fort in a ten foot by twelve foot upstairs bedroom. Nearby, on the grass, an electric alarm clock, whose face reflects the sun rays is set at six am as it was on the family's night table.
TODAY, TUESDAY, the open door refrigerator is bringing slow death of the freezer foods. Water drains like life's blood from the box and vapor steams wave to the waiting sky. The popular king-pin refrigerator that once coolly cornered the nine by nine foot kitchen succumbs to the heat of the day.
The leaning-on-the-side stove fizzes an aroma of gas that escapes from a dangling unplugged coil outlet. Circling flies engage in fierce battle as they hover over food remnants on dishpan plates. A laundry basket longing for soapsuds testifies that this home dweller was taken by surprise.
A tossed-on-its-back lounger, crushed under the impact of pots, pans and table lamps, misses being in that thirteen by thirteen foot living room in front of that TV set. And this unplugged TV electronic device screen now reflects and focuses all-day news to the pedestrians gawking at the front lawn's disarray. This is the picture of the tragedy of a family that got lost in the budget crunch economy and received foreclosure notice and was evicted to the streets.
A round dining room table strained with books, jars, cleaning supplies remembers being loaded down with plates of food in that nine by nine foot dining room. And especially on holidays. Unopened gallon cans of beige interior wall paint, a hammer, nails, screwdriver will not decorate and repair the house, scatter leisurely on the lawn. An ironing board, relaxes forlornly under the heat of the sun. Various brands of alcoholic beverage bottles and glasses lay huddle together, ready for another Saturday night party.
Flung-out-of-the-closets, mother-of-the-house dresses and father-of-the house suits lay wrinkled on top of an empty bookcase. Walking, jogging and playing family shoes lay inactive in the corner of the lawn. Ripped-from-the-windows, curtains, shades, now not giving privacy to household items, resign themselves in the shrubberies.
Pages of photo album leap out family memories onto the lawn. Baby Molly's first steps and grandma's birthday. Children's dolls, trains, checkers say “Come play with me!” Banged-up card table and scattered playing cards miss Uncle Joe's laughing, “I bid six!”
Broken picture frames, flower pots, and spilled prescription medicines onto the lawn suggest the movers were not sympathetic in evicting the family.
Pedestrians and motorists later seeing the AUCTION sign, mutter, “Ain't it a shame,” knowing full well that FORECLOSURE can happen to them without a moment's notice.
jhm
jhmalone@att.net
*************************************
malone.imagekind.com/masterpieces
(click at top of page at jhmalone and
"Laughing Trees" site )