Most everyone in this town would look at this stretch of 25th East between Iona Road and the Yellowstone Highway and see some vacant lots.
Well, not quite vacant, because this map is old, and at the corner of 25th East and Iona is a business: Idaho Monument Company, the gravestone marketer that's relocating from the corner of 25th East and the highway, a few lots out of shot.
Why are the lots vacant? The county and state are working on a road project to widen 25th East and fix the intersection at the US highway, and the houses and business there had to go.
Progress, you say. We have serious need to improve the road infrastructure in this town because of the increased population and the traffic that population brought with it.
I agree.
I also happen to have grown up in a house built by my Dad on the lot outlined in red.
There's a fair contingent of folks around here who want better roads, but don't want those better roads built near where they live.
Guess what?
For better roads, some sacrifices have to be made. Maybe it's part of the family farm, or a beloved tree, or what have you. Or maybe it's the brick rambler your Dad built a bit at a time for his family of eight kids, who really have a lot of fond memories of that house.
It was no longer in the family. Mom and Dad have passed on, and for a while one of their sons owned the house, but they eventually moved on and the house was sold, as houses often are.
When we learned the house had been sold and was going to be torn down, we were sad.
But I got to thinking about the house. It actually talked to me in a dream, of all things. It said it was tired. It served us well, but that it was time to move on. It reminded me that the memories of the people who lived in that house are much more important than any structure ever could be.
We do have a few material souvenirs. As the house was demolished, our oldest brother got permission to go onto the property and salvage enough bricks that all of the siblings could have one. The brick sits on my desk as I write this.
And it's okay.
Of the three houses my wife and I have owned, one is no more, It survived the Teton Dam flood in 1976; when we remodeled the basement we found dried flood mud atop the foundation. It had been built in the 1920s. But it too was tired, and was demolished to make way for student housing for nearby BYU-Idaho. And again, that's okay. That house served us well, gave us comfortable shelter, and convinced us we weren't cut out to be landlords as we rented the basement out.
Progress.
I know everyone doesn't see it that way. It's just how I see it. It's okay. We move on. And preserve the memories we have.
