Alive and well are the still smothering housing foreclosure market.

Just the other day, as I take a stroll down a neighboring street, I witness every piece of the furniture that was earlier in the neighboring house is strewned all over the front lawn. The noontime sun beams brightly on the now open air household items.  The sky is now their ceiling and rooftop. Those  family’s belongings yesterday were neatly and functionally arranged in their now abandoned six room house. This is the tragedy of a family lost in the mortgage fraud crunch and foreclosure.

Featured outside on the crowded lawn are the Sealy’s queen size Mattress bed, matching dresser and chest of drawers. They all once held fort in a 12 by 14 foot bedroom upstairs.  Nearby, also on the grass is an alarm clock set at six a.m. as it was on the family’s night table. The popular king-pin refrigerator that once cornered the 11 by 11 foot kitchen succumbs to the heat of the day. Yes, the opened door Magic Chef refrigerator-freezer brings slow death to the foods. Water drains the life blood from the box as vapor steam waves to the waiting skies.  The tossed-on-the-side Westinghouse stove fizzes an aroma of natural gases from a dangling unplugged coil outlet.  Buzzing flies engage in fierce battles as they hover over plates stuck with remnants of collard greens and pork chops.  A laundry basket longing for Rinso soap suds also  testifies  that this family was taken by surprise.

A La-Zy-Boy favorite lounger, crushed under the impact of Corningware bowls miss being in that 15 by 16 foot living room in front of that 50 inch flat screen TV set.  And now this Sony electronic device screen now reflects and focuses all day news to the pedestrians gawking at this front lawn display. 

A Harmony House dining room table strained with books, jars, cleaning supplies remembering loaded down with plates of supermarket food menus in that 12 by 12 foot dining room.  And especially on holidays.  Unopened gallon cans of beige interior Behr wall paints, Home Depot hammers, nails, screwdriver lose hope of decorating and house repairing as they leisurely  lay scattered on the lawn. An ironing board, relaxes forlornly under the pile of wrinkled dresses and trousers waiting to be processed.  Jug bottles of Coca-cola, Pepsi and drinking cups huddle together, remembering Saturday night parties.

Pages of photo albums spill out the family memories onto the lawn.  Baby Molly’s first steps and Grandma Johnnie Sue’s last birthday. Wedding pictures of Clara Mae and Charles  are now torn and tattered and lay spread out on the shrubbery like Christmas lights. Children’s dolls, trains, checkers say, “Come on and let’s play!” Banged-up card table with broken leg and scattered playing cards will miss Uncle Joe’s laughing, “I bid you six!”

Mangled family ’s photo picture frames, flower pots and drinking glasses suggest that the eviction officers hurried the furniture from the home.  Noticing this, pedestrians and motorists alike shake their heads, and mutter, “Ain’t this a cryin’ shame?!”  knowing full well that this foreclosure can happen to anybody in today’s economy.