Once again I ran past his house, as I usually did whenever I had to pass in front of it.  Mother's kept their children away and on Halloween day trick-or-treaters looked and kept on walking fearing to ring the bell.  It was not always like this.  It once had a beautiful appearance which everyone glorified over.   Its front stoop overflowed with flowers and the shrubs were neatly trimmed, so they say.  Now the roof is broken, its windows are covered and the exterior is a complete eyesore.  Ironically, the beautiful roses and daisies still bloom every spring.

            As the Christmas season arrives everyone gets into the holiday spirit.  Houses light up with decorations as well as joy.  all except his.  Many times I would gaze out of my window and observe my neighborhood.  I barely saw the man next door.  I would see an occasional light from his window and sometimes the burgundy colored van he drove to work parked on our block.  His house was like a cave with no life.  Only the life of a mysterious man encaved in four walls.

            In the summer he would grow vegetables and share with my mother.  He would lend my little brother movie tapes and strike conversations with me.  But somehow he sent vibes of mystery and weirdness.

            Many would say he is loony.  I personally object.  Society has become very objective labeling people with stigmas such as those to my neighbor.  He, like the rest of us, has problem with life.  His personal problems which we should not invade.

            The purpose of my story is to tell of the house which causes the most wonder on my block.  Many times I wonder what happened to him and his house.  Are the rumors true or are they just stories of people misinterpreting information?  Curiosity arose when I compared his house currently to that of the picture I obtained from the Archival Library from 1939.  Drastic change occurred, unexplainable questions to my curious mind.