By the time I arrived at Santa Claus, little remained to indicate that it was once a destination, or for that matter, anything at all.
These images will make you nostalgic for a time you were never a part of and find yourself sharing something in common with a generation almost a century before.
Fast forward a few years, and the school was (not surprisingly) closed. It sat condemned for years and I drove by the empty shell often, until we got the bright idea to break in.
Between you and me, judging by the horribleness and the age of the fecal matter, these stains could have come from someone who had just eaten at Lone Star.
Steven started blowing out bits of blood in his nose into my sink. I asked if he was OK. He replied, Oh, it’s just the coke.
The eeriness only added to the suspense of getting caught by the cops, but I even felt a bit sad thinking how this is where these so-called American heroes wound up.
I heard voices on the other side. Voices like, What are you doing? and How’d you get in there?