218 Wirt Street

By Tim Jon

No- when I was a kid (some of my friends would say I still am, bless them), we never had a shopping mall across the street (or even within 50 miles of my home) to ‘hang out’ in; I guess my alternative to the wonders to be found in such a facility was a landscape feature with much less obvious, popular allure: my beloved vacant lots.

 ‘Well, if there’s nothing there, what did you do?’ Ah, I never said that; it was merely undeveloped land: my hometown possessed enough rural character that I can vividly remember some of these landowners mowing, turning and baling their own wild hay on many of these properties; it was fertile ground, in many ways.

Mostly for my developing imagination. My brothers and I would fly kites, organize a neighborhood baseball game, play with our dogs, chase butterflies and grasshoppers, collect prize specimens of sedimentary, igneous and metamorphic rocks (without certainty of their identity, of course), swap school stories, watch the stars at night, set up jumps for our bikes, explore the areas with new (and old) friends, observe any interesting weather patterns, and allow our young minds to use all the time and space they cared for, and sometimes completely fill the void which an adult passerby might describe as ‘just a vacant lot.’ 

Now, I didn’t recall all these memories as I stalked the grounds of 218 Wirt Street in Downtown Leesburg on one of my photo sessions. I hadn’t even planned on visiting the property; I believe I was homeward bound from another local site of interest and, lo and behold, even at my relatively ripe age, one of my vacant lots just sort of reached out and grabbed me. 

I neared, appraised and circled the sole structure on the acreage: a blue, one-story building with the apt title of “Office” printed just to the side of the entrance, with a couple of window-style air conditioning units flanking on left and right. Wooden steps led up to the front door – with the approach also balanced to the right and left – painted in the aforementioned slate blue hue. A tin stovepipe lent its talents in completing the visual attractions of the entrance to the structure. More air conditioners in the back, and peeling paint viewed through the wild mulberry trees taking advantage of a place to grow. A ‘For Sale’ sign graced the front right corner of the one-time office; or, more appropriately the ground in front of the building; there it lay, for those few to see who would take the trouble to peer through the lengthening grass and weeds which enjoyed the run of the entire lot. 

My eyes instinctively searched for collectible rocks among my feet, and I carefully watched for any possible boards with upturned nails (no, this wasn’t my first vacant-lot rodeo), and kept a look-out for any birds, insects or other animal life. If my mission had been the capture of some wild beast to bring home – such as a monarch caterpillar, or some lady bugs, or maybe even a feisty grasshopper – I failed miserably: this particular lot – nestled just off of Georgetown Park along Southwest South Street, which runs parallel to the Town Branch creek – held nary a critter to capture my concentration. 

And, as I explored further to the outskirts of the lot itself, I saw it: another sign – this time in vertical stance – declaring, “Coming Soon. Offices for Sale. The Offices of Georgetown Park.” I thought, but of course. It’s a wonder that this land lay fallow for what must have been well over a decade – perhaps much more. And sufficient time has elapsed since my first, and only exploratory session, that my next pass-by the location may offer this writer a glimpse of those brand-spanking new Offices of Georgetown Park. And I’m sure they’ll look great, and offer their future inhabitants all they could ask in such facilities – conveniently located in the Downtown area of the County Seat. Yes, they will be a nice addition to the Town. 

But I just know, that I’ll remember the look of that forlorn, gun-metal-blue structure, with the white-painted “Office” placard stuck out front, and the obsolete air conditioners, and the home-made-looking stairs, and the stove-pipe, and the wild mulberries around the back. And so will you.