Our first look at the New but possibly not Improved Kensington. The locals call it New Ken, Wikipedia says. There are about 13 thousand of them.

This . . . isn’t hopeful.

But I start wherever I start, and this was the first thing I saw. It has to get better - I’ve two folders for this town, so I clipped a lot. Either we’re in for fantastic quantities of decay, or it gets cool and interesting.

Another empty lot, this one reclaimed by nature, with a nice gazebo so you can contemplate the ghost:



This is rare:

I’d say . . . 45? 46? It’s the color that says so, to me at least. The materials and the hues are rarely found intact these days. It might have spent forty years under something else, but I don’t think so.

Oh god no

Doesn't look permanent, thank heavens.

My heart, she stops, and I am in love:

Did they freeze this town? Was it covered by volcanic ash?

All the original details:

If it was buried by a volcano, at least we know it hit in the mid 60s.

I love how it’s glaring at the two-angle-window building across the street, who glares back.


GENE had a nice store.

Can you fill in the blanks? It’s not hard. Again, he must have done well to pay for a front like that.

The CLOSING sign is still in the window. For how long, you wonder.

Hmm. Why did I snip this old building? It’s handsome, but noting special.


Jeez, that took out a chunk.

Again, what it was. I wonder what happened?



Say, that’s a nice little building, with lots of terra-cotta add-ons to give the street some class. Give it a little more love, and -



A neighborhood historical / preservation org has a Facebook showcasing the terracotta bits they saved. It says the building was lost to fire.

Annnnnd again.

Whew: something sturdy, stable, and built for the ages.

You’re waiting for a punchline, right? No; still there.


Ah, but that's just part of the story. More on the next page.