The concrete porch steps, which my grandmother washed daily to remove the steel mill grit, have somehow disappeared. There was once a wooden knee-wall around the porch, with a couple of small glass windows that we kids enjoyed looking through to "spy" on passers-by. The right side of the porch is crumbling away, with chunks of concrete littering the ground. The paned front door, however, is the one I remember from my childhood.