History

This is the back door to our old court building. I remember the very first time I walked through this door back in 1993. I was with our old court officer. I was a new policeman with new uniforms, new leather, and a lot of stuff on my belt. All the latest toys for the police. He was grizzled with old uniforms, old leather, and nothing but a gun (an old revolver) and a single pair of handcuffs. He didn’t need anything else.

Never having been in trouble before, being at court was an intimidating experience. All of the defendants were sitting in chairs on either side of the hallway. We walked right down between them. I think they could smell the new uniforms.....kinda like sharks in bloody water. As the years went on, I became one of the older guys, though I still have a lot of stuff on my belt. I walked through this door with my friends. I walked through this door with judges and attorneys. I walked through this door the day after the worst day of my life. I remember it vividly.

They closed this building and moved into a new one in 2007. Today was the first time I was inside of it since then. It’s weird. There are still desks and chairs. The courtrooms still look the same, just in an incredible state of decay. It’s like the people that used to be here just disappeared. They took a lot of stuff with them, obviously, but they left enough back that it seems as though they may return someday.

I wish I could tell you that this was a grand building in it’s day. It wasn’t. It was a hole back then, but it was all I knew. It was a dirty, gritty place doing the dirty, gritty work of the justice system. No high profile cases here. It was a municipal court handling the everyday dredges of society. Enforcing the rules that make our world a tolerable place to live.

Doorways have always held a fascination for me. A lot of history walks through doorways.

Just imagine the stories your front door could tell.