Tiny Cities Made of Ashes

This weekend a large part of Sackville burned down; it was the last historic wooden building left downtown. An entire corner is now gone, at least three business destroyed, and 30 apartments reduced to rubble. It's an interesting walk into town now, with brick walls visible that were previously hidden and the charred outsides of the remaining structure. It wasn't all lost, though. Ducky's and Joey's, plus a few others are still standing.

I've always said that anthropology has ruined my life, it finds its way in everywhere. This is one of those times. Place. Place, in anthropology, is never as simple as a location. Places are always given meaning beyond geography or structure. The burned building in Sackville is one of those places, and had anything else been lost I think the entire nature and meaning of Sackville would have changed forever. Ducky's isn't simply a dirty bar, and Joey's has enough memories of family, friends, and first dates to make it more than a pizza place. It may be silly, but I would put more personal significance in Ducky's than I would in the entire campus of Mount Allison. Places only hold the meaning we imbue them with.

I guess Sackville is home then. I feel the loss of it's history, it's appearance, and it business too much for this to just be a stopping place for me. I guess I've put more of myself into this town that I liked to admit. Strange what a fire and a rundown pub can make one realize...