Mike’s Jeep was the obvious choice to make our way to the farm area of the property, though a small, puckish part of me would have paid to watch Roger drive his Beemer baby over the cracked road into the unknown. I did my usual shorter legs kindness, getting in the back with Addy, and Roger navigated with his annotated map.
The landscape was a surreal time capsule. A lone, faded chip bag blew across the road in front of us as we cruised past the administration building. Following the road to its left, the next structure was a fenced compound, its single-story brick building and the fence itself appearing time-worn but whole.
“They locked people up here?” Addy asked, voice soft. “Kids?”
It was a desolate space now—as you’d expect, having been long abandoned. But with no trees, no constru
