Sports

TOM VENESKY

I knelt by the enormous stones and wondered.

Each one measured a few feet in length and was stacked neatly to form rectangular and square shapes.

The sides of each stone were flat and the corners true – the result of a chisel, hammer and strong, sure hands.

They formed old foundations hidden beneath brush and trees on a remote Bradford County hilltop.

More than a century ago, this place used to be a home.

Today it is forgotten.

I’ve known about the foundations for years and passed them often while hunting turkeys on the mountain.

They typically attracted nothing more than a quick glance as my mind was on hunting and not history.

But one day I stopped to see if I could read the story the stones had to tell.

There are three foundations at the spot. A large rectangular pattern of stacked boulders, I surmised, was the barn. Within the outer walls two sections of stone ran lengthwise, separating the bottom of the barn into three long rooms. The front two sections were narrow and connected by openings wide enough for a person to walk through. The back section was a bit wider, and one end had an opening about 10 feet wide for livestock to pass through.

At the front of the barn foundation is an earthen ramp. Today it’s covered in maple trees, but decades ago it provided access to the second level.

The giant timbers that supported the structure are gone, having rotted back into the earth decades ago. Only the foundation exists, and aside from where a large tree uprooted a stone here and there, it stands as true as the day it was laid.

The rooms that once contained pens of cows and horses are now overgrown with thick trees and grapevines.

Out of curiosity, I kicked away the leaves near one of the door openings and found a piece of rusty, thick metal with squared edges protruding from the ground. With some effort, I pulled the metal free of the earth and roots that held it.

It was a latch, about six inches long, with a metal peg on the end. I ran my hand over the pitted wrought iron, allowing my mind to wander back in time.

Whose hands slid the latch open every morning as they walked through the sections of the barn?

Who made it, and when?

Above the barn foundation is a well, hand-dug about 30 feet deep and lined with fieldstone. The water pail and pump are long gone, and years of rotting leaves have filled the bottom.

Another foundation, this one a perfect square and a bit smaller than the barn, sits about 30 feet away. In the back of the foundation, shards of broken glass can be found in the ground. Several pieces that I found were the tops of bottles with a smooth opening for a cork. They probably held one of the ailment cures that were popular at the time.

The earth beneath the leaves also yielded a large, rusty strap hinge.

Could the hinge have held the front door to a home?

Did it squeak every day as family members ventured in and out?

Near the house foundation, there is a rectangular hole in the earth. The sides and floor are lined with brick, most of them crumbling into reddish dirt. Five large, flat stones form steps down the narrow opening into the dugout room.

Was this a smokehouse? A root cellar?

Time has slowly erased the remnants of the ancient farm. The fields now harbor trees rather than crops and cows. The path that must have led from the home to the barn faded long ago.

The stones are all that has withstood the test of time.

Tom Venesky writes about hunting, fishing, trapping and the outdoors for The Times Leader. He can be reached at tvenesky@timesleader.com or 829-7230.