Yesterday, I found myself standing in front of a building that was once such a huge part of my life: 23 N. 4th Street in Columbia.
For many people, it’s the Broome Closet Shop. For us, it was also the place where we spent 19 years running our computer business before moving into our current offices. Walking up to it after the devastation caused by the tornado was heartbreaking. It felt surreal seeing a place filled with so many memories standing wounded and surrounded by fencing.
The demolition crew had begun their work, securing the old Keystone building and clearing debris from the roof and exterior. As we stood there, it was impossible not to reflect on everything those walls had witnessed over the years. I watched most of my children grow up while I was there. Countless days, late nights, milestones, friendships, and memories all happened within those walls.
In the middle of the sadness, there was also something meaningful. Peggy generously gave me a brick from the building, along with a few other keepsakes, including part of an old window beam from the side of the structure. They may seem like simple pieces of wood and stone to some, but to me they are pieces of history, reminders of a chapter of life that can never be replaced.
Today, I’ll be heading back one more time. Not just for another look, but to help Peggy and John Broome salvage the remaining ceramics from the shop. Even as one chapter closes, another is already beginning.
Peggy plans to relocate her operation to a new building on her property along Penn Street in Washington Boro, where she has lovingly maintained her farm for many years. It’s a testament to the resilience and determination that define so many people in our community.
Buildings come and go. Storms leave their marks. But the memories, friendships, and stories connected to these places remain long after the bricks are gone.
As I stood there yesterday, holding a brick from a building that helped shape nearly two decades of my life, I realized that this isn’t really the end. It’s simply another chapter in the daily lives of Columbians, a community that continues to rebuild, adapt, and move forward together.
Some places become more than buildings.
They become part of who we are.
