top of page
Gone
The land remembers, even when the buildings do not remain. In these 18 photographs, you’ll see not what is there, but what was—sites where family farms once stood, now replaced by cornfields, construction zones, or charred remnants left by fire. These places, once filled with life, have vanished within just a few years, erased from the landscape as though they were never there.
I began photographing farmsteads five years ago, drawn to their quiet beauty and their stories. Several of the houses I have visited are now gone—torn down, burned, or swallowed by new development. What was once a weathered farmhouse is now a line of freshly poured foundations for a subdivision. The towering barns that framed the horizon have been reduced to empty fields. Even as I worked, I couldn’t keep pace with the speed of their disappearance.
Each site tells a story of loss: a family’s legacy erased, a piece of history reclaimed by nature or reimagined by industry. Where once a front porch held quiet moments and conversations at sunset, there is now a patch of dirt. Where once a kitchen bustled with activity, the ground is overrun with crops. These places, and the lives they held, are slipping away faster than we realize.
This series is not just about what we’ve lost, but how quickly it’s happening. It’s a reminder that what seems permanent is often fleeting, and that change can erase what we fail to remember. By continuing this project, Documenting Disappearing Family Farmsteads, and capturing these places before they are gone, I hope to preserve a fragment of what they meant—evidence of a culture and a way of life fading far too fast.
bottom of page