Breaking and Entering

by 13 Stoploss

I live on a rehabilitated piece of land that was once a Marine Corp Air Station. Two of the largest wood structures in the hemisphere are a half-mile away, and had formerly housed the blimps that patrolled the Pacific Coast during World War II. Later, the base was refurbished into a Marine Corp Helicopter station. The chemicals used to clean their engines are still in the ground, polluting the ground water. In fact, a toxic plume drifts forty-feet below the surface, skimming the top of the underground water reservoir. Supposedly, it's clean enough. Forty years from now, we'll see.

I see these buildings everyday. I drive by them. In the evenings with my family, I walk by them.

I am curious, and I want to look inside. The ranger in the Ranger doesn't want me to. His people put up fences and ugly green tarps to prevent my peering eyes from seeing the other side.

Still, I am curious. The Santa Ana College Sherrif's station will not stop me. The ranger in the Ranger, patrolling the border, looking for illegals, will not stop me, despite posted threats. I am going to walk right into the unlocked front door, and allow my curiosity to get the best of me. Sometimes, I'll have a guest, accompanying me, wading through piles of rat shit and and debris left behind from the closure.

These are just two buildings--the most accessible, of dozens. They are also the only two that are not fenced in, and have no posted signs. I don't know how long this will last. It isn't me that the authorities need be concerned about. I'm not a thief, except for the wall maps of the base and Southern California coast, that I took from the inside of the Fire Engine bay. But really, I have no interest in destroying what has been curiously preserved. My interest is simple. I want to look, and I want the silver on my film to record a latent image, to preserve the moment, captured in time, and to share with all.

This is how I am going to spend my summer vacation.

That is all.