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Every time I walk by a car like this I wonder how many just like it I walked past back when they were everywhere. When I took for granted the cars that dotted the area as I must have the people. This 1954 Mercury is a survivor like me. I am two years older than it is and yet it looks like it belongs where I think I do. On these bricks in the South end of Columbus. I also think that this car wouldn't be any safer on them at night than I am. When it was still someone's daily driver no one would have paid much attention to it but now left in the dark I doubt that it would be left alone. The thought of someone smashing the fifty-six year old glass out of this to steal something from it or to steal the car itself not only sickens me it makes me angry. Actually it pisses me off. Angry is too soft a word to describe the absence of respect for not just other people's property so many now have, but their lack of any interest in preserving history. This car is only a little more than a half century old but the bricks under it and some of the structures shadowing it have been there twice that long. The reality is that the car and me are both out of place in an environment that is as beautiful as it ever was but is so close to areas that have not survived as well.