Mike BilbroughHostMusic Jonathan Baxter stopped by the side of the road and could not believe what he saw.
His house was still there.
It was a quiet road, so there were no cars to disturb the peace he felt all around him.
A line of trees stood by the roadside, full of birds that sang in the warm summer morning air.
fields of wheat behind, shining gold in the bright sunshine.
There were no other houses in sight.
There never had been.
What amazed Jonathan was that his house was more or less standing.
For most, it would have proved to be a painful experience.
his charming two-story country house was in ruins.
However, the fact that it had been abandoned and had neither been rebuilt nor pulled down completely gave Jonathan a certain sense of satisfaction.
The bank had taken possession of the house 10 years ago Jonathan had been unable to pay the debts he owed on it in the taxes that he was obliged to pay after the house had been left to him on his mother's death.
A musician's income is small and the payments huge in comparison.
Jonathan was left penniless.
He lost not only his home, but also the very soul of his existence.
The home where he had been born and brought up.
Jonathan took the rucksack off his back and leaned it against a tree.
He had carried that same rucksack for the past ten years, walking the roads with no particular destination in mind, except a quiet place to sleep for the coming night, friendless and alone.
Jonathan had travelled hundreds of miles on foot, stopping in towns to play his harmonica in the streets to earn a little money for food.
So what had happened? Why was his house still standing here? Surely the bank would have found a way to have invested in this property to repay the debts on it.
Music Jonathan Baxter stopped by the side of the road and could not believe what he saw.
His house was still there.
It was a quiet road, so there were no cars to disturb the peace he felt all around him.
A line of trees stood by the roadside, full of birds that sang in the warm summer morning air.
fields of wheat behind, shining gold in the bright sunshine.
There were no other houses in sight.
There never had been.
What amazed Jonathan was that his house was more or less standing.
For most, it would have proved to be a painful experience.
his charming two-story country house was in ruins.
However, the fact that it had been abandoned and had neither been rebuilt nor pulled down completely gave Jonathan a certain sense of satisfaction.
The bank had taken possession of the house 10 years ago Jonathan had been unable to pay the debts he owed on it in the taxes that he was obliged to pay after the house had been left to him on his mother's death.
A musician's income is small and the payments huge in comparison.
Jonathan was left penniless.
He lost not only his home, but also the very soul of his existence.
The home where he had been born and brought up.
Jonathan took the rucksack off his back and leaned it against a tree.
He had carried that same rucksack for the past ten years, walking the roads with no particular destination in mind, except a quiet place to sleep for the coming night, friendless and alone.
Jonathan had travelled hundreds of miles on foot, stopping in towns to play his harmonica in the streets to earn a little money for food.
So what had happened? Why was his house still standing here? Surely the bank would have found a way to have invested in this property to repay the debts on it.
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