My Favorite Story

1 Jun 2010 by admin, No Comments »

By Scotty Colson
I was in Krasnodon as part of the Community Partner’s program.
Birmingham and Krasnodon were matched up.  Krasnodon is in the far east
of the country right on the border with Russia separated only by the
Donets (sp) river.   The city officials were taking us to a factory they
wanted to someday re-open and to get investment for.  The road up to the
factory was nice until we got a half mile from the factory and then the
road became an almost impassable trail.   After this bumpy ride I got
out of the car and asked; “Hey what happened to the road”.  I was
informed by the Chief of Police who was with us “Road Stolen.”   I did
not think I heard him right so I asked for a translations.  Sure enough
the road had been stolen!  The road was made of slabs of concrete and
someone had stolen about half a mile of concrete slabs.  I asked the
Chief how you report a stolen road.  Without missing a beat he said; “On
the incident report you give the address as the street formerly located
at…”
When we went into the factory it had been closed for about 8 years.  It
had been a word working factory.  All the old banners exhorting the
workers to strive for victory in the class struggle against the
imperialist capitalists were still hanging.   Everything was left just
like people had put their tools down and walked away.   Every surface
was covered in about an inch of dust.  Except one room.  This room had a
large generator.  It was perfectly clean and shiny and looked like it
was ready to fire up.   Next door was an office with a bed and furniture
and small stove.  The office was apparently a home now.  Outside the
window was a nice garden with chickens and goats and vegetables growing.
The lady living in the office came in to see what were doing there.  She
was thrilled to see people visiting the factory.  When the factory was
in operation she was in charge of the generator I mentioned earlier.
Since the factory had closed she had not been able to get other work and
had lost her home.  She moved into the factory 6 years before and made
her a home there and every day she cleaned the old generator in hopes
someone would come back and open the factory and give her back her old
job.  We went away from this factory realizing that patience is a virtue
that can be overdone.

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