‘There is a special sort of sadness present in ‘The Layaway Vault’s’ of western Illinois. The items there represent sadness on an individual level, of course, having been long abandoned by the families that hope, someday to afford them. This is compounded by the much more judgmental sadness that arises when an American pledges, but is unable to, complete a purchase.
This is not to be confused with the noble tragedy of a failed enterprise- it’s very noble to gamble and even to lose on money-making schemes, but to commit to buying something, say a comfortable armchair, and to fail to have the funds when the prescribed time has arrived is a pitiable thing. It represents not a failure of the individual, but a failure of the system which should, at least, have offered the would-be purchaser a high-interest loan or even a direct, parasitic siphoning of their monthly salary. ‘The Layaway Vault’ represents opportunities lost and the owners are determined to preserve them in this state, unwilling to open the packages or to contact the original layaway-ers or to consider the willingness of visitors to purchase said packages and have them delivered, belatedly, to said layaway-ers.
There is a lot of shame wrapped up in the whole thing.’
Soft, quality bedding. Thick jackets. Kitchen sets. Toys. The items tucked away in ‘The Layaway Vault’ are all little luxuries- things that could likely be replaced with cheaper versions, that could be thrifted or done without entirely. They represent the then-dreams of the families that chose them. That comfort has hardened into something really quite sad in its abandonment. ‘The Layaway Vault’ has pledged that, for posterity, these goals will never be met. It’s a cruelty I imagine most of the families don’t even realize.
I’ve seen a lot of sadness on this trip, but these goals, left dust-laden in the dark, fill me with dread. I’ve shelved so much in my life. I’ve left things behind me for longer than I intended. I’m not sure how much of it is still waiting for me.
-traveler
