Perhaps a museum is for preserving valuable cultural artifacts of more than personal significance and which might otherwise not be available for purposes of public renewal. Things like this:
Fallen off its footings and left to the local porcupine.
It is fitting that we preserve the many war memorials in the Okanagan and that we remember the terrible cultural price that was paid to transform Canadian men into soldiers in two European world wars. I do find it sad, though, that the constructions those men left behind to go to war or built when they came home again to create some kind of peace are left to fall into disrepair: orchard prop piles, orchard machinery yards, old bunkhouses and irrigation flumes, packinghouses, livery stables, smithies, and trucking company offices, just for a tiny start: honourable items of work, that touched the land. Even in the last twenty years, we have lost the World War I era flumes and Chinese bunkhouses at Greata Ranch. Forty years ago, we lost the entire townsite of Upper Keremeos. These things don’t fall down on their own. They fall down because it is in the nature of people to forget. This is what forgetting looks like:
A Poplar Tree Remembers the Day Some Man Forgot
Honouring why men went to war is noble and stirring stuff. Honouring why they came back, though, although perhaps neither noble nor stirring, is equally vital.
This is what remembering looks like:
The Current Owner of the Pumphouse Shyly Holds Its Ground
It is also in the nature of people to remember. Lets.