Local legend refers to him as Cadillac Joe even though he was always spotted driving a Lincoln. For decades it was said that this former demolition man drove every Sunday to visit the road side folly he had erected stone by stone single handedly over the course of decades. It looked like a drip sand castle Scarlet O Hara would have constructed as a child if Salvador Dali had been her father. In a world where curb side appeal is measured in tidy window boxes and plush lawns the house’s constant intrigue lay in its unapologetic state of constant construction and deconstruction. When I passed by today I suddenly noticed a For Sale sign tacked on its exterior. How could something so far removed from maps and monetary transactions be for sale? Had Cadillac Joe died or finally given up? I wanted to rip it down. Five years ago my older son had been scouting for a location in his student film and knew he wanted to shoot there, having passed it countless of times during childhood. On the day of the shoot a light snow was falling which made the bare winter afternoon feel even more cinematic. As we drove up to the house we saw a wisp of smoke curling out of one of the three stone chimneys like something out of a Grimms fairytale. Inside an elderly man was hunched over a small fire in a giant stone fireplace, feeding it sticks in a repetitive, rather than contemplative manner. Stacks of newspapers crowded around him in the rubble. I said hello and asked permission to quickly shoot outside his property. When he saw they were just teenagers he nodded and offered the interior as well. As the boys scrambled out of the car I learned that he had built it for his late girlfriend who had died of cancer, how long ago was unclear. "I'm finishing up that stone terrace over there and inside will be a garden." I looked over to where he gestured and all I could see were more stacks of newspapers, stones and weeds. I don't know if the house will ever sell and if it does whether it will be monument or a McMansion. All I know is up until today I couldn't pass by without looking to see if the terraced garden had been finished.