Old shutters lay against a barn. Paint chips crack off their soggy boards, many rains have run over their old faces. They were once displayed proudly on Susie Fitzgerald’s home. She painted them by hand every 2 years a brilliant red.

“My one bold statement to the world,” she used to say.

The rest of the house was a conservative off-white, like the color of cream from a cow. She grew up during a time when making oneself known was not esteemed. At night, she would close the shutters and dance wildly to The Chantels and The Bobbettes.

Now, if you put your ear close enough to the shutters you can hear the rhythm and beats of Elvis and Patsy Cline. Items once cherished hold treasures forever.