H&E HIDEAWAY

Now I have come across a whole heap of strange camps in my travels, but H&E Hideaway is the sort of place you could walk past three times and never know a soul was living there. Tucked away in the ruins of the old Heartland and Eastern trainyard out in Ohio, it was put together by a fella folks call Player Georges, an enigmatic builder if ever there was one. He does not make much noise, does not go looking for praise, and from what I can tell, he prefers it that way. Where most folks in the wasteland build tall walls, bright signs, and enough blinking lights to guide the angels down from Heaven, Georges went the other direction. He found himself an old stairwell leading down into the earth and built a simple little one bedroom home and workshop right inside it. It is small, practical, and easy to miss, meant to give him a safe place to lay his head and work with his hands whenever his travels bring him through the area.

Down below, there is not much wasted space. A bed, a few comforts, tools close at hand, and just enough room for a man to live without feeling like the world above has followed him underground. It feels less like a grand camp and more like the sort of shelter a careful man would make when he knows better than to advertise what he owns. Up top, though, Georges has pieced together a separate workshop from whatever salvaged material he could haul in and make useful. The whole thing is built around an old defunct delivery truck that still sits there like it gave up the ghost decades ago, only now it has found a second purpose. The truck is packed full of old Nuka Cola machines and other odds and ends Georges has gathered, while scrap metal, boards, tools, and forgotten railroad junk have all been worked together into a rough little workspace that somehow fits the ruins like it has always belonged there.

The more I looked around H&E Hideaway, the more I figured the place tells you just about everything Player Georges wants you to know about him. It does not holler for attention, and it sure does not try to impress anybody. It is unassuming, hidden, useful, and easy to overlook unless you know where to look, much like the man who built it. There is something I respect about that. Scripture teaches a man not to make a show of every good thing he does, and I reckon Georges understands that better than most. In a wasteland full of folks trying mighty hard to be noticed, there is something peaceful about a place built simply to shelter its owner, keep his tools dry, and give him a quiet corner of the world. Sometimes the Lord does His best work in places nobody else is paying attention to, and I reckon H&E Hideaway is much the same.