Ghosts Obscure Google Street View
Eerily, there’s one place where Empire lives on. As of 2017, you could still go to Google Maps Street View, drop a tiny avatar on Circle Drive, and wander around looking at parked cars and lawn furniture and folks watering their yards uninterrupted...
—Jessica Bruder
I take Bruder’s invitation and zoom in
to Circle Drive. The satellite image
of Empire, Nevada, dates back to 2009
(less than two years before the town shut down
in December). Economists cite a simple
supply and demand curve: Demand
wasn’t high for what Empire made
anymore, but Google casts the town
in spring light. In May of ‘09, the days
grow long enough to fool us into thinking
that time is on our side. A click trip
to this ghost town compels me to test
how unreliable memory can be.
When I type the address of my childhood
home, numbers on the side confirm the spot
like a marker on a grave. Familiar banana leaves
frame the building’s face, but when I click
around the corner, they disappear. A silver
Prius replaces my dad’s Mustang on the street.
Back in Empire, a father parks his truck
on Circle Drive, next to a child’s toy car.
The satellite image blurs the front yard,
as though to cover a soul. Could they see
what was coming? When my father worked
for Aerospace, little did he know
what headlines would say in December
of ’98: Boeing Raises Layoff Target to 53,000.
On street view, I look through the second
story window where my dad cursed God.
On street view, I circle the memory
of a mining town. Time is cruel in winter,
when a plant manager must break the news.
About the author
Joanne Mallari holds an MFA from the University of Nevada, Reno, and she served as the 2019 Nevada Humanities Poet in Residence. Her debut chapbook, Daughter Tongue, is available from Kelsay Books.