Hoarders & the People Who Love Them

I spent a weekend earlier this month trudging through an untelevised episode of Hoarders. The home lacked electricity. The bathtub overflowed with books. One could spy the attic through the holes in the second-floor ceiling and the sky through the roof. Stacks of magazines and gizmos and gadgets from an earlier era constantly bumped into me without so much as an “excuse me.” Behind the stove, a cache of 1981 newspapers peeked out of their hiding place. This served as a cleanout masquerading as an estate sale. And, after making numerous return visits to the jaw-dropping property, I began to wonder what, exactly, separates the deceased seller from the enthusiastic buyers. Read my article @ the American Spectator on why the picker pays for the hoarder's mental illness.