Story #1: A High-Society Divorcee

When I first saw a unit filled with trash bags I assumed I would find little to nothing of value.  Looking back I think out of pure boredom I found myself bidding it up to $190 over the course of the next day, I would come to realize that the trash bags were just a facade to a once glamorous life. In that unit inside of trash bags and old plastic tubs, I found the remains of a life that once was. I found Hermes scarves, gold rings, silk curtains, and a story about how wealth dissipates. Through divorce. Through prison time. Through carelessness. I found appraisals for diamond wedding rings, the heat of a divorce two decades ago. I found blueprints for a seven million dollar mansion, sold for three million right after the financial crisis. 

From the outside, it was just trash bags. But behind the plastic and dust was the quiet truth about wealth: it’s not about how much you have—it’s about how well you handle loss. Because wealth doesn’t just disappear when the money runs out. It starts disappearing when your systems break. When no one reins in the spending after the divorce. When the mansion becomes a liability. When the assets sit uninsured or untouched, waiting for someone who’s never coming back.

The deeper truth? Most people don’t budget for collapse. They assume the good years will last, and they build a lifestyle—not a life. But here’s the other truth: people think storage is preservation. That if they can pack their past into bins, it’ll retain its value. That old wealth, when sealed and boxed, somehow avoids decay. But it doesn’t. Scarves mold. Curtains yellow. Diamonds lose context. A blueprint means nothing if the property’s long gone.

Storage units don’t hold wealth. They hold denial. They’re where people put the version of themselves they can no longer afford to be—but can’t quite let go of. This unit wasn’t a tragedy because of what it held. It was a tragedy because it told the same story, again: someone made money fast, spent it faster, and had no idea what to do once the music stopped.