A long time ago it used to be the summer home of a wealthy man but time was not kind to it. Now, it was a beat-up boarded-up mansion on a large empty lot by the river.
We called it the Old Golf Course House. It looked like a haunted mansion from a horror movie.
We often broke into the place for the thrill of it. If we were stopped by the police on the grounds, we'd give them fake names that closely resembled our real names. We did this so our buddies could easily remember our aliases.
Real estate developers wanted to build there but the place was protected by some historical preservation law. It was protected until the day it burnt down in the middle of the night.
Nothing remains of the Old Golf Course House and the land is now full of residential buildings. None of the people responsible needed to have fake names that they could give to the police in case they were stopped.