Urban Exploration - The Christiane House

It is with immense sadness that we announce the passing of Christiane in January 2026. May this documentary be a great tribute to her.

We received photos from a traveler and compiled them into a historical summary.

Maison Christiane is an urbex site of great modesty; the house has lost all its charm due to extensive looting. In return, however, it represents an emotional treasure trove in terms of family archaeology.

We are at the devastatingly close edge of being the last custodians of this family's memory. Everything has vanished into abandonment. The graves of the parents and the two eldest sisters are buried under mountains of weeds. Ancient photos rot beneath piles of crumbling filth; they bear witness to a desperate urgency. Can we consider such total oblivion, such negation, an injustice? No stones are being cast—we know what caused this.

What are we to do with this memory in our hands? On one side, it is buried under mold and the scars of vandalism; on the other, everything is still possible to bring light: to bring "them" light. This documentary is inevitably dedicated to the memory of Denise, Roseline, and Christiane.

The genealogical research was entirely conducted by Aude FLORENCE and completed by Claude ALAIN. Documentary walk with Camille. Immense thanks to Maryline from the town hall, who offered radically precious (and indispensable!) help.

The Abandoned House

It is discreet—a small terraced house on a main street. Devoured by Virginia creeper, one must be observant to detect its abandonment. Yet, it is wide open to the elements. The interior reveals vandalism of extreme ferocity.

You must not imagine it was always like this. I spent hours and hours tidying this house so that the place could regain a minimum of dignity. I managed the ground floor; the upper floor was unapproachable, too moldy. Look at the state upstairs—well, the downstairs was just like that. How can people show such a lack of respect for the lives of the elders, of "our" elders?

Camille points out that everything smells like cat urine. The inside of the fridge is a weapon of mass destruction. Dozens of trays—pre-packaged meals—have "passed away." The interior is black, liquid, and gives off an atomic stench.

The house turns out to be almost a "zero-star" site that one usually leaves quickly, disappointed. Clearly, from an exclusively urbex point of view, it doesn't scream "hidden gem." However, the foul and moldy piles reveal photos and letters. Beyond the urbex, a page of family archaeology opens. One might almost think it bland. Far from it; this is the most touching family of the year.

The Grandparents: A Brief Genealogical Overview

The paternal grandparents are Louis and Mathilde. The couple came from Portes and passed away in Saint-Florent-sur-Auzonnet. Louis was born in 1866 and died in 1921. He was a miner. Mathilde was born in 1865 and died in 1907. The maternal grandparents are Adolphe and Marie. The couple came from La Vernarède. Adolphe was born in 1871. Marie was born in 1878. He was a miner; she was a seamstress.

The Parents

The parents are Henri and Denise. Henri was born in May 1895 and died in November 1957 at the age of 62. Denise was born in September 1898 and died in January 1985 at the age of 87. In our documentary, we call her "Denise-Mom," as one of her daughters is also named Denise.

Henri had an older brother, Emir, born in 1891, who, in the 1936 census, lived in a house that was effectively next door. The latter was educated and employed by the town hall. An old photo annotated by Christiane testifies that he worked at the Assize Court. He also had a younger brother, Alphonse, born in 1899. Described as sickly and tubercular, he was discharged from service. Henri worked as a laborer in the 1919 census, an employee in 1921, and a rural policeman (garde-champêtre) in 1936.

The parents' grave was found in the town cemetery. This family vault contains the burials of relatives: the daughter Roseline (1932–2000) with her husband André (1935–1983), Louis (1899–1959), and Jean-François (1909–1970). A very long administrative inquiry is underway concerning "Denise-the-daughter." According to the funeral directors, she is buried there, though no plaque currently identifies her.

The daughters

Henri and "Denise-Mom" had three daughters: Denise, born in July 1920 and deceased in January 2004 at the age of 84. Roseline, born in 1931 and deceased in November 2000 at the age of 68. She was married to André and lived in Bagnols-sur-Cèze. Christiane, born in 1935. She lived for 30 years with her partner, Max. She was the final occupant of the house.

The birth certificate of "Denise-the-daughter" is surprising at first glance; we read that she was adopted as a Ward of the Nation (Pupille de la Nation) by a judgment of the Alès civil court in 1923—crossed out—1933. Typically, this procedure occurs when one of the parents has died, for example in the war. However, our research shows without any ambiguity that this was not the case here.

Henri was wounded during the Great War. While not classified as fully disabled, he suffered from a handicap that meant he earned less of a living afterward, as he was less effective in his work. Re-reading Henri’s military records, this seems logical. His injury and a subsequent illness kept him in the hospital for long stretches: six months and four months respectively. In such cases, the State covered the child's schooling costs and provided an allowance. A commission would then decide on the child's academic path based on their results. This could be done early on or later—for example, if the child wished to study beyond the Brevet (lower secondary school certificate). This timing seems to match Denise’s age in 1933. The parents did not lose their parental rights; it was simply the State providing aid "for services rendered."

As for Christiane, we moved heaven and earth to find her. If there is anyone who has truly touched my heart, goodness, it is her!

She lived with Max for a long time. Max suffered from arterial problems and died prematurely without leaving a will. This left Christiane in a Kafkaesque situation. Christiane was a pharmacist in the neighboring village. She received a pension from the mining company. Naturally very modest and discreet, she lived without pomp—a conscious choice, a life of simplicity. She finally left the house in 2014.