Junk B Gone

About Junk B Gone

Georgetown sits low along the Duwamish, warehouses and rail spurs under a sky that stays the same flat gray for most of a winter week. A snow or ice storm through here tends to leave more than snow behind — broken pallets, torn awnings, tree limbs down across loading areas and driveways all mixed in with what needs to be shoveled. This crew hauls it all out together: the snow scraped off a driveway, the debris a storm knocked loose, whatever's blocking a path back to work. The river stays the same brown-gray whether it's thirty degrees or fifty, running past the same industrial blocks regardless of the weather above it. A cleared driveway and an empty loading dock, swept back down to concrete, is what counts as done here.