SOME ONLINE guidebooks still list the old building, a block north of Normanna’s main street on Highway 181, as the Historical Museum. But it has long lost that designation. Today, it is surrounded by trees and weeds that make it a challenge to reach the front porch — what’s left of it. The columns are askew, making it look as if it would collapse with one good winter’s wind. The holes in the roof fill the attic with a ghostly light — appropriate for Hallowe’en. But the only thing that haunts it are garden spiders and, soon, they too will disappear – their only evidence, a cobweb deteriorating like the museum itself. Inside is the detritus of abandonment – all decorated with pieces of collapsing ceiling: faded furniture, a vacuum cleaner, old brooms and mops, an electric typewriter, a wire rack for 45 r.p.m. records, a floor fan, a television set, a wall plaque proclaiming “The Lord is my Shepherd,” and, tucked in a corner, an upright piano waiting to sing just one more song.