I may be an oddball, but I love old houses. They have so much character, they hold stories and secrets long lost to time. I've lived in some of those beauties, and honestly would take one over a new built one any day.
One old house here in town belongs to my Father-in-law (we'll call him Papa and his wife Mama from here on out.) Legend has it it was a prairie house that was moved into town, and when he bought it in 1968 it had already been in town for 50 years, and it was nearly 100 when it was moved off the prairie onto the plot of land where it still sits. Tis only a legend, but sounds interesting. The first (not original) deed we have is from 1870, and the property had been sold for the first time from the railroad company to a private buyer.
The old house has yellow asbestos siding, which covers the original wood slats of long ago. The yellow has lightened with time, but it was once vibrant and sunny. The windows of the old home have the lead glass of days gone by, original wood frames that have rotted with age and seasons. The single upstairs window that overlooks the front yard still sports the old style of tall lead glass.
The front of the house faces out to a small front yard that until recently was overloaded with beautiful flowers. Four o'clocks, irises, lilies, echinacea, zinnias, marigolds, a huge behemoth of a climbing rose, various baskets on shepherd's hooks of annuals, sprawling purple basil along the old chicken wire fence, and small growth from the abundance of bird seed. Mama loved to look out the front door's windows and see the flowers Papa had planted for her.
The enclosed front porch extended along most of the front of the house, where it'd been wide open and uncovered before a final renovation in the 1980's. Papa had several windows put in and it became a place to start seeds, keep tools and supplies, and held his huge deep freezer. The floor was wide plank aged wood. That porch funneled guests into the living room via an old skeleton key heavy wooden door. Stepping through that door, to the left is an old French door, heavy in its frame, that leads to Mama and Papa's room. Tall lead glass windows let light filter in, bouncing off old brown paneled walls and dark brown carpeting of the 80's. Back to the right of the porch door and ahead is the living room. It is long and narrow, carpeted in older brown carpet, with waving floor boards directly over dirt. The long room has dark paneled walls, with windows along the south wall that was once the outer wall of the house, now enclosed by a porch.
From the living room, a tiny room on the north side is a little bedroom with a small library. The north west side has a smaller bedroom with a built in closet that leads to under the stairs which lead to little rooms at the top. Beautiful old late 1800-early 1900's wallpaper still sticks to the plaster and slat boards on the walls that weren't paneled inside the closet space. Both little bedrooms have the old tall lead glass windows that give lots of light into the dark paneled rooms. To the east is a small dining room, with old linoleum on the floor. A vintage table and chair set is in the middle of the room, with filing cabinets and smaller tables around the perimeter, as it was the hub of the house. A small bathroom with a very heavy door veers off the south of the dining room, and the kitchen juts off to the north. The kitchen had tiny windows, old cabinetry, and vintage sink/countertop. All storage was brought in vs built in, and inside set 2 50's era tables, with a washer and dryer along side the stove. The back door at the end of the kitchen steps out to a little fenced portion of the back yard, with old brick steps from the era when our county had a brick factory.
The upstairs has not been used for anything but storage for decades. Old steep stairs lead up to the 2 or 3 rooms there, those stairs have rotted with age and lack of upkeep. They are narrow, with walls enclosing in close to create a tight space.
The back yard opens up to a little fenced area for the little dog to run freely. Surrounding the pen is grass, then a full backyard garden. The shed is old and slowly falling apart, but holds out the rain. For years it was only locked by way of a screwdriver. Then neighbors stole equipment that Papa had used. The garden spot had been tilled for 60 years, and even today if you dig down just a little, it is still very fine soil. Each year local farmer friends brough in literal tons of manure off the feed lots, and Papa dutifully (and cheerfully) tilled in each load on top of the leaves and compost he kept year round. His garden grew anything he put in, even the nightcrawlers grew to monster size.
That old house (and garden) has many many great memories. Many years of get togethers, out of state family coming to visit, helping out in the yard and garden work, etc. The years of being there and discovering little oddities that only old houses can have, I wouldn't trade the time.
The years have passed on, and the house now stands vacant. A storm 2.5 years ago knocked out power and literally tore the electric box off the house and took down the power lines. Codes enforcement would not let us reconnect without an thorough inspection and rewiring the electric from old fuses to a new breaker box. Then the codes folks wanted new gas lines. Then the water lines froze and busted. When the storm came through, Mama and Papa were already in a nursing home, due to Mama's physical health and Papa's dementia. The house was only worth $7,000 at the time, and there's no way lenders would allow us to borrow the several thousands needed to redo the old house. In their eyes it is cheaper to bulldoze and build again. So the house stands alone, an empty shell without the life inside it once had. We've given away many of the items inside that others might be able to use, and kept the sentimental value items. We had wanted to continue the family home and live there ourselves and put the work in, but that is not to happen. But memories of this old house continue on, and even though the house will one day be no more, we know the joy it once held in those old walls.
Do you have "this old house" type stories? If so, I'd love to hear from you! Comment below and let's chat!
