I’m sure you’ve seen them as we have. Beautiful, old houses that have fallen into such disrepair. Perhaps they have a hole in the roof. Maybe the front porch has fallen off. Perhaps the house is barely visible because of the weeds.
Way back when we were deconstructing old houses, we often reached out to the owners of dilapidated properties to see if they were interested in demolishing them. If we were told “no”, it was usually one of three reasons:
The property was owned by multiple individuals, usually heirs to the property, and everyone could not agree on what to do with the property.
The owners planned to fix it up (and maybe they will, but so far, years later, they haven’t).
I have to say, though, that the most common reason was this:
We were often told, “Well that was my grandma’s house, and it means a lot to me so, no, I’m not interested.”
Our frustration was that it was so clear to us that the house would continue to slowly disintegrate to the ground. It seemed like a waste to us. Why wouldn’t someone want materials in the old home to live a new life? But as I’ve had time to think about it, it has occurred to me that perhaps that’s what the owner wanted: seeing their house and the memories of it slowly be consumed by the earth. A burial, “dust to dust”, if you will.
P.S. A sincere “thank you” is extended to Rodney Harvey for allowing me to share and slightly modify his gorgeous photograph. If you love abandoned houses, nature, old buildings, signs, and vintage details like I do, you must check out his Flickr photostream sometime.
Love that quote!
Thanks a bunch, Kim! And thanks for dropping by!
We have a very cool house in our neighborhood, just across the river from the capitol building, made of stone but otherwise caving in. It is tied up with heirs not wanting to let Grandma’s house be sold, yet no one has done anything to it for over 15 yrs. Prime property, single floor plan, gorgeous yard. Sigh.
PS – that’s a very cool-looking house. Looks like something out of Gone With the WInd.
Yes, that sounds oh-so-familiar. I just don’t get it.
The old home is wonderful. I bet it was majestic in the not-too-distant past. Still is, frankly.
Old houses tell stories. Deep and sometimes dark. But they keep secrets – often forever. For those of us who want to know the story, it is difficult to understand why there are so few details and many times, previous owners have very little to say. A former family home will always have sentimental value. I moved from Connecticut in ’73 at the age of 6. I still remember that house. The growling plumbing, the scary dark cellar with the fire breathing dragon (oil fired furnace) and the hatchway from outside down into the laundry room. Fortunately it is still occupied and very much alive and on occasion, I have looked at it on Google Street View and it takes me back to the time where my father and uncle painted the cape flat black while we swam in the above ground pool. I remember the neighbor ladies who used to pay me in peanut butter cookies for shoveling snow off their porch steps and the various places I left blood when I would do one dumb kid thing or another.
Seeing a memory from the owner’s point of view means that old dilapidated overgrown home is still very much alive! Summers spent visiting, or the old wall upstairs where their artwork still exists under the years of paint and history on the walls. My home from age 7 to 18 is still in the family and while it has been completely renovated, I still call my room my room. Even though it isn’t really mine. The old place harbors memories for all of us and sometimes it is just too hard to let those go. When my mom passed away, my sister and brother and I got the house and we will likely keep it for ourselves forever (even though I live only 8 miles away). It keeps our stories.
Our railroad house has 119 years of stories within the walls. The property itself is part of the Mexican land grants of the early 1800s before the Civil War. So much history! The many others who have had the pleasure of living there, some before running water or electricity (where was that outhouse again?). I will spend the rest of my days learning its story. Learning their stories as well. Who dug the old rock well? Who’s child wrote on the shiplap in the upstairs bathroom closet? Who was the last poor soul who had to crawl under that enormous piece of history? I am intrigued really. And while I too would wonder how someone would let a home just return to dust, I can see many reasons to keep it for memory sake because it holds the stories of who we are and how we got there.
Thank you for this. I am always looking forward to Friday! Still kind of sad you are not deconstructing history because I truly enjoyed the stories of these old house which magically appeared in every wall, floor board, and doorway. The character of a scratch or scuff – the peeling paint or the door that could no longer close. Ahhh memories. They are intrinsically valuable to the human experience!
Many blessings,
Bill Cromack
Palestine, TX
Yes, I certainly agree. I’m certainly not trying to diminish other people’s memories of their ancestor’s homes. But I do believe memories and your love for an old place can live on their photos and memories, and there is something special in knowing that, if an old house is salvaged, it can be resurrected to live on. When I sold my house in Austin (and I still grieve it to this day), it gave me comfort to know that laughter would live on within its walls. I’ve often thought about writing teh current owners and sharing photos of the renovation I did and sharing my memories. So far, I have not found the time or the “want to” to do that. Maybe when it’s less painful I will.
Anyway, I do agree with your point of view as well, and we have never “shamed” anyone we’ve ever spoken with when they tell us “no”. We just say “thank you” and move on.
And I do believe and agree that old homes keep memories and have souls. Perhaps they want to be left alone as well.
We are certainly not saying “goodbye forever” to salvaging old homes, but I can’t imagine that we will ever deconstruct multiple houses in a row. Mark and I are not getting any younger, and it’s hot, dirty work.
Still very much looking forward to meeting you and your wife one day, Bill.
Thank you Kim. I didn’t mean to express that you were somehow putting people on the spot. I too would rather deconstruct a dying old home before all of its beauty fades. There is an innate appreciation involved in maintaining history. We have windows that we picked up from a Palestine house that was being deconstructed before demolition. The home was a brilliant testament to the beginnings of Palestine and stood prominently on a corner slowly dying. We feel blessed that the historic commission was able to get many of the architectural pieces that made the home special. Now just an empty commercial lot across the street from the humble Dogwood Diner on Palestine Ave and historic Link Street. We wish we could have disassembled it ourselves! Our home is simple. Architecturally deprived in a way but that is what drew us to it. It is a blank canvas. It will never be Queen Anne. It is a simple Folk Victorian farmhouse. We have spoken with the man we bought it from but as best I can tell, it is a sore subject with him that he had to give it up (divorce) or maybe he just wasn’t attached to it as he traveled a lot. We did however start communicating with the lady who first turned it into the Bed & Breakfast at Tiffany’s after writer Osjetea Briggs was no longer able to care for herself. Carrie has been a blessing to us for information and furnishings from her B&B days. The home is beautifully provisioned and waiting for us. Each room has a personality though they are not named yet. We will have to wait until we are there full time to decide on names as it will need us to ‘feel’ the space. I can imagine the mess, grime, time, blood and sweat that deconstruction involves. It is amazing how much grime can get behind 100+ year old walls and floors. I would never have spoken with a previous owner had I not reached out and seriously, it is only because of my intense interest that I have been able to gain so much! It has been fun in a way. Well except for the guy we bought it from. He was no fun. I guess after you spend 95k on improvements and then lose out in the end it can make a man pretty sour. I am so impressed by the amount of dedication and love you put into your home. What a beautiful restoration! Hope you have a wonderful week!
Oh, gosh, I didn’t think that at all, Bill, and I’m sorry if my words made you feel like I was offended! Not at all. You should really consider starting a blog when you retire, to tell more about your home and life in Palestine. You are such a great writer!