Old house dilemma solved – for now…

The only way to solve it was to buy it.  But it will continue to be for sale – to the person who loves it for its history and its features and doesn’t want to knock it down.  We had to buy it to keep it safe.  The restoration will be a long, slow process as we are otherwise engaged in a very long and time consuming project elsewhere.  But little by little we will peel away the awful things that have happened to it – vinyl siding, home depot windows, layers of neglect.  The chimney will be rebuilt.  Because of its location, this million dollar project will be reclaimed for much less and may need fundraising efforts.  I am thinking of selling bricks.  Perhaps for a small fee one can have their name live forever on a brick in the to-be-rebuilt attic chimney of the Asahel Olcott house.

There will be little or no profit here, at least financially.  This is not an upscale neighborhood.  It is a humble farming community, desirable only to the folks sensitive enough to value the quiet ambiance of this street along the Great River, that brought initially the Dutch and then the folks from Dorchester to settle here, Connecticut’s first town.  The profit is to the street, to the neighbors, and to Connecticut’s rich history.  We are doing this out of respect for Asahel Olcott who responded in 1775 to the Lexington Alarm.  Now we’ve responded to his alarm, to preserve the homes of our ancestors, who not only fought for our freedom, but gave us a rich architectural heritage that sustains us physically, aesthetically and psychologically.  We still wonder at, and learn from, their courage, their efforts, their class.

Will keep you posted on the progress.

Old House Dilemma

It’s been a while – but I wanted to write about a dilemma that my neighborhood is facing now and that many neighborhoods will be facing in the coming years regarding the preservation of our old homes.

An 18th century house that was in the same family for years and not properly maintained, is in danger of being demolished.   We used to find these houses somewhere in the countryside, some half standing, some collapsed into their cellar holes.  But this one stands proudly in a neighborhood of other historic houses and is a prominent member of a National Historic Register District.

We work hard to maintain our own homes.  How do you politely ask your neighbor to please maintain the integrity of his?   Can you ask – when was the last time you checked your sills?  Can you say – your brownstone foundation is lovely, but it’s caving in a bit here, can you fix it???

No one ever does that.  Then the house goes on the market for a song and someone buys it because they just want to live on Main Street because it has all the charm and character they want.  But then it turns out they don’t want the house after all because it will cost too much to fix to their liking and lifestyle, so they decide to knock it down.  Next thing you know, another plastic spanking new maintenance free, history free, house is in its place.

If everyone did that with the 18th century houses that need work, well, goodbye history, goodbye charm.

And so here we are.  The dilemma.  How do we reach the soul of the new owners, teach them to be sensitive, to feel the wonder and awe that we  have for the character and charm of the old house whose every hand planed board we cherish?  Whose paneling and plaster walls and crooked floors mean more to us than a neighborhood of Toll Brothers homes????  Those homes are FINE for people who want to live in new and shiny, and only want to visit ours!

But our neighborhood is a part of American history.  It is packed with the stories of farmers and furniture makers, merchants and theologians, governors and silversmiths, stories that are kept alive and proudly displayed in the architecture they created, the houses they lived in!   For every house we lose, we lose another essential piece of the history of who we are and how we got here.

So I pose our dilemma to anyone who may read this.  The new owner of the Olcott House, circa 1750 – 1781 – a center chimney colonial with wide pine floors, fireplaces, raised paneling, and a Beverly jog that has a beautifully paneled corner fireplace – has decided that the cost to fix it will be more than the cost to knock it down and build a new one.  They decided it must go.  The brownstone foundation in one corner in the basement is “caving in”, the sills are rotted, interior alterations too many.   Sounds like a typical restoration to me.  If I had examined the house before buying it, I would have weighed these issues before handing over a check.  I would have known what I was in for.  Or I would have walked away and left it for the next guy who wanted this old house, wanted to be a part of its history more than anything.

What do you think?  It is a tough decision, that many neighborhoods will have to tackle.  At some point, is an old house just a total loss and we have to let it go?  Yes, sometimes.  But this one is restorable.   So, if the cost to restore is more than the cost to knock it down and build new – do you think we need let it go?  Feel free to weigh in.  Here’s a link to a Facebook page called Historic Hartford – a wonderful resource – for info, tours, workshops, history – in the Hartford area and all of New England.   Just scroll down to Olcott House – and let us know what you think!

New England Doorways

Doorways of Old Main Street

Who doesn’t love a beautiful doorway?  Here are twenty five historic doorways from lovely old Main Street, but they could be from almost any neighborhood in New England.  These entrances are on Connecticut River Valley homes spanning two centuries – 1698 to 1898 – and are available as 12 x 18 posters at only $20 a piece.  I put this together myself – from snapping the photos to learning some 21st century technology in the process – all for the benefit of the South Windsor Historical Society.  It was fun to do, and the end result is a wonderful piece to hang anywhere in your home.  It looks especially charming in a barn wood frame, and makes a great gift for the holidays.  To order a poster, send your check, made out to the South Windsor Historical Society, for $20 plus $5 for shipping, and mail to:

Restoring Home, PO Box 362, East Windsor Hill, CT 06028.

You can also email me at restoringhome [at] gmail [dot] com if you have any questions.

Have a wonderful holiday!

Ct Valley Doorways

It’s one thing to be lucky enough to have a magnificent 18th century pedimented doorway on your home – but another thing altogether, quite amazing really, to have three!    Built in 1698, our home was added onto and “improved” in the mid 18th century by replacing the old diamond leaded casement windows with double hung 12/8’s.  Two doorways were added at the side and trimmed with triangular pediment doorways with carved rosettes, while the front door received the same treatment but without rosettes.  Except for one other home nearby, ours is the only one left in town to display these relics of “an 18th century flowering” along the CT River Valley, as it was called by Amelia Miller in her book on CT River Valley Doorways.

First, I want to share a photo of the entrances on the other house I mentioned.  The craftsmen who created these door surrounds probably also worked on ours.  This particular house has the mother of all scroll pediment doorways.  Besides that prize, there are two triangular pediment doorways at its side.  Here is a photo I took recently of them.  Now, one must genuflect, yes right there in the street, before the scroll pediment with its original double doors and hardware.  You will not find a more exceptional doorway anywhere.  Note the mimicking of the scroll at the pedestal base as well as in the bottom panels of the doors; the elaborately moulded entablature, foliated carvings, dentil mouldings, curve of the scroll, its carved six pointed star.  It is all beyond words.

There were several other houses nearby with triangular pedimented doorways, but they are now lost, as so many were in the early years of the 20th century.  Now, only two remain, testaments to the 18th century craftsmen of the CT River Valley.   A few of these men carved their way through the river valley from Wethersfield, CT to Deerfield, MA hired by the “nouveau riche” of the day, mid 18th century merchants, ministers and entrepreneurs, who could afford these services and wished to display them.  Homes along the river were embellished with scroll, triangular or flat pediment doorways by craftsmen anxious to express their creativity and display their talents, each trying to out-do the other.  There would be some variation in their styles, from the angle of the pediment to the carvings in the capitals.  Surely there was a healthy yet friendly competition, the fruits of which we get to marvel at today.

Triangular pediment with rosettes

Below is a photo of the three doorways of our own house, as found.   Original doors were missing, but thanks to early photos, we would reproduce them.  The two with rosettes are the matching side door surrounds, and the center one is the front.

Most of the original fabric of the entrances were in tact, but along with the sills beneath them, much of their bottom sections were missing.  Traces of the the design remained in outline on the backers, thus enabling us to accurately reproduce and replace them.  Using a strong magnifying glass to closely view the original details in 19th century photos of the house, we were able to make out the design and panel arrangements of the original doors that were in these openings.  Using old boards, that before mentioned ten dollar table saw and a few hand tools, our reproduction doors were fabricated – right there in the front room behind that CT Valley entrance.

Here’s a wonderful photo of a house now gone, that once sat directly across from ours.  It was truly unique with its brick ends, pedimented windows and front door.  Built by Jacob and Abigail’s son, Timothy, by the time this photo was taken it had seen better days.  There is a very nice lady living in the prim, white, four square house her uncle built in its place, after demolishing this one.  I can’t begrudge her for it, or her uncle, as I’m sure it was times like these in which the owners found themselves without the means to maintain it.   But it was certainly a gem.