Houses

I pass a couple of houses on the way to work (actually, I pass more than a couple, but 2 of them really stand out to me). The first house is one that I get a kick out of seeing. It one that burned 7-8 years ago. I hadn’t really noticed the house before then, although I did know that a family with kids stayed in it (there were always toys in the front yard – even though the yard was neatly kept). It seemed that it was keeping an upbeat attitude even though it had clearly fallen on tough times.

I never read about, or heard about, the fire – just one day while I was driving to work, I noticed that the doors and windows were knocked out and there were soot marks on the frames. Although most of the roof and the exterior of the house seemed to be more or less intact, the inside appeared pretty much gutted.

The house was by no means young, but not that old as far as those things go around here. It was probably 80-100 years old and was not in the best of shape before it burned; the paint was peeling and the porch was sagging among other things (and I have no idea what the inside was like). To the casual examination, there was nothing special about the house; it wasn't overly large or even grand in nature. I expected the insurance company to have it torn down and a new house to be built in its place.

What I did not expect was for the windows and doors to be boarded up and the place to be standing there for the next couple of years vacant. It was a forlorn sight; peeling paint, soot-blackened door and window frames that enclosed plywood instead of glass, sagging porch and with the lawn unkempt.

Weird as it is, I felt sorry for the house. Although it had been in disrepair, it seemed that it had contained a loving family that was a bit down on their luck. I, of course, knew absolutely nothing about the family or the house, but that is what I conjured up in my mind. At that juncture, it seemed sad and lonely and bewildered. The husk seemed especially bleak during the drab gray of a cold and sunless winter day or when it was snowing and everything seemed fresh around the house – but the house was untouched by any beauty that the snowfall could bestow.

A couple of years later, the house and land went up for sale. It could not have had much of a price on it and it was sold within weeks. I imagined at the time that a contractor bought it and would knock the husk of a building down to build a nice new house.

To my amazement and surprise, the building was not torn down. It was painstakingly refurbished right down to the porch that ran the length of the house. I don’t know how much of the original house was saved during the refurbish, but the outside of it looked exactly as it had before the fire (with a much better paint job and the porch nice and straight). After the refurbish, it went up for sale again but it didn’t take too long for someone to buy it

Now, every time I drive by it, I smile to myself. The house no longer looks forlorn – rather it seems happy and content to have a family to call its own again. And the family, for its part, seems to have taken good care of the house in the last 5-6 years.

A couple of miles further down the road, another house was being built around the time the first house burned. Each day I passed it, I could see a little more of the work being done to complete it. One of the strange things I noticed as it was being built was that there were few windows being used. Even though it has two floor above ground and a basement (or crawl space), it has just 2 small windows in front, and one small window on one side. The small window at the side of the house, is in the basement, not on one of the upper floors. I don't imagine there are too many more windows at the back of the house either

WS and I discussed the house one time when we passed and we both agreed it was odd not to have at least a few more windows in the building. After the house was completed and sold, I never got any special vibes off the house; it was just there, doing its time.

Apparently, not too many other people are getting much off the house either. It has been sold 5 times in the 8 or so years since it was built. In fact, usually the house is empty for several months (even up to 6 months) before someone finally moves in. I have felt sorry for this house too. Although it has been a bit sad to see the house empty so much of the time, it is sadder to see that it hasn’t developed much of a personality. It still seems to be there, just doing its time – much like some mill workers that go in and just do their job, then go home – they’re just putting in their time for a paycheck and counting off the days to retirement.

I have even wondered if the house’s apathy is a bringer of bad luck. Does everyone who buys it end up losing their job, and then have to sell the house? Is that why so many people have moved in and out? There is not another house on my morning commute that has been sold as often as this one, there has to be a reason.

I keep hoping that the house will, one day, find the owner that can bring out the shine in it. I have not seen any evidence that the current owners, which have been there about a year, are the ones to do it, but maybe these things take time. Maybe it is waiting for some kids or dogs to liven up the place and bring it out of its funk. I’ve seen no evidence of either with any of the owners. Heck, I don’t recall actually seeing people there – just different vehicles in the driveway after each sale and indoor lighting going on and off. It just seems to be a place of perpetual gloominess.

Isn’t it silly how I attribute emotions to these houses?

Comments

[Cop Car]

Not so much silly, Bogie. You've posted a beautiful piece on the houses. Keep up the good work!