The Story of This Old House

Built in 1895, if this house could talk imagine all the stories it could tell.  Births, deaths, storms,  and reunions.  The sills (underneath) are 12×12″ hand-hewn white oak and the studs are 4×4″ undressed pine lumber.  When we were renovating, thirty years ago, a man who had been born here in 1897 came to visit and as he came up the steps at the front porch he said, “Willie fell off this porch right over there and broke his leg.”  Willie was the man’s brother and he told how they had helped clear the land just north of the house so it could be cultivated.

I’m the third generation to own this farm, but I don’t think my grandparents ever lived in this house.  My daddy and his first wife (pregnant) were building a “cook room” onto the back of the house when she got sick and died in this house that winter. She left two small children. It was the flu epidemic of 1918.  In 1919 Daddy married my mother and then I came along in 1928 (born in this house).

The Home Place

We sat by the wood burning fireplace and tried to stay warm — we always said we froze on one side and burned on the other.  Our beds were in that same room and, then as time went on, Mother wanted a living room and the front door was moved over to the bedroom window — another bedroom wall was moved back creating a bedroom in what had been the hall.  Thus a living room was born.

John had to tear the “cook  room” off the back of the original house due to termite damage — the room was built right on the ground.  He also tried to level the other rooms somewhat.  The original house had no underpinning, but had pillars of sand rocks.  These rocks had wedges stuck in between them to help in leveling and steadying the house.  The wedges (made of dogwood) were called “gluts” and we’ve kept one here just to show. (The glut story has been passed down by word of mouth and I cannot find it in the dictionary — maybe you know another story).

When my half brother and sister were children in this house an old man lived upstairs and they called him “Uncle Ed” and now when we hear a strange noise we say it’s just Uncle Ed visiting.  I may be repeating myself, but one night when John and I had just gone to bed the commode in the guest bathroom flushed — and we were the only ones in the house.  John told that to a group of men who met in Geraldine and one of them said, “And you still live there?”  John having  plumbing knowledge knew exactly what had happened.

Since we’ve been here (1985) we had a Texas lady come here just to see the house — it seems her family had lived here at one time and she just wanted to walk where they had walked.

The house is located atop a knoll and there’s nearly always a breeze — lots of times, wind– felt here and thus the name “Windy Knoll.”  It’s the home place and we welcome family members to visit and remember things from their childhood as they visited grandparents here.  The boys laugh and say, “Every time Granddaddy got a new dog he named him “Cooter.”  Every dog had the same name.  John and I and our immediate family have made many memories here — although in more recent years,  As we count, there have been seven generations of this family who have walked here.  It’s definitely country living.

Another view of the Homeplace