A Priceless Gift: History of our Home

It's so easy to take for granted the history that lies within the walls of our olive on Olive. One hundred years is hard to fathom.

We have heard bits and pieces of the house's history from neighbors, but I was thrilled this weekend to hear from a gentleman who lived here with his parents and siblings for many years. He saw my blog and reached out to me on Facebook, and I will forever be grateful for the stories and photos he shared. I look forward to sharing many more with you all, and hope you enjoy them as much as we have!

Bryan Terhune, the youngest of five children, was nearly 5 years old when his family moved into this house in 1961. His parents owned the house until 2005, when Bryan's father sold it to the couple we purchased it from.

When I received the message from Bryan explaining how he grew up in this house, I asked if he had any stories or photos he might could share. I can say it no better than he did, so...in his own words:


"...The house has a very warm spirit and was a wonderful house for growing up. But I have to admit, we were a large family of 'rough and tumble' kids. When we lived in the house it was very careworn."

Bryan described the yard as having worn patches that reflected more of a sports practice field than a manicured lawn, sure signs of the five children who were living there.

"When we moved in, the interior walls still had the layers of wallpaper that grew worn and ratted with young children and teenagers bouncing around the house. I remember as a little kid punching holes in the corners where the wallpaper was loosely attached. So there were places where you could see the cheesecloth nailed to the boards and the cold winter wind made the house drafty and uncomfortable. On the other hand, the fireplaces made for a very close and warm gathering place on those cold winter nights. 

"By the time we moved in, the prior owner - an old-maiden piano teacher named Hattie-Laura McConnell, who had grown up in the house - had replaced the old coal-burning furnace in the basement with a gas furnace. But the remnants of nearly 50 years of burning coal still remained - tiny charred coal pebbles in the back yard and (as you discovered) coal ash that smoked its way into the attic."

I have to admit that at this point in reading Bryan's message, I breathed a sigh of relief. It most certainly was not mold we found in the ceiling upstairs! It was coal ash!! WHEW!

Bryan went on to tell of his brother finding a Civil War shell in the backyard, and how he and his siblings liked to fabricate ghost stories about the house because, as he pointed out, "the character of the big old house lends itself to that."

Bryan's brother Dan and their father working outside the house in October 1962. This is the entrance on the east side of the house.

I so enjoyed reading of Bryan's memories of the creaks in the floors that we have grown to love so well (except for that occasional moment when I freeze or make David stop in his tracks to make sure our heading up to bed hasn't woken Sleeping Beauty - a.k.a. Sagan - up).

"We have stories of trying to sneak downstairs early on Christmas morning to see what Santa brought, only to be turned back to bed because the boards in the upstairs hallway creaked and Mom and Dad sent us back to bed."

To read of the summer nights Bryan and his family enjoyed in the house was beautiful.

"The house wasn't air conditioned when we were growing up and we had a big exhaust fan mounted in the window on the landing that required all the doors and windows to be left open for cross-ventilation. But it made summer nights breezy and summer sleep with fireflies flickering, crickets chirping, and far away trains peaceful and sweet. Your days and nights may be difficult at times in the old house; I know they were often difficult for my parents and the family. But you have a treasure."

In my conversation with Bryan, I took the opportunity to ask about some of the details of the house, specifically the exterior. Bryan explained that the house was a light shade of gray when they moved in and a little deeper gray when they had it painted. The house did not have storm windows when he moved in with his family. There were screens with wooden frames that were painted black, and the trim was painted white. The porch railing that is now on the house was added in the 1990s.

Bryan and his sister atop shingles that were being put on the house in August 1967. Notice the house was gray and there were no railings like are now on the house.

David, Sagan and I have grown to love this house in the short two and a half months we've lived here. What makes us love it even more are the neighbors and friends we have gained. And what makes us love it most is to know how much love it has received and given over the past 100 years. I can say it no better than Bryan did...

"I look forward to see how you bring your own personality to the house and I hope your family loves your life there half as much as we did."

Thanks for sharing your family's story, Bryan. We look forward to sharing many more, and to meeting you some day!