House Hunters (Part One)

The title of this post has nothing to do with the HGTV show called House Hunters. I have bought two houses in my life. On neither occasion was it a matter of looking at three different houses AND making a decision all within one hour! If only....

The first house I bought -- all by myself -- was in Haddonfield, New Jersey. That was a six-month effort back in 1991. In those days, there was no realtor.com or zillow.com or any of the other internet sites and apps that provide pictures, facts, and other information about every single house for sale anywhere in the country. Rather, back then, a house hunter pretty much had to contact a real estate agent, describe what the house hunter wanted, and leave it to the agent to go through the Multiple Listing Service book of black and white pictures and descriptions, decide which houses fit the client's description, and then drive the person from house to house in search of the perfect home. My agent's name was Miriam. 

From the beginning, Miriam wanted me to see a house on Prospect Road. I refused, telling her that it was the ugliest house in Haddonfield. It had a horrible dormer out front, and, except for the roof and the handrails up the front steps, it was nothing but white. The clapboard was white. The trim around the windows was white. The three-season porch had been enclosed with what appeared to be a row of storm doors without handles -- again all of them white. The outside door was white. White. White. White. There was no depth. There was no charm. Just white.

Instead, for six months, Miriam took me from house to house within my budget, none of which was suitable. The only houses within my budget needed work, but I would not be able to have the work completed, as I would have spent all my money on buying the house and then have a mortgage to pay every month! Plus, on my budget, any house I would buy would have only one bathroom.

One Saturday, six months in, we were scheduled to look at houses -- yet again. When I met Miriam, I told her that this was it, that if I didn't find a house that day, I was going to take a break from looking for a while. She showed me a few more houses that didn't work for me. When we were ready to part, Miriam said to me, "Kathryn, there's an open house at Prospect Road today. Just go and take a look." I was annoyed, told her that I was really busy that day, but promised that I would try to get there. The open house was from 2:00 to 4:00. During that time, I had a lengthy hair salon appointment. 

My hair appointment concluded well after 3:30. The last thing I wanted to do was look at the ugliest house in town. Yet, I thought to myself, "Go look at it so that Miriam leaves you alone." I didn't get to the open house until 3:55, exactly five minutes before it was over. As I walked up the steps and onto the front porch, I was frustrated because this was just a waste of time that I didn't have in the first place, and I was worried that the real estate agent in charge of the open house would be annoyed that I was showing up basically when it was over.

Opening the outside door and stepping onto the faded Berber carpet covering the porch floor did nothing to change my attitude about or lack of interest in this house. I held my breath, as I approached the entry door to the house. As I then turned the handle, I dreaded what I would encounter inside. Slowly, I opened the door and stepped inside. Immediately, instinctively, and with certainty, I knew that the ugliest house in Haddonfield was "the one." I was home! I was in love. THIS WAS IT!! By the next day, the agreement of sale was drawn up and signed. Isn't that a hoot?!

The house wasn't perfect, by any means. It had only one bathroom, but the structure and mechanics were in good enough shape and, most importantly, without the need for any major work. The house was small (1200 square feet), but it was just Christina and me at the time. As for the hideous dormer and the porch enclosed by what appeared to be white storm doors without handles, well, they were just the price that had to be paid for a beautiful, warm and cozy interior: original, unpainted chestnut woodwork and oak flooring with walnut inlays that had been arranged in beautiful patterns!!! I had seen nothing like that in any of the houses I had viewed. At the time, unpainted woodwork was a rarity, as (I once read) it was all the rage to paint woodwork after one of the World Wars, I think. Maybe it was Korea. I'm not sure anymore, but it seemed as though every single house I had looked at during those six months had painted woodwork. In addition, chestnut woodwork was prized because a blight in the early 20th century had destroyed the chestnut trees, which produced a beautiful, hardy wood widely used in the construction of houses that could no longer be acquired. (The house was built in approximately 1923.) 

Almost as soon as Christina and I moved in, I had the oak floors with walnut inlays refinished. My dear, most darling brother, spent many hours stripping the tired dark stain and varnish and then putting a coat of polyurethane on top of the beautiful chestnut color that had emerged. I loved my house!

Over the years, I was able to give the outside a bit of depth. The window trim and the foundation were painted a dark green. One of my neighbors painted the handle-less screen doors and the entry door with contrasting shades of dark and light green. In my view, this was a significant improvement! I don't know what other people thought, but I didn't care. There was now a big, purple Victorian house in town, for Pete's sake. This couldn't be so bad.

The Exterior of Prospect Road

Ignore the Staging and Look at That Woodwork!

Look At That Floor!

Christina grew up in that house, where she lived for twenty-one years, and I lived for twenty-two years. When TSO joined us, he was there for eight years. Thanks to him, we were able to add a half bath on the first floor.

Christina married Lou in 2012. She and I and her bridesmaids had our hair and make up done at the dining room table. It was the last big event to take place at that house. One year later, Prospect Road had become a memory, and Christina's baby shower was held at Jim's and my marital home in the Land o' Lakes. Although Christina was sad that we had sold her "childhood home," she understood that TSO and I really needed to have a home that, together, we picked and chose, just as she and her now husband had done. Little did she know that the house in the Land o' Lakes would prove to be the location of many wonderful memories for her and her children, which they never would have had on Prospect Road.

To be continued....