“House has no value, and is deemed unsafe.”
1350 square feet, 3 bedrooms and 1 bathroom. About half an acre of land. $40,000.
In 1963, this home was purchased by Barney and Imogene for $6,000 which I suppose is roughly the same as $40,000 is in today’s time.
Built in 1920, several of the rooms and five porches were added on throughout the years. The kitchen was moved from one side of the house to the other, and there were at least five rooms beneath the house that were used for storage and other things.
The back yard was large and at one time housed a barn, an outhouse, a large garden full of vegetables and sunflowers, a storage building that covered a sink hole, two occupied dog houses, and a wooden porch swing.
There were lots of fights, tears, terrors, and fears that occurred on the inside, perhaps that’s why it looked like that house that is mentioned in stories, the one legends are born from. The house with the yard you don’t want your ball to roll into.
There were lessons learned, hearty meals consumed, tinselled trees covered in lights, a hand laid creek stone path.
Little girls running through water sprinklers, daffodils, rose bushes,and dogs.
Long talks. True love. Safe haven.
To me, my grandparents house is invaluable. I was practically raised within these walls. Moving around all over the county, this was the one constant home throughout my life.
It was demolished last week, and a piece of my heart went down with it.
My grandparents haven’t lived there for a few years, but I would often drive by just to steal a glimpse of what used to be. In March, I jumped out and picked a handful of daffodils my grandmother had planted. They lie pressed in a heavy book on the shelf in my living room.
To say this house had no value stings. I doubt that I’ll often drive past the place where my grandparents home perished, but when I do, I’ll remember them and the love and safety they offered me at the times I needed it most.