I do adore history. And the history of things. I feel that structures hold the imprints of spirits and memories of those that came before. All you have to do is walk into a place to get the heebie jeebies and know something tragic happened there or to walk into a place and feel a wonderful sense of calm to know what I mean.
When we walked into the house we are buying Thursday I felt like I was in someone’s Grandma’s house. I could not explain this but I saw children running through and laughter and celebrations and quiet contemplations in the light filled home.
The internet has made it rather easy to find out history. A few clicks of Google and I had found the names of all the owners of the house and then the history of the family that was there for seventy five years.
Leslie was eighteen, and his lovely wife, Jane was twenty-two. They came from Kansas and the newly married couple built this house in 1925. Since the bedrooms and bathroom were not built on until 1952, their growing family lived in close quarters indeed. Their children, Elmer, Leslie, Weslie, Dorothy, Ruth, and Donelda (I just love old names.) grew up in this home and it was passed to Elmer then to Elmer’s daughter until it was sold in 2000. It was lost to the bank a few years after and in the past six years, three owners have fixed and flipped or rented the home. My beloved grandfather’s name and my son’s middle name is Elmer and I feel its kismet.
I found the grandson who still lives in Pueblo and I am extremely tempted to pen him a letter to see what memories he may still carry.
Soon we will add a lifetime of memories and children and grandchildren and celebrations of our own to that beautiful dwelling. I shall indeed treasure it.