After 6 years, I'm kind of sad to see the little house on the market, but I hope that I can find someone who'll love it as much as I have.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Fetter House - est. 1927
A few years ago, two people were walking up my driveway...pointing at the house and smiling. They were surprised when I came out and said they didn't want to bother me, but I finally got it out of them that their grandfather built my house.
I immediately invited them in, looking forward to some stories about this adorable little bungalow.
They told me tales of Mr. Fetter, a railroad engineer that built this little house along a dirt road on the outskirts of town. He lived in the house nearly all his life with his wife. The grandchildren told me stories of rollerskating on the wooden front porch, counting cars that passed to pass the time. They told me of a house full of love and their wonderful grandparents. Mr. Fetter built this house just before the depression and then proceeded to build the two houses next door (but they always lived in the little house). In the kitchen, his grandaughter was brought to tears as she traced the metal edge of the built-in bookcase..."I used to hang on this when I was a kid...my feet didn't touch the ground." She smiled.
They were able to explain a few oddities, like an odd hole where a giant oak once stood (I was afraid it was something really crazy...like a sink hole or missing/colapsed septic tank...thank goodness it wasn't!), a huge ball of concrete next to the driveway that impeaded my ability to build a gate (Mr. Fetter talked the city workers into paving the driveway while they were paving the street in 1940 and immediately afterwards remembered a can of money he had burried underneath it. He back-filled the hole with concrete.)
It was a great visit and they were not only surprised that it was still there, but that it looked so beautiful and was still being loved and cared for.
As I took photos of the house after getting it ready for sale, I'm sending a cd of photos to the Fetter family, so they'll always be able to visit this happy little home.
I immediately invited them in, looking forward to some stories about this adorable little bungalow.
They told me tales of Mr. Fetter, a railroad engineer that built this little house along a dirt road on the outskirts of town. He lived in the house nearly all his life with his wife. The grandchildren told me stories of rollerskating on the wooden front porch, counting cars that passed to pass the time. They told me of a house full of love and their wonderful grandparents. Mr. Fetter built this house just before the depression and then proceeded to build the two houses next door (but they always lived in the little house). In the kitchen, his grandaughter was brought to tears as she traced the metal edge of the built-in bookcase..."I used to hang on this when I was a kid...my feet didn't touch the ground." She smiled.
They were able to explain a few oddities, like an odd hole where a giant oak once stood (I was afraid it was something really crazy...like a sink hole or missing/colapsed septic tank...thank goodness it wasn't!), a huge ball of concrete next to the driveway that impeaded my ability to build a gate (Mr. Fetter talked the city workers into paving the driveway while they were paving the street in 1940 and immediately afterwards remembered a can of money he had burried underneath it. He back-filled the hole with concrete.)
It was a great visit and they were not only surprised that it was still there, but that it looked so beautiful and was still being loved and cared for.
As I took photos of the house after getting it ready for sale, I'm sending a cd of photos to the Fetter family, so they'll always be able to visit this happy little home.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)