About a year ago my now fiancé and I moved back to Arkansas. Some dear friends of ours were also contemplating their move and Jackson walked us through a house his dad owns, a house gutted at the time, in case they were interested in buying it post-restoration. As we walked I fell in love.
I have never felt about a house the way I felt about this house and I had seen some pretty amazing work from Jeb, Jackson’s dad, who has been restoring old homes for years.
But this house wasn’t restored, it was a clean slate and I was in love with both its bones and the idea of what it COULD be. Our friends weren’t looking too seriously, and I finally had the nerve to tell Jackson, “I want that house.”
I imagined it being awhile before we owned a home. How long I have no idea, but if we were going to purchase I wanted it to be a dream house and so I believed owning our own home was still in the semi-distant future.
But this house. This house, Jackson’s dad already owned and coincidentally after a few years it was up next on his project docket. This house, Jeb had had trouble making decisions on because there were so many options for how the layout would go and it really depends on who would live there and how they wanted to utilize the space. This house, I believe, was waiting for us.
Back in November I shared pictures of this Brick House on social media, both my personal and the blogs, and explained that though this house had a long way to go before it’d be “finished” (Jackson tells me these things are never truly finished, like us it was “in-between”. Actually it’s still in-between, ever a work in progress as we get settled in on the inside and continue work on the outside. Every single time I’d share pictures of the house I’d get questions and comments about the progress because, quite simply, it stands out.
I’d like to clarify that Jackson, his dad, and one other contractor are the genius behind this beautiful home. I documented, and sometimes gawked while they worked, but didn’t do much of anything until it was time to clean up and move in. Still, I feel like I can shed some light on this project for others who dream of owning a beautiful old home.
The main thing I’ll stress here is something I didn’t know anything about until I watched this home come together: architectural details matter.
Many people won’t know WHY truly stunning work stands out. I used to be one of those people. What makes a truly beautiful structure is the time and attention to detail that MOST developers, builders and contractors do not pay today.
Jackson took weeks to paint this house. The trim, the detail around the windows and the door frames and the base board are what make it a work of art and not just a building. And much of the material used (the doors, the brick and wood for our fireplace, the bath tub, and our bar and shelving in the kitchen) was either old or repurposed altogether.
I also want to point out that this house was chock full of old carpet, ruined hardwood floor and junk before Jeb gutted it. Many people would have taken a look inside and say the house was a lost cause. But Jeb saw a beautiful structure that deserved to be saved.
I get a kick (well it’s actually disturbing) out of a comment Jeb passed along, of someone who wants to sell a few old houses they own, “People just love living around these older houses in the downtown area. We need to tear these down and build something so they can live down here.”
I mean, WHAT? So that people can live around beautiful architecture, someone wants to tear down the beautiful architecture?? What this guy has in mind is tearing down something he thinks can’t be saved to squeeze in something new. Whoever does this can make more money by building apartments or duplexes because more people will fit onto the property. I have lived in several apartments and understand they are necessary, but it is a fact that people take better care of property they own rather than rent.
I want to explain to this guy, or anyone who thinks it’s better to tear down old and throw together something new, these beautiful homes can be saved. They are not done hosting stories. They are simply in-between what they once were and what they can one day be. We must treasure these beautiful homes. They hold the history of our neighborhoods and are perfectly capable of being the setting of our future.
For us, the timing of moving into this house is/was perfect. At the time, the stars seemed to align: we were engaged and would be able to move in just before the wedding. Talk about riding a high as many things seemed to line up personally and professionally for us both. But COVID-19 forced us to postpone – unless we were willing to sacrifice getting to hold all our loved ones close on this special day). Still, in a sad time, I am reminded to be grateful.
On the night of our should-be wedding we scraped old paint from the outside of our new home. We hung a porch swing. And we gathered outside with good friends to talk and laugh and listen to our wedding playlist. I looked around that evening and thought: you know this may not be as special as our wedding night will be, but how special it is to know we have many more evenings like this ahead of us.
It would have been a beautiful day for a wedding. But in this home surrounded by people we love, every day is beautiful. Today, the day we finally say I do, the day we “finish” the house, and every day in-between.
