15 Old House Features that we were wrong to abandon...

[tonyb]

You've touched on something deserving of its own thread (and a book or three as well, come to think of it).

What little I've seen of those Sears-Roebuck houses (Richard Nixon's first home and place of birth, for instance) impressed me as being typical structures of their time. But your post has me wondering if they were not quite up to snuff. Was it the materials? Or the sometimes-shoddy workmanship? (They were hammered together on site, often by their owners.)

They were kits, right? Pre-cut lumber shipped out on the railroad and assembled on site?

http://www.presidentsusa.net/nixonbirthplace.html

EDIT: Further reading suggests that the Nixon birthplace house is very likely a house built from a kit. But that it is a Sears-Roebuck kit is one of those things everybody knows that just ain't so. It seems likely that it was supplied by a long-defunct Los Angeles area maker of house kits. And it appears that there were several other house kit suppliers early in the last century, including Monkey Wards.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Correct, the Sears houses were what we'd call "prefabricated" today -- components such as trusses were pre-assembled from timber and shipped in crates to the building site. They came in several "grades," from basic to fancy, based on the quality of the lumber and the amount of detail in the trim and woodwork, and there were several basic floor plans available.

The Sears houses that I've seen in person were the "basic" grade. As I say, they've been customized and in some cases expanded over the years, but the basic buildings are all still there under whatever's been added. They all look sturdy and serviceable, but the basic designs are quite plain -- there weren't a lot of original windows, the woodwork was simple, and so forth.

As far as the quality of the materials, while I've never examined the innards of a Sears house up close, my own house was built of a similar grade of "run of the mill" materials at the same time the Sears houses were becoming popular. The timber used in its construction is solid, but not "selected" --- the wood is roughly cut and has knots. The original roofing boards are still in place, and examining them from inside the attic shows that they're rather crudely finished, and over the years have developed various splits along the grain and around the knots. The chimney was not the work of a master mason -- it's serviceable, but not finely finished, as were the original bricks in the cellar which were stuccoed over with some kind of cement facing somewhere along the line.

My house has never been "renovated," other than the addition of a small downstairs room off the kitchen in what was once the "shed." The original woodwork is all still in place, and is of very simple inexpensive design. The fanciest thing in the house is the bannister, which has nicely turned posts, but is very narrow and inexpensively fit together. Most of the original doorknobs remain, and were brown porcelain.

The walls are horsehair plaster, rather indifferently applied, and had several layers of wallpaper. The baseboards are very plain, and the moldings are the sort of simple stick stock you can still buy off the shelf at any lumberyard. The original doors are four-panel cross pattern, of simple painted pine.

No hard or fancy wood was used in any of the floors -- it's simple pine boards all around, and the kitchen was originally linoleum.

The kitchen has a small pantry which originally could be closed off behind a folding double door. and a large closet originally used as a larder. The original stoves, one in the kitchen, one in the living room, and one in the main bedroom, burned coal. There was no dining room.

There was no bathroom when the house was built. One was added in the late forties, replacing what was a large bedroom closet.

That gives you an idea of what the construction quality of an oridinary working-class house built in the 1910s in New England would have been like. I can't imagine the Sears basic model was much different -- they certainly appear no different from the cursory examination I've been able to give them.

 

[tonyb]

I suspect that a hundred years and more ago, when there were something fewer than a third as many people residing in this country as there are now, a house was looked upon less as an "investment" to be monetized at some point down the road as, well, a home -- a nest, a place to raise a brood. A person wouldn't sit back and watch the youngsters deliberately put dings in the moldings, but he also wouldn't lose sight of why the moldings were there in the first place. There's a reason it's called a "chair rail," for instance. (Yes, moldings are trim, covers for the irregularities and less-pretty stuff where floors meet walls, where walls meet doors and windows, etc. But they're functional as well.)

What portion of 30-year home mortgages written over the past, say, four decades, were actually paid off or are still being paid off by the people currently residing in those homes? In other words, how many modern people stay in a home for a lifetime, or at least a goodly share of a lifetime?

These patterns are reflected in our collective attitudes toward the structures themselves. People may have their money invested in a particular community, but not so much of themselves as they did in generations past. So a person learns to ignore that T1-11 siding if he knows he won't be living with it for the remainder of his life.

 

[LizzieMaine]

I know that the concept of a "starter house" was utterly alien to my family. My great-grandfather built the house he died in, my grandparents bought their only house in 1945 and my grandfather died in it, and my mother bought the only house she'd ever own in 1967 and swears that she will die in it. And God willing, I'll die in this house, the only house I ever expect to own.

I think another point to keep in mind is that while most of the single family housing stock built prior to 1940 was "cheap and fast" by the standards of the time, the standard for the postwar era was "Cheaper and Faster." My house may be a dump compared to the big Victorian up on the hill, but it contains no drywall, no flakeboard, no waferboard, no beaverboard, no Masonite, and no plywood. As far as I've been able to tell from poking and prodding at it, it's solid timber all the way thru, and while it wasn't built to be pretty, it was very much built to be *sturdy.*

One couple lived here from the twenties to the eighties, a lobsterman and his wife. By my research in the city records, I'm the fifth owner in a hundred and four years. I don't expect to live here -- or anywhere, for that matter -- for sixty years, but I've already been here for sixteen, and don't plan to go anywhere anytime soon.

 

[Hemingway Jones]

Definitely not any kind of a new phenomenon around here. My neighborhood is made up of entire blocks of 5,000 square foot lots with some houses built so close together that one person could reach out the kitchen window and shake hands with her neighbor. The oldest house on my street was built in 1844, and the most recent -- my house -- was built in 1911. The few lots that are bigger than a quarter-acre or so are the result of fires where a neighbor bought out the burned-out property.

There were no zoning laws here when these neighborhoods were built, but there were a lot of working-class people who required housing within easy walking distance of their jobs. They were packed closely into these narrow little streets, and the layout of the neighborhoods haven't changed in the last hundred years. Even though the factories, canneries, and shipyards are mostly gone, we still appreciate being able to walk to work, and since small, old houses on small lots don't particularly appeal to gentrifiers, we're still able to afford them.

All good points and absolutely true. Thinking of this thread, I drove through Cambridge today and saw a home on maybe a 2,500 sq ft lot and with a tiny little house; no garage, no yard; just a fenced-in little house; probably built circa 1910 (guess). I will say this though, not at all cookie-cutter. The homes next to it were each a bit different.

 

[Haversack]

Here in San Francisco the standard lot size is 25' x 100' with zero setback. Hence most houses appear to be row houses, (but actually are not). There is considerable variation however. Bernal Heights was built up 1906-1940 with houses for workers to buy. In order to be more affordable, the lots are only 23' wide and the streets are narrow. Out in the Sunset during the 20s and 30s, one developer/builder used 27' wide lots to create a slightly higher quality house. The traditionally wealthier neighborhoods, (Pacific Heights, Sea Cliff, Forest HIll, etc.) do have distinct separate houses. There are also some surviving Victorian houses with their original yard, iron fencing, and out-buildings scattered around the City as well. (There are a couple on the east side of Potrero Hill that overlook the old Pacific Ironworks shipyard. Managers' houses probably.)

 

[Haversack]

Sears and Aladdin were the two big names in pre-1940 catalog house kits. (Aladdin stayed in business into the 1980s). Sears sold their line under the name Honor-Bilt and Aladdin called theirs "Built in a Day" and "Reddi-cut" In general, the materials supplied by these two companies were of better than average quality. Aladdin had 'knot-free guaranty' for its flooring, siding, and finish lumber. A fair amount of customization was also allowed for in regards to finish, add-ons, and built-ins and to account for differences in regional building requirements and building sites. Dover Publications has a reprint of the 1917 Aladdin catalog.

 

[tonyb]

How far removed are you from a major population center, Ms. Maine?

As to the "starter house" thing ...

That annoys me, too. It's as if people are somehow supposed to aspire to grander things. I recall a real estate agent referring to our little house in Seattle (which is currently rented out to the sort of people I truly don't deserve, they're so darned good) as a starter house. Kinda rubbed me the wrong way, although, as I recall, I didn't let it show, leastwise not too obviously. Of course, she needs people to be buying and selling houses. It's her stock in trade. People always aspiring to grander things is good for business.

 

[LizzieMaine]

We *are* the major population center for our county, at just under just under 8000 people. Closest "big city" is Portland, which is an hour and a half away, and the closest major metrop is Boston, which is a four hour drive. Our population has fallen by 20 percent since 1960, a consequence of the collapse of industry here in the 70s and 80s. You can't make a year round living kissing the well-upholstered backsides of tourists, and a lot of people with deep roots here finally gave up and left.

I reject the whole idea of consumerism, and always have. I think a society built on aspirational acquisition is doomed to eventually collapse under the weight of its own unfulfilled ambition. I just don't understand the mindset of the people who seem to be bred to that way of life -- what's the point of always running after a carrot on the end of a pole, knowing the carrot's always going to be moving and always going to be just out of reach. Sure, you might catch a nibble off the end of it once in a while, but you're never going to latch onto the whole thing.

The only thing that bugs me more than the "starter house" concept is the "starter wife" concept. It doesn't surprise me when one leads eventually to the other.

 

[LizzieMaine]

Sears and Aladdin were the two big names in pre-1940 catalog house kits. (Aladdin stayed in business into the 1980s). Sears sold their line under the name Honor-Bilt and Aladdin called theirs "Built in a Day" and "Reddi-cut" In general, the materials supplied by these two companies were of better than average quality. Aladdin had 'knot-free guaranty' for its flooring, siding, and finish lumber. A fair amount of customization was also allowed for in regards to finish, add-ons, and built-ins and to account for differences in regional building requirements and building sites. Dover Publications has a reprint of the 1917 Aladdin catalog.

Was that the same Aladdin company known for kerosene mantle lamps and dinner pails?

 

[Haversack]

The catalog houses were by the Aladdin Company of Bay City, Mich. (Previously the North American Construction Company), W. J. Sovereign - President. O.E. Sovereign - Gen.Mgr. Cable Address "Aladdin," Western Union Code. Founded in 1906.

Aladdin Industries, (previously the Mantle Lamp Company of America), was headquartered in Chicago, Illinois and founded in 1908. It now is headquartered in Tennessee.

 

[tonyb]

I'm wondering if the coming flood of under-financed retirees might spur population growth in locales such as yours, Elizabeth. An elderly pair living on a combined $2300 a month in Social Security benefits (to pull a number out of thin air) might find alluring a charming old off-the-beaten-path town where living quarters might be had for a whole lot less than in-city digs.

Am I assuming too much about the cost of living up your way?

 

[LizzieMaine]

Well, that's exactly what's happening here -- seniors from Connecticut, New Jersey, and New York, mostly, are moving up here To Be Close To The Sea, and that's slowly but surely pricing the locals out of their own homes. The transplants demand more services, which cost more money, which drives up the property taxes, to the point where people like me get pushed out of our own towns. I'm holding on because I'm mean and stubborn and can live very cheap, but I've seen a lot of people I've known for years have to pull up stakes and go. Hence my distaste for gentrification.

As for current cost of living, I live in a five-room house, 953 square feet, with a 5200 square foot lot. I pay about $2300 a year in taxes on it. My mortgage payment -- and thank FDR and the FHA, or I'd be living in a box -- is currently $763 a month. That's peanuts if you're from Brooklyn, but when you live in an area where the median income is less than $40,000, it's not as cheap as it looks. Especially when you consider you're going to be paying serious coin to heat it for eight months out of the year, no matter what fuel you burn. I burn fuel oil and spend about $1500 a year for heat. A big old Victorian house can easily cost you twice that.

The job picture here is rotten, and has been ever since everything collapsed in the late '70s -- if you move here, you'd better have made your money someplace else. All the good union jobs that used to be common in the factories and on the docks are long gone, and most of what's left is retail and the "hospitality" industry. Most people I know have to work at least two jobs -- I work three -- just to make ends meet, and that includes people all the way up the college-degree ladder. You're about as likely to have your groceries rung up by an M. A. or a PhD around here as you are a G.E.D, and you can't swing a wet mop without hitting somebody pinning up cards on a wall advertising their services as a "consultant."

The really cheap properties around here are not on the coast. Go ten miles inland and you can get a lot of land for little money, but these retirees don't want that. If they can't smell the stink of putrefying seaweed out the front door, it isn't Maaaaaaaaaaaine. Most of the displaced locals have retreated into these little inland towns, where they have to drive twenty or thirty miles a day each way to get to their jobs, so big chunks of their paychecks get blown out the tailpipe. One of my theatre staff has spent pretty much every spare cent she has keeping her fifteen-year-old car running, just so she can drive to work to earn the money to keep her car running. Carrot on the end of the pole.

I did a lot of walking around town today looking for a friend's cat -- we found her, safe and sound -- and this adventure took me into some of the roughest neighborhoods around here. Houses listing at broad angles, broken chimneys, porches rotting off, windows boarded up -- but people still living in them, and not half a mile from our swanky tourist-oriented Main Street where you buy your fill of Wyeth prints at $250 a throw. I don't know what it costs to live in a house like that, but I do know that you can't rent a house in this town -- any house -- for less than $800 a month. A "nice house" as a rental will take you close to a grand a month, and you still might have to worry about drug dealers sleeping in your car.

 

[tonyb]

Urban gentrification isn't all bad for people who expect to sell their property in the gentrified district. Indeed, they'll likely walk away with a big chunk. But for those who wish to stay? Nope. You just might get priced out.

What makes me wanna scream are the recent arrivals who "treasure the diversity" of the district they are making all the less "diverse" by their very presence there. Such a lack of self-awareness just about takes my breath away.

As to small town gentrification ...

Me, I could live without the charming old Main Street where boutiques and galleries and fancy restaurants occupy spaces where hardware stores and taverns and greasy spoons used to be. There's money to be made there only because there's money being spent there. If I can't be on the left side of that equation, I just can't afford to spend much time in such a place.

 

[AtomicEraTom]

I'm surprised that the costs are so high, there. I have a 1200 square foot house, not sure of the lot size, but it's small. My taxes are about 1500 a year. The mortgage payment, it's a USDA loan, is a hair over 500 a month, with everything escrowed. Heat costs are high here, too, though, and you're heating 3/4 of the year.

As for current cost of living, I live in a five-room house, 953 square feet, with a 5200 square foot lot. I pay about $2300 a year in taxes on it. My mortgage payment -- and thank FDR and the FHA, or I'd be living in a box -- is currently $763 a month. That's peanuts if you're from Brooklyn, but when you live in an area where the median income is less than $40,000, it's not as cheap as it looks. Especially when you consider you're going to be paying serious coin to heat it for eight months out of the year, no matter what fuel you burn. I burn fuel oil and spend about $1500 a year for heat. A big old Victorian house can easily cost you twice that.

The whole small lot thing here is driving me nuts. Being a tractor/car collector, I could REALLY use some more room. Also growing up on a farm, really has me feeling fenced in.

It's really a interesting discussion, and I'm not sure which one of the methods of planning and zoning I prefer. My previous home in CT was in a town with 2 acre minimum lot sizes, so everyone owned large pieces of land, but didn't have much daily contact with neighbors. The average lots were closer to 3 to 4 acres. In PA, we have dense development, I live on a third of an acre, but the town has preserved many large tracts of open land. We also interact multiple times a day with the neighbors, much greater sense of community. I can see the advantages to each.

 

[Big Man]

I thought I was paying a lot in property tax, but you folks make me feel much better. My old house is a shade over 2,000 sq feet and sits on 5 acres. My tax is just a hair under $400 a year.

 

[Fading Fast]

All that the guy from NYC can do in the property tax conversation is :Cry:

 

[LizzieMaine]

Urban gentrification isn't all bad for people who expect to sell their property in the gentrified district. Indeed, they'll likely walk away with a big chunk. But for those who wish to stay? Nope. You just might get priced out.

What makes me wanna scream are the recent arrivals who "treasure the diversity" of the district they are making all the less "diverse" by their very presence there. Such a lack of self-awareness just about takes my breath away.

As to small town gentrification ...

Me, I could live without the charming old Main Street where boutiques and galleries and fancy restaurants occupy spaces where hardware stores and taverns and greasy spoons used to be. There's money to be made there only because there's money being spent there. If I can't be on the left side of that equation, I just can't afford to spend much time in such a place.

The biggest problem is that you end up with a Main Street that's entirely ersatz, a theme-park rendition of what "Main Street" ought to be. Around here every other storefront is an art gallery, much of the town is dominated by the art museum, and there's a *second* art museum now under construction. If the storefront isn't an art gallery, it's either a bar or a "high end" restaurant. There's still one old-line greasy spoon left, which I patronize regularly, but other than that, we -- the theatre -- and an insurance agency are the only downtown businesses left that pre-date the art-tourism boom. I didn't have to move away from the town, the town moved away from me.

I've got nothing against art, but it's quite another matter to be force-fed the ART ART ART ART seal-bark until you can't stand it any more. And I do get awfully tired of kowtowing to cone-eating sixtyish heavy-set white women with identical menopausal-helmet haircuts, LL Bean cardigans, Coach bags, and faux-distressed boat shoes. But grinning and shuffling for the tourist dollar is all that's left for us here. I'm determined to stick it out and stay if only to spite them all.

 

[Nobert]

Exactly why I left Portland, then Maine altogether. I used to look for work for months on end with barely a nibble, here, I got a job and a callback for another job in less than two weeks.

 

[Fading Fast]

I've moved intra- and inter-state for work several times in the last three decades. I wanted to stay in a certain field and had no choice as companies closed down / went bankrupt / were taken over / real-estate prices forced them out or regulation changed the economics and structure of the industry.

Unfortunately, the world of, at least some of, our parents - one job, one company, one home, one town -is much, much harder to do today. My Dad was born and died in the same hospital and never lived more than 3-ish miles from it and lived in four places (the first house was lost in the depression, a tenement until he got married, a 900 square foot home at the start of his marriage and a 1400 square foot home after the second kid that he lived in until he passed away).

As to gentrification and what it does to main streets - I hate it (even in NYC we get gentrification of neighborhoods within the city and I've seem so many great local / small business close up for another Gap / Starbucks / Walgreens it drives me crazy). And while I know zoning can help, the thing is, how can it be stopped if one of these stores is willing to pay dramatically more rent?

Most of the older small business that are left are family owned and (and this is the key, at least in NYC) they own the building where their business is (I patronize many and this is always the case). In fact, and some of the owners understand this and some don't - they could sell their building or rent it to a Starbucks, etc., and do better financially than running their business, but they run it in part for love and in part because (for some) it's all they can imagine doing.