A work still in progress, this two-room house wasn’t much to look at a year and a half ago.
The simple frame structure, built in the 1920’s, originally served to house seasonal workers on a farm where it was referred to as the “bunkhouse”. It had suffered from decades of neglect. Water came into the interior with every rain and plaster was beginning to fall from the ceilings and walls. Mice and birds had taken up residence in the spaces not filled with unwanted items and debris. It was overgrown and the environs littered with beer cans. A former owner had been advised that it was a “tear-down” by a friend in the construction business and that it was too far gone to save. Fortunately, nothing was done. I know that most old buildings, no matter how dilapidated, are able to be retained. It simply takes time, effort, knowledge and the desire to make it happen. It doesn’t have to cost a lot… that’s where the salvaged materials come in handy!
Interestingly, the house was built from the start with a mix of new and salvaged materials. The door between the rooms was clearly 19th century and door and window casings were not consistent in width. Wall sheathing showed evidence of having been salvaged from another building.
It was determined from the start that a true restoration was not the goal; a Victorian-period remodeling was. The house would be backdated and upgraded in the process. The current owner had been saving salvaged materials from demolished houses for decades and wanted to use some of that material here. Although the house was about to get “Victorianized”, the owner wanted to make sure that the end result did not feel contrived. Only antique salvaged materials would be used, and all were from roughly 1875 to 1895.
The following photographs depict the bunkhouse in the “Before” stages of its on-going transformation. Occasional follow-up posts will document the progress.
An old truck tarp protects the roof and interior from further damage; it was the first item on the priority list. Though overgrown and ignored, the bunkhouse is about to get some serious love.
Half-way through patching the roof. A broken window is boarded over to keep the critters and elements out.
Believe it or not, the interior has already been substantially cleaned out. It was much worse previously… this is just the dregs.
Another wall in the same room. The color scheme appears to date to the 50’s or 60’s.
The front door is at left. Note the difference in header sizes over the doors.
It doesn’t take long for water to damage a house. Now that the roof is patched, the place can dry out.
The dirty linoleum floor was protecting a wood floor beneath!
Water had destroyed the sill of this broken window. The opening has since been replaced with a door.
An elderly roller shade clings to the window casing.
Birds had taken a shine to the old four-panel door.
This is a teaser for Part 2. Here you can see the fir flooring which was found beneath the linoleum in the process of being sanded (with a 1940’s floor sander!). A salvaged door replaces the former broken window. The walls have been insulated, wired, repaired and painted!
That floor is lovely. Wish I had it in my kitchen.
Though the yellow room looks like a kitchen, it was actually a bedroom and will remain one. The pink room was a kitchen and living room and has a concrete floor. Wait until you see the wood floor varnished… glad you like it!
It is nice to get a good news story! Thanks!
It’s not all doom and gloom out there (though it sure does seem like it at times!). I’m glad that you consider this a “good news” story. Technically, I’ll be morally obligated to post this in the “Drag Queen Architecture” category when it is further along because it is transforming from Nondescript Vernacular to an Italianate transitional to Queen Anne!
Hmm, I see your point – I still classify as good news though. It does get tricky using salvaged materials, or at least I find it tricky. I get a little uncomfortable when the building’s original narrative gets changed. At the same time, I am really grateful that someone is fixing the place up, and it will get some additional years of use and life. And, I love that old materials are getting recycled and not dumped in a landfill. I get the purist point of view that you shouldn’t put non-original stuff in an old building, and I respect that. However, I am about to put an 1890’s Chicago town-home staircase into a house in the country that had its’ original staircase ripped out. I am justifying it (yup, feel like I have to justify it to myself) as a period appropriate staircase that could have been purchased out of the same 1890’s stair parts catalog. And, it beats the alternative of having no front stair. Slippery slope though.
You don’t have to justify yourself! I’m not a total purist. As long as people are upfront about what they are doing (and the work is not hideous) I’m OK with that. What I strenuously object to is when people alter a place and then claim to have restored it to its original condition. I really, really, hate that. I approve of your use of a salvaged staircase to replace one of similar vintage which was missing. Good for the homeless stairs and good for the stairless house! Win-win!
Yes, I guess I am sort of thinking of the Cracker-Barrel Victoriana, or renovations done on historic houses 40 years ago. I think these were well intentioned, but with the benefit of 23-30-40 years of hindsight, starts to look a little silly. You can almost always pick out the 1970’s renovation work for instance. I try and think of what the next guy (hopefully well intentioned as well!) will think of what I have done 30 or 40 years earlier. For instance, I saved a bath in a 2-unit by inserting a different colored, hopefully non-intrusive tile to fill a 2-3 inch gap caused by building settling between the wall and the tub. The tub had dropped quite a bit, and the walls had stayed where they were. (I work in Woodlawn and South Shore in Chicago – all areas that are mostly sand and fill material from the great Chicago fire, so everything settles in interesting ways). I had to do this to save the vintage bath (wonderful pink and green Crane’s type bath that was mortar set) and make it useable for tenants. It was the best solution I could come up with – the bathroom still reads mostly 1920’s, but has been fixed. Still, what will the guy down the road think?
The guy down the road will be glad that you didn’t gut the bathroom and replace everything with stuff made in 2018!