Ruined structures have long been a favorite subject for artists because of their frequent poignant beauty. While the term “ruin” typically conjures up images of ancient stone structures crumbling in lush landscapes beneath invasive trees and vines, a similar – but more desolate – beauty can be found in much more recent ruins: abandoned farm houses and their outbuildings. These places still quietly recall rural life as it was more than a century ago. Their simple and often strictly utilitarian construction stands in stark contrast to the more refined buildings built at the same time in more populated places. The lack of sophistication in the following farm house is typical of the kind of construction that was once quite prevalent throughout the High Plains region.
Likely built between 1890 and 1905, the house was abandoned by the mid-twentieth century – possibly as early as the “Dirty Thirties”. It is noteworthy that the house had never been wired for electricity. It is evident that it began as two rooms but was later expanded by two one-room additions. Each of those has now collapsed, leaving the original core revealed once more. I was given permission from the land owner to visit the site.
Let’s take a look – but watch out for snakes!
The house is just a speck on the vast plain. An old car frame – placed upright – and a dead tree guard the approach to the house.
An early addition to the front has collapsed.
Remains of a brick chimney are strewn amidst the lumber.
The presence of an overhanging eave tells us that the portion which remains is the original house. Note the the rafters are run horizontally and that the roof sheathing runs vertically. This design has probably helped the house shed water and promote its longevity. The casing around the door, typical of the 1910’s, is more refined than the trim in the original house (which appears to date to around 1900).
The interior casing of the same doorway. Note that the bottom has been spliced, suggesting that the carpenter made an error with the baseboard; another doorway in the room has similar casings notched to receive the baseboard.
At right, the baseboard is let into the door casings. The remains of a four-panel door still hang from the jamb. At left, the doorway to the bedroom has a header which is much narrower than the side casings (which do not have baseboards let into them).
The pine flooring has been face-nailed.
A butt-jointed baseboard corner is finished with a short section of vertical quarter round.
Remains of the presumed front door retain a cast iron steeple hinge.
This small shelf was an original feature – built into the wall prior to plastering. Originally it overlapped the window casing but was cut back at some time, possibly so as not to interfere with a curtain. The shelf once continued through the wall to create a similar shelf in the bedroom. They may have been intended to hold oil lamps.
The bedroom.
This is what is left of the once-continuous shelf; it appears to have been sawn off. A hole in the plaster reveals a piece of painted wood – a good clue that salvaged materials were used in the construction of the house. Note that the single layer of plaster has never been painted.
The bedroom may be modest, but the view from the window is breathtaking.
Construction of the roof may be seen more clearly through the bedroom ceiling.
The woodwork and ceiling were painted blue. Here, through a trap door to the attic, a central chimney is visible. It appears to be supported by the wall below it.
This is the flue to that chimney as seen from the main room.
Doorway from the main room to a former lean-to kitchen.
The lean-to is in an advanced stage of collapse.
The kitchen stove and some window sash rest on what is left of the floor.
The kitchen addition as it appears from outside.
What are likely the original shingles still cling to the roof. The clapboards are similarly weathered.
Granduer and simplicity.
Detail of weathered siding.
This concludes our tour; does anyone want to see the remains of the bermed concrete barn and other curiosities?
Thanks, While I am far removed from abandoned rural buildings, I can certainly appreciate the efforts it took to construct them and admire the fortitude it must have taken to undertake such a life. The view from that bedroom was indeed breathtaking.
I am frequently impressed by the evidence of hardships endured by those that forge ahead – regardless of what part of the globe. Apparently, in this case, the hardships outweighed the benefits as the place has been abandoned far longer than it was occupied.
Yes, show the bermed barn and other curiosities, please!
Glad you like this! I’ll do a follow-up post soon…
so, when do you start rehabbing this one? given all your current projects, I think this might be spreading yourself too thin. stick to those other hopeless houses you already have and apply your ceativity (and hopefully some taste and style to them).
LOL!!! I know I’m already spread too thin… this place will just have to continue its slow decline without me. I have to admit, however, that while exploring the house I was already thinking about how to insert an innocuous kitchen into the space…
I love seeing ruins like this…well, not that I love seeing them in this condition but imagining who lived there and documenting it before it’s lost forever.
I’d like to do a short video once in a while about these kinds of places. They really do need to be documented – I live in an area which has yet to recognize and embrace its history in a tangible way; efforts at documentation typically take place in towns and cities which are more populous (more $ funding). Thanks for caring!
many many of these small Midwestern farms were gobbled up by agribusiness in the post WWII new pesticide Era and they had no use or interest in the buildings and so the ones they didn’t bulldoze were left to “demolition by neglect ” as this one appears to be. although. the time frame seems odd on this one. most of the agricultural movement to this part of the country was long over aND farms like this were being abandoned in favor of the cities.
I think we need more information.
This place was probably a cattle farm; not a conventional crop-based operation. The terrain and climate here were better-suited to grazing (and still are, but there are better irrigation options now). I’m sure there was a small vegetable garden here at one time, and maybe more, but this was essentially cattle country. During the dust bowl years, drought would have left little grass for cattle to graze upon and made it harder for any potential crops to grow. The fact that the house was never wired for electricity tells us that it was abandoned early on… probably during the depression. It could be that the place was acquired by a neighboring farmer who didn’t need an extra house.
If I understand correctly, the chimney was done that way because bricks were so expensive that it wasn’t even carried down to the ground. Makes me wonder, though, why not just continue that metal pipe up through the roof and forego bricks altogether?
That is my understanding as well; many chimneys were abbreviated in this way to not only save the cost of bricks, but to save the amount of labor and mortar required to build a full-height chimney. I can only assume (a dangerous thing to do sometimes) that the builder did not forego the bricks because they were needed to insulate the wood structure from the heat conducted through the flue. There are other options today to insulate a metal flue without using bricks, but those options were not available around 1900.
Very interesting! That is beautiful country.
Most people would have looked at this ruin and not given it a second glance. They have seen nothing but a ruin.
You though looked at it and found fascinating clues as to What Was.
I particularly enjoyed the built-in shelf possibly for an oil lamp. And in that instant, the ruin, in my mind, became a home again. I could see the family living in the structure a century ago, with the oil lamp flickering, as dinner cooked, and the family chatted about the day and the chores which would need to be done the next day.
Thanks for the time-travel.
You’re more than welcome! I like to time-travel, too. The past may not actually have been better than the present, but I’d be willing to take that risk and go back. However, I’d probably pick a time other than the Dirty Thirties. We’ll go back in time again – sometime in the future!