Roofing Interlude: The Zimmerman House

We were so close to finishing the roof, we could taste it. Just 2 more swaths of roofing felt and the accompanying shingles and we'd be done. Not even a days' work. And...we got called out of town rather suddenly. 

While we were gone though, we got to see an impressive brick ranch house - the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed Zimmerman House in Manchester, New Hampshire. If this had been the little brick ranch next to our house, you can bet we wouldn't be turning it into a garage! The Zimmerman House is a Usonian house and is similar to the Prairie Style that he is known for, but smaller and (supposedly) built for the common man, though the price tag would have been rather steep for most when this was built in the 1950s.

I loved the Garden Room where there were troughs to grow plants just inside and just outside the windows to make it feel like you're outside even when you're inside. 

Because the house was built into the land, you could reach the roof in the back. The roofing was supposed to be cedar shakes, but the city wouldn't allow that so it is clay tile instead. And, yes, in true Frank Lloyd Wright fashion, it did leak.

A fun interlude - now back to making sure the garage roof doesn't leak!

Forces of Nature

We were very fortunate last week.  We live in Virginia, but weren't effected by either the earthquake or the hurricane.  We felt a little shaking, we had a little breeze, but nary a drop of rain.  Many owners of historic houses in Virginia were not so lucky with reports of collapsed chimneys and facades, cracks in brick and stone, uprooted historic trees, long power outages.  Things could certainly have been worse, but they are certainly not easy for those who received damage and must now make the tough decisions about repairing, demolishing, and rebuilding.  Preservation Virginia, the Virginia Department of Historic Resources, and the National Trust for Historic Preservation can all help historic property owners in Virginia with resources to make those tough decisions.  An article in the Alexandria Times talks about the importance of earthquake or hurricane bolts in the historic brick buildings of Alexandria in keeping damage to a minimum and mentions Virginia's last major earthquake which was centered in our county.

Our thoughts also go out to those New England and New York where flooding from Irene has caused unfathomable damage to historic buildings and structures.  It's just heartbreaking to see covered bridges washed into swollen rivers and water flowing through buildings.  I grew up in a New Hampshire town with a covered bridge connecting it to the next town.  Fortunately, the water levels weren't so high there as to put the bridge in danger, but I can certainly empathize with the pain people are feeling for lost bridges.

In our current economic situation, it's hard to believe that any of the bridges will be rebuilt, at least not as iconic covered bridges.  I don't think that it is nostalgia that necessarily drives our emotions when we lose historic bridges and buildings.  The loss of a sense of character is powerful.  The covered bridges and quintessential New England villages draw people because they are different.  They have a very strong sense of place.  You can tell one bridge or one town from another.  You know you are somewhere special the minute you enter town.  Much of our construction today evokes "Anywhere, USA".  From bridge to buildings, you can't tell where you are.  You could be in Connecticut or you could be in Texas, the styles of newer structures and chains tend to be similar.  We're losing our regional architecture and, with it, our sense of place.  That's why it is so painful to see catastrophic damage to the historic structures that define the uniqueness of our communities.  That's why we should make an effort to repair or reconstruct rather than demolish and replace.

 

They Do Steeples Better Than Us

We just returned from a trip to New England where, yes, they do steeples better than in the South.  The steeples up there are tall and slim, reaching for the heavens and anchoring the towns where they sit.  Here, more often than not, the steeples are short, squat, and questionable as to whether the building might be better off without the appendage at all.  Don't believe me?  Check out this book The Steeples of Old New England: How the Yankees Reached for Heaven and see for yourself. 

Another thing that New England does better?  Appreciating and reusing old buildings.  Very seldom do you see an old house falling into ruin up there.  Whether in town or further in the country, the houses are often bigger with many attached buildings (known as Big House, Little House, Back House, Barn: The Connected Farm Buildings of New England).  Somehow, despite the complaints of high taxes and property values, people manage to keep the buildings presentable and often looking worthy of a spot in Better Homes and Gardens.  

What's the difference between New Englanders and those who live in our area?  Maybe its Yankee thrift.  The building is there, so it should be reused, not torn down or left to rot while the owner lives in a far less subtantial building next to it.  People aren't afraid to turn the barn into a house or studio, change the layout of the rooms, and celebrate the workmanship and quality of a house built prior to the Civil War.  They'll even move buildings rather than tear them down.  The attention to detail has created a market for craftsmen who can restore old windows, install clapboard siding, and duplicate old woodwork, a la This Old House.   All those beautiful buildings tug at the heartstrings and generate tourism dollars from people who  want to experience the ambiance of New England and feel the pull back to a simpler time. 

So what's happened here in Southwest Virginia?  There is a strong tie to one's "homeplace".   Unfortunately, the homeplace is often weeded up and falling to the ground.  No one has lived there since several generations ago and the family either hasn't been able to agree on who owns the property or can't afford to do anything with the house.  So everything collapses.  Some of us have surmised that this might be tied to the Appalachian way of life that has so been shaped by outsiders coming in and exploiting natural resources, creating a throw away existence for many.  Due to mining, lumbering, and industry, people are less bothered by the raping of the landscape, including collapsing homes and towns.  What would be completely unacceptable in New England becomes an every day occurrence experienced by generations of Appalachian dwellers.  

Sad, but a possible explanation as to why historic preservation is so much more difficult to sell in this area.  Not so sure that explains the steeples though...