Ive been down to the New City county clerks office and on Friday I went to the Pomona village hall, sent some emails, asked around, nothing. All because I was looking for the history of my house, a charming little colonial thats bathed in sunlight and charm, sits on top of a high hill facing the best seat for sunset views. Since the house predates zoning, it seemed nothing - not a title, no images, no recorded date - could be found. I knew the houses little white well was once used to pump water and that the driveway wasnt needed because the residents had a horse and buggy, and I was eager to imagine what it was like in this lovely little home before we filled it with the flavor of our own world. I needed to know its stories, its people, how time changed it. So with few options left, and some time by myself today, I knocked on my neighbors door. An old gentleman opened; he wore his shirt tucked into his jeans and he had a few white hairs brushed around his head. I told him Im the girl that lives in the house next door and Im wondering if he knows anything about the house. Oh, well, Idonknow! Must be older than me. And Im 87! When I was born - I grew up in that bedroom in your house - it was years after my father, no, grandfather built it. No kidding, his grandfather built it! I knew he must have all my answers so I asked if I could come in to hear some stories. His names Bill, a talkative guy with a dark sense of humor, who calls ladies gals. He lives next door to me, but he grew up in my house. He made my day with plenty of tales, and even promised to come over one night with a box of old photos. His wife came down the stairs in her bathrobe, and we all got to chatting about the area. Our Road, Camp Hill Road, it turns out, is named Camp Hill because George Washington camped there. (NYT: nytimes/2007/11/25/realestate/25livi.html?pagewanted=all&_r=0) Seth has been asking me about the name, and this is by all means the coolest trivia I could show off. When Bill was a little kid, they dug up little shrapnels from revolutionary soldiers bullets. One year, Bill says, the snow was so high, to get water from the well they had to dig a tunnel under the snow! There was an outhouse out back. A little building, white like my house, a domed roof like the house. It was a two seater Bill got excited. You hear? A two seater! A beautiful thing! The garage with the spectacular colored glasswork had a stove on which his mother worked her hand-picked apples and made jam of them. Imagine if I could find a preserved jar of apple jam to smear over a flatbread and eat on my patio on a beautiful spring day! The closest I can come is hearing about it. Bill and Gloria lived in my house when they got married 65 years ago! 65 years, he was right out of the navy, she was a nurse. The second time I met her, I said, will you marry me? She said what are you crazy? She was a keeper, Gloria. 65 years. Time and love are a beautiful couple. PS: Another awesome trivia: the house next door was filmed for My Idiot Brother with Paul Rudd.
Posted on: Sat, 05 Apr 2014 20:40:43 +0000
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