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Posts Tagged ‘Corey Thornton’

The Sheridan: A Jewel of a Bungalow In the Midst of a 1980s Neighborhood

August 8th, 2014 Sears Homes 3 comments

Last week, I was in the St. Louis area, visiting my precious daughter and her family.

During our time together, we journeyed to Edwardsville, IL. I asked Levi (husband of precious daughter) to take me to a part of Edwardsville where there’s a lake, and he took me to the area around Circle Drive.

A quick glance at the post-Vietnam War houses told me I was in the wrong area, but as we continued around the lake, I spotted a familiar 1920s bungalow.

Taking a closer look, I realized we had found the lone 1920s house in a neighborhood full of very modern houses!

And even better, it was a perfect Gordon Van Tine #612 (also known as The Wardway “Sheridan”)!

Was this the original “Farm House” for that community? Did the original owner of this bungalow sell off 250 acres to create the modern subdivision that now surrounds it? I’d love to know.

The owners have taken good care of this old house, and again, I wonder, do they know that they have something special there?

And if you have any friends in the Edwardsville area, please share the link with them!

To contact Rose, please leave a comment below.

To learn more about kit homes, click here.

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Edwardsville House

The Gordon Van Tine #612 was a spacious, classic bungalow (1926 catalog).

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Dandy floorplan

The #612 had a dandy floorplan and spacious rooms.

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Close-up of the house. Love the porch!

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And here's the GVT 612 in Edwardsville, IL. The home's front door has been moved to the side. It'd be interesting to know if it was built this way, or modified in later yaers. I suspect it was built like this.

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If that side entry is not original to the house, it was certainly done with much care and forethought. And it makes sense, too!

If that side entry is not original to the house, it was certainly done with much care and forethought.

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Close up of the front porch, complete with an electric meter! Note the pattern on the chimney.

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The house has been modified on the side, too, but it's tastefully done.

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Here's a close-up of the catalog image, showing the home's side view

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To the rear of the house is a small addition that was also nicely done.

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Interior of the GVT #612, as seen in the 1926 catalog. Many thanks to Rachel Shoemaker for providing the scanned image!

The Living Room of the GVT #612, as seen in the 1926 catalog. Note the paired windows flanking the fireplace. Many thanks to Rachel Shoemaker for providing the scanned image!

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Sheridan

And here's another beautiful #612 in Northern West Virginia.

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To read more about the Sheridan, click here.

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A Rare Beauty in Mt. Olive, Illinois

March 2nd, 2014 Sears Homes 23 comments

Last week, I was visiting family in southwestern, Illinois and I had an opportunity to drive to Mt. Olive and meet with Realtor Carol Young who has a Sears Modern Home #118 for sale.

It’s also known as The Clyde, and it is, as the title promises, a real beauty in unusually original condition.

When built, the homeowner (whose name I’d love to know), did a lot of upgrades to the house, such as stained glass, oak trim,  (as is evidenced by these photos).

The house is for sale, and it’s priced well below $100,000. For those of us who live in the big cities, it’s almost incomprehensible that a house this big and this beautiful could be had for such a low price.

Frankly, I’m very surprised a local historical society has not snatched it up. The house is located in Macoupin County, and it’s my hope and prayer that some forward thinking soul in the area will have the vision to buy this house and use it for greater good.

Or perhaps some St. Louis commuter will have the foresight to snatch up this house. It’s less than 45 minutes from downtown St. Louis. It’s a fantastic deal on a wonderful old house in a historic community. I hope someone jumps on it.

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Vote

The #118 in Mt. Olive is a real beauty. Outside, the original siding has been replaced, but inside, it still retains many original features. The house is about 45 minutes from St. Louis. The house was probably built between 1908-1914 (but sadly, that's just an eduated guess).

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the clyde 1916

The Clyde, as seen in the 1916 catalog. The small 2nd floor porch was enclosed many years ago. It's now used as a storage room, which seems like a not-so-good use of space. If I owned this house, I think I'd restore the porch.

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The full catalog page, as seen in the 1916 catalog.

The full catalog page, as seen in the 1916 catalog.

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Nice floorplan, too!

Walk-in pantry has a space for the ice box.

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The spacious front porch with massive columns is one of my favorite features of Modern Home #118

The spacious front porch with massive columns is one of my favorite features of Modern Home #118

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Columns

The front porch (deck, ceiling and columns) is also in very good condition.

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Inside, the house is breathtakingly beautiful.

Inside, the house is really stunning. Note the original transom hardware over the door (all intact and operational) and the original light fixtures in the parlor, dining room (shown above), living room and reception hall.

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The fireplace mantel is gorge

All of the trim throughout the first floor and second floor is solid oak - including the fireplace mantel shown above.

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The details are

The tile work is also incredible.

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The wood trim on the fireplace mantel has been carefully polished through the decades.

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Another view into the dining room (with its bay window). Notice the beautiful plaster work above the oak trim.

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The plaster

The plaster finish on the walls is something I'd expect to see in a 1920s Spanish Revival. I belive it's called a "Sante Fe Finish" and I've also heard it called "Spanish Knockdown." If anyone has a better term for this unusual texture, I'd love to hear it! The faux half-timber look is present on the walls throughout the house, from basement to 2nd floor. The attic is unfinished. It's kind of odd to see this tudoresque treatment present in a trailing-edge Victorian home. That's why I'm so interested in the original owner. Was he a plasterer by trade? Those "beams" are 1/4" oak slats. I've never seen anything quite like it.

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Close-up of one of the original light fixtures.

Almost 100 years of living and yet those original glass globes live on.

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Yet one of my favorite features is this original colonnade.

Yet one of my favorite features is this original colonnade found in the parlor/foyer. And it's a mere $32.00! Thanks to Rachel for supplying this image!

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If you look at the flat spots on the colonnades, you'll see a flared spot, for use as a plant stand (1908).

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The solid-oak Loraine Colonnade, as seen in the 1908 Sears Building Materials catalog.

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Close up of the colonnade.

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Side-by-side comparison of the colonnade.

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Close-up of the corbel on the colonnade.

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An Ionic capital graces the top of the colonnade. Pretty snazzy for $32!

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As you step into the reception hall, it just gets better and better.

As you step into the reception hall, it just gets better and better. That staircase just nooks my socks off.

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And it is all solid oak.

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Stained glass

Neither Rachel or I could find this window in any Sears catalog.

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John Boy

It is not only beautiful, but in wonderful condition.

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Another view of this stunning staircase.

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The foyer also has an original light fixture.

The foyer also has an original light fixture.

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The front parlor (facing the street) also has a beautiful stained glass window.

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That half-timbered effect is present throughout the long hallway of

That half-timbered plaster look is present throughout the long hallway of the 2nd floor. Unfortunately, the shag carpeting is also present throughout the entire house (first and second floor).

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You can get a better idea of the unique plaster with this shot at the top of the stairs.

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Inside the house, you can see the original clapboard, a remnant from the enclosed second floor porch.

On the second floor, on the front of the house, you can see the original clapboard, a remnant from the second floor porch that was enclosed - probably in the 1940s or 1950s.

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And the basement wall

This is the original low wall for the 2nd floor porch. Unfortunately, the shag carpet extends even into this room.

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The bathroom

The bathroom was enlarged and updated, probably sometime in the 1960s, judging by the tub. The original bathroom was very small. This room was about 16' square.

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A permanent staircase

A permanent staircase leads to a very spacious attic. We found several starlings in the attic, and in this photo, you can see the bird lighting on the attic window.

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The kitchen is in a need of a little love, but at least it doesn't have shag carpeting!

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Even the basement

The unique plaster and oak trim is on the basement walls and ceiling.

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Its a real beauty!

It's a real beauty!

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And its less than 45 minutes from St. Louis!

The house in Mt. Olive is less than 45 minutes from St. Louis, Missouri! (Plus, on your way to work, you can find free spare tires along the roadway!).

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And this is the real reason for my trip to St. Louis. My little girl - Corey.

And this is the real reason for my trip to St. Louis. My little girl - Corey. She's here playing a piano for a local church in Alton, IL. We had a lovely visit.

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Want to buy the house in Mt. Olive? Click here.

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There Are Some Things Better Than Sears Homes…

December 27th, 2013 Sears Homes 5 comments

This Christmas, my newlywed daughter came to Virginia for a visit, and as a lovely bonus, she brought along her new husband (Levi) and her four-year-old stepson, “Ollie.”

Ollie is a darling little boy and while they were here, our house saw more activity and busy-ness than I think it’s ever seen before.

And I loved every minute of it.

When they pulled into our driveway at 2:00 a.m. on Saturday morning, Levi opened the back door of the Family Truxter and there was little Ollie, sitting patiently in his car seat. He caught a glimpse of me standing in the driveway and in the sweetest little voice, he exclaimed, “There’s Gwandma Wose!”

It brought tears to my eyes.

Cleaning up the house today has been tough, and I’ve felt myself tear up a few times. Under the couch, I found a handful of sea shells that we gathered during our walk by the seashore, and on a desk in the living room, I found the little stuffed dog that Auntie Crystal gave him. I put away the books “Pop” read to him and I discovered a toy left behind in the bathtub.

I can’t face the spare bedroom yet, where I tucked him into bed Monday night and read him several books.

There in the semi-dark room, between stories, he reached out and held my hand and said, “I love you, Grandma Rose.” I told him, “I love you more,” and he replied, “I love you more, too.”

I was falling asleep by the fifth book when he said (in a very serious voice), “I think you should go get into your own bed.”

The little family packed up their little car and returned to St. Louis Thursday and the house is so quiet that it is unnerving.

As my wise friend Janet LaMonica told me last month when my daughter got married, “Rosemary, years ago I learned, there is no such thing as ’step-grandchildren.”

Janet was right.

It may take a few days before I’m ready to write about old houses again. Somehow, they just don’t seem as important right now.

And now it’s time to check out those airfares to St. Louis…

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Christmas this year was an extra-important time, b

Christmas this year was extra special, because it was to be Ollie's first Christmas with us.

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And Ollie loved his little car!

And Ollie loved his little electric car!

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Ollie

The little car has a little horn which works well in these situations. Father is trying to protect Pop's big truck from an accident caused by a little driver. BTW, those little headlights light up.

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Corey and Auntie Crystal watch from a safe distance. The family Truxter sits in the driveway. When Ollie rode past us, we all paid special attention to our toes! That little car is heavy!

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There were also dogs involved. Ollie loves dogs even more than he loves cars! He ran up on the front porch trying to catch Roxey (our neighbors labradoodle). Roxey saw him coming and made a run for it.

There were also dogs involved. Ollie loves dogs even more than he loves cars! He ran up on the front porch trying to catch "Roxey" (our neighbor's labradoodle). Roxey saw him coming and made a run for it.

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The Family Truxter all packed up and headed back to the Alton area.

The Family Truxter all packed up and headed back to the Alton area.

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To read one of my favorite blogs, click here.

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Teddy, the Amazing Watch Dog!

October 7th, 2011 Sears Homes 3 comments

It was about 11:45 pm on a Thursday night when Teddy walked over to my side of the bed, stuck her snout next to mine, and gave me one loud “Woof.”

I opened my eyes and said, “What?” (as if she would answer). With an unmistakable intensity, she looked me right in the eye and repeated herself:  “Woof!”

Usually when there’s another dog outside, she’ll bark a bit and then settle down. If there’s someone walking down the city sidewalk, she’ll bark a little and then stop. But this was different.

I looked into her eyes for a minute and I swear I heard her say, “Listen, you need to get out of that bed and look outside. This isn’t just a random ‘woof’. This one’s important.”

She did not leave her station at the side of my bed but continued to stare intensely at me. I arose from my soft pink bed and toddled outside to the second-floor balcony just outside my bedroom. I looked outside and saw two highly questionable people studying my car, which was parked on the street. One was especially interested in the license plate. The other was leaning over and looking in the driver’s window.

The dog followed me out to the balcony and stood out there and barked. I was trying to figure out if I should yell or call 911, but Teddy’s barking was enough. They immediately stood upright and walked away.

Back in the bedroom, I thanked Teddy and gave her some praise. As I settled back under the covers, I said a little prayer of gratitude for her perspicacity. And I wondered, “How did she know? And how did she know how to get my attention with that little staring maneuver? How could she hear those silent people out there, preparing to mess with my red Camry?”

One of my favorite books is Kinship with All Life and its premise is that dogs are a lot smarter and a lot more intuitive and a lot more attuned to feelings and emotions that we humans can ever understand or appreciate.

The morning after the incident with the miscreants, I praised Teddy to the moon and stars. And that afternoon, she went outside and dug a hole in the middle of my freshly planted St. Augustine grass. Guess she didn’t want me to think she was the World’s Most Perfect Puppy.

This happened about two years ago, and we’ve since moved to another area, but Teddy still keeps a watchful eye over our property. These days, those “intruders” are mostly ducks and geese and racoons and muskrats - and the occasional snake.

She’ll be three years old this month, and she’s been a lot of fun in those three years. Best of all, I’ve never heard her voice one complaint about anything. She really is a good dog, a good companion and a trust-worthy friend.

To learn about the amazing collection of Sears Homes in Hampton Roads, click here.

Read about Teddy and the little boy here.


Teddy the Dog watches over her Sheepie on a Saturday afternoon.

Teddy the Dog watches over her Sheepie on a Saturday afternoon.

Teddy looks regal.

Teddy re-enacts her "watchful pose" at a local park.

Cute puppy, but she was incredibly ill-behaved as a child. Fortunately, she grew up to be a good dog.

"Theodora Duncan Doughnuts Ringer" was a real cutie-pie, but she was incredibly ill-behaved as a child. Fortunately, she grew up to be a very good dog. She's shown here at about eight weeks old, being cuddled by her adoptive daddy.

In this remarkable photo of baby Teddy, she inadvertantly shows off her incredible

Teddy shows here that she not only knows how to "speak duck," but she is mimicking the duck's facial expressions as well.

Ted

Teddy the Amazing Watch Dog.

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On Behalf of a Grateful Nation…

June 20th, 2011 Sears Homes 2 comments

The piece below was written June 20, 2011 (Monday).

Today was the day of my father’s memorial service. And it was also the day that I delivered my first eulogy. Thanks to a lot of kind souls and a lot of help, it turned out to be a beautiful service and was well attended. More than 60 people showed up to pay their respects to Thomas Hoyt Fuller.

The service was opened with remarks from retired Methodist Pastor Dabney Walters, with readings from the Old and New Testament, followed by my comments (see below). After I spoke, Pastor Walters offered a closing prayer. At the end of the service, the Honor Guard did their presentation of the Military Honors, an honor earned by my father’s years of service in World War II.

A sombre and soft version of taps wafted from the back of the room as the two soldiers - in their Army Dress Uniform - walked toward the front of the chapel with the flag, stood ramrod straight before us, gently unfurled the flag, and then refolded it. After it was folded into a triangle, one of the soldiers turned to me, and then slowly and methodically knelt directly in front of me. Looking directly into my eyes, he spoke softly and respectfully and said,

On behalf of the people of a grateful nation, may I present this flag as a token of appreciation for the honorable and faithful service your loved one rendered this nation.

Heretofore, I’d maintained my composure and hadn’t shed a tear, but when that young gentleman presented me with that flag, and spoke those words with such conviction and tenderness, I felt the tears come to my eyes. And everyone behind me and beside me was doing a whole lot of sniffling. It was a beautiful service, and it was a day I’ll always remember.

The eulogy I delivered today at my father’s memorial service follows the photos (below).

My father in January 1943.

My father in January 1943.

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The folded flag I was presented today (Monday, 6.20.2011) at my father's memorial service.

The Eulogy

You may have noticed a statement in the obituary that said my father was moved into assisted living under “strong, strident and consistent protest.”

That’s an understatement.

But it doesn’t begin to describe how he felt when I took away his driving privileges.

Sometime in his late 80s, he became firmly convinced that four-way stop signs were an egregious violation of his constitutional rights and he’d roll right through those stop signs, boldly declaring, “I’m a veteran of WW2, and these stop signs violate those very rights I fought to protect!”

Frequently, he’d get pulled over by local law enforcement, but he told me one day that he’d never been ticketed, because he knew the magic words to say at such a time.

“I start shaking real bad when they ask me for my license,” he explained with a wry smile. “And then I tell them that I’ve already had three heart attacks, and that I’m feeling ill, and that I have to get home immediately so I can take my nitroglycerin tablets.

“They always put away their ticket book and tell me to get home and to be more careful next time.

“It never fails.”

In 2006, he called me and said that he’d had a little car trouble on I-264.

“I’m near the Rosemont Road exit,” he explained. I’m pulled over on the shoulder of the road, and I’ll wait for you here.”

Talking to him as I drove, I said, “Where exactly are you?”

“Oh, I’m easy to find,” he told me. “Just look for the fire trucks. They still have their lights flashing.”

“Fire trucks?” I said with my voice rising.

“Well, they put out the fire, but there’s still a lot of smoke rising from the car. You’ll be able to see me from miles away.”

When I got there, I found him - dressed in one of his fine suits - and standing next to a still-smoldering car. His engine had overheated and literally caught fire.

He got into my car and we got the Caddy taken care of. Heading back to the interstate, he said, “Listen, I was on my way to a dinner date with Cathy Creekmore. I need a ride out to her house and she’d love to meet you.”

I declined the date, and took him home.

After several more months of drama, which included the revocation of his driver’s license and disabling his cars, and removing the license plates from his vehicles and burying them under his azalea bushes in the front yard, and having two cops and one commonwealth’s attorney visit him in person and threaten him with arrest and criminal prosecution, he finally stopped driving, but it was under the most strong, strident and consistent protest.

In 2008, several weeks after he’d stopped driving, I dropped in on him one Sunday morning.

Walking up the front steps to his house, I saw the morning paper still resting on the porch stoop, and I felt a wave of panic.

He was an early riser and usually, he’d have read half the paper by now. Something must have happened to him.

I used my key and entered his spacious brick ranch, yelling his name repeatedly. No response. I moved through his house slowly and deliberately, gently pushing open each door.

As I entered the rooms one by one, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for whatever awaited on the other side, but he was nowhere be found. I left a note on his favorite table and went on to church.

He called me later that day to report that he’d caught an early ride to his church. He told me it was Senior Pancake Breakfast Day at church.

“I’m glad to hear from you,” I told him. “When I saw that newspaper on the front porch, I thought that maybe you’d…”

Died, was what I intended to say, but that sounded so cold and hard. In those fast few milliseconds when the brain scrambles to fill in any gaps in conversation, my alternate for “died” turned out to be a little wordy.

“I thought that maybe you’d…gone on to be with your parents.”

Immediately he replied, with the anger rising in his voice, “How am I going to get there? You took away my car!”

It was hard to know how to respond to that, so I did what I always do when the old man left me flummoxed. I changed the topic and asked what a Senior Pancake tastes like.

He answered by saying that he’d sat next to a beautiful woman at the breakfast and that even though she was 95 years old, she didn’t look a day over 75.

“A real babe?” I asked.

“The pancakes were excellent,” he replied. “And that reminds me, I need a ride to the liquor store soon. I’m almost out of booze.”

That’s Tom Fuller.

He was famous for documenting everything, and he’d take copious notes and then file them safely away. When I cleaned out the house on Briarwood, I found notebook after notebook on every topic imaginable.

The most interesting documentation was a small tablet I found in the living room. It was his “Roach Log.”

He started documenting the physical well-being of the roaches he found in his house, and their specific physiological reactions to being sprayed with toxic chemicals. Each entry was marked with a time and a date.

Knowing that I’d found the mother-lode of documentation, I immediately took a picture of the log and forwarded it to my children. They loved it.

One such entry read, “Unusually large roach found behind sofa. Sprayed at 8:32 pm, and adverse reaction was immediate. Re-checked at 9:15 pm. Legs still wiggling, albeit weakly.”

After he was moved into assisted living, my husband started taking bets on the odds that my father would be evicted from the beautiful facility within 30 days. Problem was, no one would take a bet on him NOT being evicted.

The manager of Province Place called regularly, and she was an angel. Just an angel.

The most interesting incident can best be described as “Grand Theft Rascal.”

Seems my father had walked to the Kroger behind the facility, and “borrowed” one of their electric scooters, and drove it back to Province Place, and parked it in a handicapped spot and then went inside the facility, and asked one of the female residents out on a date, explaining that “now he finally had wheels again.”

The last few years of his life were quite an adventure.

My happiest memory of Tom Fuller comes from my childhood.

When I was about 12 years old, I returned home from a school trip to Washington DC late at night. The chartered bus rolled up to our junior high about 1:00 in the morning and we all scurried off the bus and ran off to find our waiting parents. My father was waiting for me in his recently purchased car, a 1967 Buick Electra 225. It was 1971, but that was the newest used car he’d ever owned and he loved it. It had a 430 cubic inch engine and a four-barrel carburetor.

He told every one who’d listen that it was a one-owner car, and had been owned by a funeral home, so it had never been driven over 25 miles per hour. It was, in his words, a real cream puff.

My father and I were driving down High Street in the wee hours, headed west to our home in Waterview and the streets were deserted. I loved riding in the car with my father and I was so happy that he finally had a nice car. We spent many happy hours riding around in that car and talking, just father and daughter.

That powerful V-8 just purred as we rolled down the quiet streets. Relishing this quiet time with my beloved father, I turned to him and said those three simple words that every father longs to hear.

“Dad, goose it.”

He looked at me and smiled.

“Just this once,” I pleaded. “Let’s see what that V-8 will do. No one’s around for miles. Please Dad?”

He looked at the street for a moment, looked back at me and smiled.

“Hold on,” he said with a lilt in his voice.

And then he floored it.

You could almost hear that powerful engine whisper a quiet “thank you” in that millisecond before it roared to life. As the four-barrel carb drank in great quantities of fuel, those 360 powerful horses came alive. The torque was so powerful the car lunged a bit to the left as we took off. We hit 75 mph in the blink of an eye. That was one of the most delightful memories of my life.

My father eased his foot off the gas, hit the brake and we went back to 35 mph. Felt like we were standing still.

Next week, he took the car in for repairs. Turns out, that powerful torqueing and twisting had busted a motor mount which was an expensive repair. He told me about it later that week adding, “We won’t be doing that again!”

When I was 14, he left home one night, and for the next 30 years, by his choice, he was mostly absent from my life.

Thanks to the grace of God, at the very end of his life, I was able to be there for him, talk to him, comfort him, and kiss him on the forehead and tell him sincerely, “I love you Dad, and I always have loved you, and I always will love you.”

Sunday night, five days before he passed, he sat on the edge of his bed and made three simple statements, and they came from the depths of his soul.

He said, “Mother’s been gone a long time, hasn’t she?”

I asked, “Do you mean, Betty, my mother, or your mother?”

He said, “Betty.”

I said, “Yes, it’s been 10 years.”

He said, “She was the mother of my four children.”

I said, “Yes, that’s right.”

He said, “My four children turned out very well, didn’t they?”

I said, “Yes, your four children turned out well.”

I was comforted to know that at the end, my brothers and I were very much on his mind. It was like the pain-filled distance of those 30 years had closed a bit.

On Tuesday, his last good day, he told me that his parents had come to talk to him. He said they had a long talk, and a good talk. He also said that Betty had sat with him for a time, and they’d had a nice conversation.

He finally was at peace and was ready to go.

He passed on early Friday morning, and I was with him.

He came into this world surrounded by love, and 92 years later he stepped out of this world, again surrounded and embraced by love.

It was a good ending.

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Limes and Tygarts and Bears, oh my!

September 19th, 2010 Sears Homes No comments

So what do Limes and Tygarts and Bears have in common? Not much, unless you’re in my world. My husband likes to eat lemons and limes, rind and all. He says it prevents scurvy. I tell him that there are easier ways to prevent scurvy.

Last year, we took a trip to see the Tygart River (in Elkins) and he ate a lime en route.  And then more recently, we took a trip to Lexington, Virginia and stayed at the House Mountain Inn. This cute little bear (see picture below) was in the dining room. During a meal, I went over to the cute bear and asked him if he’d like a bite of my food.

He smiled sweetly and said, “No thanks. I’m stuffed.”

True story. Kinda. In a way.

Bear

Bear

Buster Keaton Does Sears Homes

August 6th, 2010 Sears Homes No comments

Released in September 1920, this Buster Keaton short depicts a happy couple (Buster and Sybil) being gifted a “ready-to-assemble” kit home. A jealous old beau alters the numbers marked on the framing members (which were marked to facilitate construction), thus wreaking havoc on poor Buster’s ability to erect the 12,000-piece kit.

On a personal note, I find it fascinating that kit homes were so common in 1920 that movie goers could be expected to have the foreknowledge about these mail-order houses, their “marked lumber,” as well as how they were to be assembled.

All that aside, this is a very cute little short, and I first discovered it in 2004, when my daughter Corey used this piece for a senior project she did for graduation from high school. I was honored and touched that my daughter was drawn to a movie on kit homes - because of her mama!  :)

Buster Keaton\’s \”One Week\”