It is amazing where life takes us if we just let it. There is a certain perspective that comes with age. That ability to look at something as if it is a part of life’s long journey and to understand that it, or you yourself, may change at any given moment. Situations, positions, and attitudes change throughout our lives. If we remain open to the twists and turns, those highs and lows, those prosperous and those lean times, we often find ourselves in places far more rewarding than we planned.
When my sons and I restored a 1906 American Four Square in the Springfield Historic District of Jacksonville, Florida, I said I’d never do that again. Living in an almost 100 year old home with 20 porch columns and a 1,200 square foot two-story story wraparound porch in the midst of what in 1979 was considered “the slums” was a daunting undertaking. One attractive aspect was the $2,000 Homestead Grant offered through the Department of Housing and Urban Development. We, along with a smattering of other urban pioneers, came along with a positive attitude and a sense of indignation indicative of those of us who were young in the 60s. We knew, of course, that in “about five years” we could turn that 12 by 12 square block community around—144 blocks of homes in various stages of decay, ripe for the “new people” who were coming to Jacksonville to purchase. It is very often the newcomers, the outsiders, “those people” who see the value that is right under the nose of locals. Such was the case. Many in Jacksonville wanted Springfield to be as one appraiser told me, “mowed down to make room for new worthwhile homes.”
Our grand plans took decades to accomplish due to many factors, including Jacksonville’s fascination with urban removal and opposition to urban renewal. That and crack hitting the nation in 1983 were almost too much for a fledgling community of wide-eyed do-gooders. And it would have been for any less stalwart group. We, on the other hand, grew in numbers stopping bulldozers in their tracks, picketing properties owned by slumlords, and buying and restoring homes one at a time. We laid the groundwork for those who came in the second wave—those who came after Red Lining by community banks was outlawed and loans became available. Loans meant less sweat equity and more hiring of contractors. More money meant more people, some who purchased whole face blocks at a time.
Springfield is Jacksonville’s oldest urban community due to a fire in 1901 that destroyed the entire city south of a small creek that saved the neighborhood. Through the dedication of those first adventurous movers and shakers, Springfield earned a historic district designation on the state, national and local levels. It was that same wealth of housing stock that some wanted to be torn to the ground. Over a thousand structures deemed significant to America’s history, Florida’s history and especially to that of the City of Jacksonville who at that time was its worst enemy. Again, it is all in the perspective of the observer.
There are many such structures here in the Shenandoah Valley. Abandoned houses, farms, and barns standing empty yet stately. Houses devoid of paint, windows broken, now homes only to flocks chimney swifts. I noticed many of these while living across from Mac’s Greenhouse in Woodstock. Day tripping along Route 11 and Route 42, I would see stone buildings ripe for restoration and romanticize living in one. Yet after over 20 years of living in a “work in progress,” it was the last thing I wanted to take on. After living in the Valley for three years, I sold my home in historic Springfield and just by happenstance one day spied the old white store advertised in a Realtor catalog. I was looking for something to create loft space, something bright and big. Something cool, something different, something without porches and columns. Something more industrial.
That is exactly what our 1820 Brick Federal home has become, inside. Clean lines, gleaming wood floors, glass, metal and plenty of light. Outside we are still completing the restoration of the brick and of the limestone foundation. And of course there is still “The Dig.” In the past couple of weeks we have made significant headway on removing more dirt and large chunks of limestone blocks used to fill in the cistern. Ron points to the mess and reminds me that I want his utility trailers parked in a neat row, yet continue to throw dirt and rocks in piles just outside our door. He is a neat-nick and just doesn’t get the whole “archaeological dig” thing that I have going on. Being the meticulous painting contractor that he is, he thinks of things as start to finish, where as I think of ongoing adventures.
Brian and Cheryl Ash, friends who own eCycle Consultants, happened to stop by and offered some very valuable advice about restoration of cisterns. Brian has taken on more than one in his time and alerted us to the fact that they often had a pipe running into the cellar from which a hand pump would deliver water for household use. He guestimated ours would be about 7 to 9 feet deep.
A.D. Carter, a friend from the Lighthouse Networking Group, turned up right on time. He was raring to get into the hole and Ron and I were all for it. A.D. is a bear! He dead-lifts weight so throwing 100-pound chunks of limestone out of a 6 foot deep hole was a piece of cake for him. That and the thrill of finding bottles, batteries, and bones kept him going for hours. I’ve never seen such a thing. He had stacks of limestone blocks and many intact bottles all from the same location. The intact bottles were along the outer edge of the cistern, up against the walls where the fire was not as hot and the stones left gaps. He unearthed several cool pieces of pottery including the very one I was hoping for. Not that it means much, but we found a small shard from an Eberly Bros. piece. Eberly house, Eberly pottery?
AD's finds added to the first day's collection of bones and bottles.
During the first day’s dig we found pieces of a broken glass sign. White with black letters, all in fairly large pieces as broken glass goes. After being carefully washed and dried, the pieces have taken up residence on one end of our dining table. We have become fascinated with finding out what the sign said so we have formed a family project of this glass jigsaw puzzle.
Another great find was what appears to be a brass stamp of some sort. It looked like a belt buckle at first, but we noticed the worn letters were in reverse. After rubbing with a pencil and applying to white paper we can make out something like Zionoffing. Better eyes than mine will have to be applied to solving this mystery.
I’ve spent hours online trying to date and learn about various bottles from our dig. My favorite is a broken Coca Cola bottle with script along the shoulder and on the underside. The newest of the bottles thus far it seems to have been made between 1910 and 1919. The King Cola bottles from Edinburg, Virginia, are in great shape and we’ll probably donate one to the town’s museum if they want it. Turns out that C.E. Thompson’s originally opened in the King Cola Bottling plant and that the building is still standing. It is now on my list of places to visit.
The cistern has gained its own fan club and visitors. It is nice to look from the second story porch to see people chatting while someone else is digging and exclaiming with excitement at new finds.
AD Carter digging at home of LtdPrints.com
