The Story Of How The Roots Of One House

I feel a light tap on my shoulder as my brother, Andrew, pulls me out of my gaze. I look around, noticing the cars not in motion anymore. "We're here," Dad says, turning the car off. Shoving my phone into my pocket with the headphones wrapped sloppily around it, I focus on the house in front of us. I have only seen pictures of it on the housing website dad purchased it from. It doesn't look much different; it's still small with two stories and ugly green shutters to match the tan siding. The only thing I like about it is the small bushes lining the front. Mom used to spend hours shaping the ones at

As a woman, Mama’s aspirations to get a house was uncommon in those days, but Mama always dreamed of moving out of there small apartment and into a nice house in a safer neighborhood with a small garden.(92). She describes her dream house like it is the most spectacular thing in the world. She is extremely happy for herself, but happier for her family. However, Mama’s goals are more complicated then just wanting a house. With this house she feels that the family now has hope and can accomplish their dreams. On the other hand, without this house Mama predicts that the family will continue with

After it was finished being built we moved in. And there we stayed.Me since I was 5 I had to attend school So at the end of the summer I applied to North Springs Elementary school. Well my parents did. But I attended North Springs Elementary till I was in 3rd grade. While I was at North Springs a lot of stuff happened. My hamster Dude after about 2 years he died. Of old age. I came home from school and my parents sitting on the stairs to the second floor holding each others hands. They said they had something to tell me, Then they told me my hamster died. They had a burial for him, put him in a computer mouse box. And I decided to put a fake flower on top of his so called grave. Then ended up taking the flower in fear of my 6 year old self would dig it up and I don’t know perform some Frankenstein experiments on the dead hamster. Then after dude died about a year later when I was seven on valentine's day my parents took me to North Carolina. When we got to wherever we was going. We met a nice lady and a dog that she so happened to be giving away because she could no longer take care of it as she was going into the military. So the lady just gave us a dog. She was about 1 year and a half when we got her. She was a

I always hated going into their room because I thought it was haunted and had nightmares about it. When I was 8 years old, I would have recurring dreams that aliens were abducting me from my parent’s room, while they slept unconsciously aware of what was happening. The dream would start off with an alien space ship hovering over the house directly over my parent’s room. I had just woken up from a nightmare and I had gotten out of bed and walked over to my parent’s room. When I entered their room, I ran over to their bed and jump in between my parents and hid under the covers. However, the room was dark and all you could see was an array of flickering lights come from the two windows that faced the front of the house from their room. I panicked and tried to wake my parents up, but they were in a deep sleep and pretty sure they didn’t realize I was sleeping in between them. However, I felt safe being in their room, while my little sister slept in her room on the opposite side of the house. All of a sudden, I peak my head out from under the sheets and stare directly into the master bathroom. I’m in a trance and begin to see long dark shadowy figures going in and out of the

One of the houses was Deep South looking; run down and bare of any organized growth, i.e. landscaping. It was just a large rectangle— greatly in need of paint and repair. And, this house just happened to be near the heart of The Town of Smithtown, right in the cross roads of the historic area of the celebrated main street. But, in hindsight, perhaps this dwelling was a part of that history—a reminder of the history that had its good and bad; the well to do and the have nots, with some of the have nots, not having because the haves didn’t want them to.

The house sat on the mostly yellow, dead grass of street in Perry Iowa. It of course held memories just like many other houses, but this one tried hard to forget the memories. It was once a yellow like the dead grass it sits upon now. The newly painted blue on the house was a fresh start to the house – making new memories – but just like the ones forgotten they drown in the blue color. It’s an unforgettable house, unforgettable like the memories it produced.

The subject originally resided in Martinez, California. The place of residence being a large Victorian house. This house was built by the subject’s mother. Built on top of a hill, the house offered a vista of the rest of the suburbs of Martinez. The subject has shown particular liking to the memories of the willow tree in the backyard.

The village of Ludlow, Pennsylvania may look like any other abandoned, small town America, but there is one thing that remains from its glory days, Olmsted Manor. This victorian mansion appears to belong in New York or Boston but it is the middle of wilderness Pennsylvania. In the cold, misty hills of Appalachia, this magnificent home was built by one of the founders of Long Island Light and Power who was one of the pioneers of electricity. Here is a hamlet is which full of my relatives and back woods people. I visit the Olmsted manor each fall on my way to the Penn State football game, were I visit my grandfather’s relatives with my Grandpa, Dad and sister. This manor was built in 1917 and includes a servant’s wing, extensive gardens and attic bowling alley where we bowl during each visit. My great grandfather worked as a watchman in George Olmsted’s tannery mill and my grandfather worked as a gardener at the manor in order to pay for his scouting camp each summer. My great grandparents were from Slovakia and immigrated through Ellis Island to this tiny village with its orange, rust

Before, this house, I participated in helping others; because I simply enjoyed it. It felt good to help, but working at Virginia’s house, taught me that I cannot do this for my own pleasure, but because it is the right thing to do. If I do not, they will continue to live in a home that is not safe, warm, nor dry. The effect of experiencing this created a profound impact, in such a way that it changed who I am, and how I live my life. I will never forget Virginia Banks, nor the horrid conditions of her home. Why did she and her home cause such a profound impact upon what I thought I knew about myself. The dangerous condition of the home was not the only factor that lead me to learn something new about myself. Virginia lacked the ability to financially, physically, and mentally better her own life. She did not even truly understand that her home could catch on fire and kill her in the middle of the night. I realized that if I did not help her, she would continue to live in a dangerous

The house that Lennie, George had bought had undergone many changes. It had a new coat of yellow paint like the colour of ducklings, with a black roof and a chimney for the stove. The house was perfectly located in within the hills and meadows, not far from the Salinas River. It was only just hidden from civilization but felt like a mile away from anywhere. A place like this would be difficult to find but certainly not impossible.

I am standing outside the Wolcott House and it is 30 degrees out. A cold breeze runs through my coat. The Wolcott House is a late Federal early Greek Revival style home built around 1830. The home remained in the Wolcott’s family possession until 1959 when it was then turned over to the public. It was built in Maumee during the pioneer days; the home is a magnificent white two story, fourteen-room mansion. The house overlooks the Maumee River, a perfect location for James Wolcott. He was a shipbuilder, architect, politician and judge, it was crucial for him to have easy access to the river. It has been documented that this historical home is haunted. There have been visions and the feeling of super natural presence in the rooms of the home. I try to imagine myself back in time, in the late nineteenth century. Instead of the roar of cars, I would hear the boats on the Maumee River. The sound of wood being chopped would be heard in the distance, one of the Wolcott children doing some of their daily chores. The Wolcott boys, all five of them, would be responsible for supplying the wood and kindling for the fireplaces.

In the latest issue of This Old House, check out how a neglected 1928 bungalow makes for a cozy cottage redo. Buying a first house is a personal landmark that often signals the beginning of adulthood. But at 26, Brenna Byerlotzer didn't have homeownership on her mind when she came upon the small stone house that she would claim as her own. In fact, she decided in a split second to take the major domestic step. Despite that sudden start, nothing else in her home-owning saga would move fast. Grab this issue to read this exciting story, which shows how a first-time homeowner revives a neglected house with patience, perseverance, and a little help from her skilled friends.

Once they got out of the airport and onto the highway, the roads were less abound with cars and taxis. Tim couldn't help but think that Floridians must have a replete of orange juice in their refridgerators if the amount of orange trees in the area was any indication. Their subdivision was about 45 minutes from the airport. Everyone in Tim's family had seen the house only in pictures except for Tim's father who had made two trips to Florida since the purchasing of the home. When the taxi pulled up in front of 3567 North Lake Dr., Tim was still shocked at how magnificent the house was. The house was enormous. It was a weird green tinge; it reminded Tim of throwup. He had no idea why his mom would pick such a disgusting color. The house was two stories with a balcony occupying the second floor and through the front door, you could see a beautiful crystal chanderlier. To the right of the home was a three car garage attached to the house; to the left was a pool house. The mansion had way more rooms than their small home in China.

1) This is Our House. : A young girl tells the history of her multigenerational family as they live and grow in the same house throughout the years

The setting for this interview with Mamie McFadden was done in her home at 10786 S. Peoria, Chicago, Illinois. The house is a brick cottage with a concrete based metal rail porch. Mrs. McFadden welcomed me at the door and mentioned that her cleaning lady had recently departed and that she was excited to do this interview. Walking in the door at 12:30 in the afternoon, I was greeted with the aroma of cooking cabbage from the rear kitchen area. The living room, where the interview would take place, appeared to stop in time. There was no doubt that this home was decorated in the prime of her life during the 1970s. The orange plastered walls contrasted with the crème ceiling, along with the square tiled mirrors on the south wall, took me back