Why I Love Old Houses

      I love old houses.  I don't have a clue how to build one or the knowledge of how to calculate the necessary materials to even begin constructing one.  Salt treated, knotted pine, galvanized nails, these are all words I've heard Uncle Jesse Foreman speak when he would remodel or work on a house.  The craftsmanship and the quality of it's construction is a story all by itself.  However, that's not why I love old houses.
     The numerous old houses on the Island have a story to tell.  There is history in those houses.  Standing on the threshold of some the Island's older homes, one can picture a Grandma sitting on the porch, bonnet on her head, with a pan of beans and her feeble hands shelling them.  One can hear the screen door slam as the grandchildren come running out of the house, only to disappear to the woods to play.
     You look inside the door.  You notice the banister that leads up the stairs.  One can imagine how many generations of hands have run down it.  You notice the thin sheets of wavy glass in the windows.  You wonder how many times has a Grandfather looked out to check the weather.  In the kitchen, you see the kitchen table with it's chairs neatly surrounding it.  There's a sugar dish sitting there.  I then imagine the many times the family has gathered to break bread, but not before giving thanks.
     On one of my recent trips to the Island, I stopped throughout and took pictures of the old houses.  Some were in remarkable shape while others have succumbed to overgrowth and the elements of time.  Some of the homes I could identify who it's former residents were, yet some I couldn't recall.  Each one of these houses was "home" to an Islander.  And no matter who lived or owned them, they all contributed greatly to what the Island is today.
     Several homes had the same architectural appearance.  Note that the porch construction on these homes below all bear the same resemblance.

The Tildon Potter home.  Middle Prong Rd. Lowland

Unknown owner.  Located at the end of Hobucken Rd, after the pavement ends. Now a hunting camp. 

     The homes pictured below also bear some resemblance to their construction.  The windows on the second story are all narrow and near the chimney.

The former Midgette home. Horne Rd. Lowland

The former Cooledge Ross home. Horne Rd. Lowland.

     Several homes on the Island still showed the detached kitchens.  Some are in remarkably good condition while others are falling victim to time and the elements.

The former Albert and Mollie Campen Home. Horne Rd. Lowland.

The former Buell Potter Home. Main Rd. Lowland

Unknown owner. Upper Spring Creek Rd.

Unknown owner. Main Rd. Hobucken.

Unknown owner at sharp curve on Schoolhouse Rd. Hobucken

     But these homes are beautiful to me.  These homes provide me with a sense of place and a time where people had a perspective on life.  They may have contributed a small part to the story of Goose Creek Island but their importance is so much bigger.  The homes still stand there, most have changed, yet unmoved, while the world around it has changed.  Museums display artifacts and history books contain pictures.  But stepping into one of the Island's older homes is like stepping back in time.  You can touch the history.  You can spiritually interact with the home and with it's former occupants to connect time and place. 
    These older homes have memories.  Memories that can not be washed out from the tide of a hurricane or the wild growing vines that overtake it's structure.  I hate it when I see an old home being torn down.  These homes have character.  They are reminiscent of days gone by.  They just feel "right" to be a part of a community.  There was love and care in these houses.  The hands that molded that banister or gently hammered the trim around those thin glass windows, were also the hands that have guided each one of us to be good stewards to our community.