Article Video - I Once Lived in a House - Thursday, May 11, 2023 By Anna Von Reitz

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Article Video - I Once Lived in a House - Thursday, May 11, 2023 By Anna Von Reitz

The house was a magnificent wreck, with a stairway going down to the basement straight out of a Boris Karloff movie, dark, creaking uneven stairs, dusty, festooned with cobwebs, the dry treads trembling with age, shadows reaching out deep into the uncertain faint light of the open doorway to the first floor above.

Simply retrieving a can of tomatoes from the similarly ancient shelves in the basement was like a lifetime adventure, requiring groping, placing each foot gingerly on each step, afraid that a rusty lawn rake, shovel, or other implement would dislodge from tenuous lodgings on the shadowed wall----and land with ghastly precision on my head. Indiana Jones ain't got nothing on me. This house was like the Temple of Doom and I lived in it.

There were, however, some respites. After we managed to find a chain long enough to reach the first floor and sturdy enough to clank around the perimeter of the 7-foot chimney hole and after that exercise dislodged a family of bats, two dead squirrels, a similarly dead pigeon, and approximately ten gallons-worth of creosote and ash, it was possible to have a warm fire on a cold night.

The roof, though perilous, stubbornly continued to shed rain.

The early century appliances in the kitchen, including a circa 1935 Waring Blender and a cast-iron Sears and Roebuck Stand Mixer, complete with fabric-wrapped electrical cords, still worked. And the plumbing, God helped us with that-- the plumbing was all copper pipe of an unknown age and unpopular dimension, but it transported water grudgingly from the basement to the Third Floor where the hot water service terminated. The garret, where I lived, got cold water only.

The original inhabitants built this house just after The American Civil War and they had no concept of modern heat systems at the time, so the dragon-like furnace was added afterward and lived under the first floor stairway.

Still, on an autumn afternoon, the house was a welcoming hulk backed up against the storm clouds and swirling leaves. It seemed to say, "I've shouldered the snow and had leaves in my gutters for over a hundred years! I'll make it a few years more!"

In the spring both the yard and the house gave rise to a continuance of wonders, as I and my odd cast of roommates plus cats and dogs dug through the attic and raked the grounds, finding such oddities as a wreath made out of human hair, and a form of Belladonna growing in the garden which everyone thought was extinct.

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