I guess things can’t stay the same forever; the land across from where I grew up was just empty farmland that whole time; it was so nice to be able to stand in the front yard or sit on the front porch with my dad in the evenings after he got in from work and watch the sun set. The man who owned said it was to never be sold but he probably never dreamed of the brave new world of leasing. Guess big bad box store of Wal-mart doesn’t want to tie their money up with buying property or maybe they were just willing to lease this, since it couldn’t be sold, but really think the man who owned never intended it to be developed, was his real idea, but things don’t always go the way we want, maybe even if we actually get explicit about it but certainly if we don’t, at least I hope they didn’t just override it, although I would have thought his attorney, which I would have thought he would have had draw up his will, would have thought of this, but maybe not; maybe would be an interesting question to pose to the property valuation administration as I now deal with my own issue of my own parent’s death; maybe puts a little different perspective on it; anyway, that’s what happened with his death, creating then much more traffic right in front of the little house I grew up in, almost getting my dad run over trying to get across what was already a busy highway to get the mail and paper. That finally got him to agree with mom, who’d been wanting it for a long time, what with what had already been what had caused this in the first place, the commercialization of their neighborhood, being rezoned commercial, which actually I do think dad went along with to increase his property value for the future, in case he ever did want to move; never really heard much about his taxes, might also be something need to check into, but having caused several of the neighbors to already move, leaving mom without hers that were her friends, so she’d been wanting to move for a while, so now dad was as well. Rather interesting that just as soon as they told their best friends, who just happened to live in the area they wanted to move to and just happened to have a son who was a realtor, with his office also pretty much in the same area, he just happened to have a house right where they wanted to move that just happened to have just come up for sale for a price that he just happened to have a buyer for theirs willing to pay just what they would have to get for theirs in order to not have a mortgage on their new place, which had always been a condition for him moving, but could never find such a place where they wanted to move, then besides all that told them their next-door neighbor on their other side – theirs was the last place that had not already gone commercial – had just signed to sell his house, so…all this after dad had agreed to list the house, have a sign put up but only for the weekend, since he wasn’t really entirely comfortable with all of this yet, but with all that he/they signed the paperwork and sold their house and bought the new one before hardly anybody even knew what they were doing, not that we had to, but…
there were other issues; dad had built a nice “garage” – hate to call it just a shed or storage building, it was so nice but really that’s what it was – behind their house;their lot was so narrow you couldn’t even drive around it to get a car in it, which did cause some issues with the tax people when it was built; apparently one which you can put a car in is taxed differently than one you can’t, but which the new house didn’t have, although it did have a 2 car attached garage. However, one of the first things dad did was build a new one, but not nearly so big or nice. The new owner of the old house then turned around and sold the house to be moved out in the country (anybody remember Virginia Lee Burton’s children’s house The Pink House, I believe, about the house that eventually got moved); however, the “garage” was just torn down, when it should have been stipulated to have been allowed to have been moved to their new place, rather ate into their sale price, having to build a new one, or they should have held out for more to cover building a new one, but that’s where the neighbor sale came in, which not sure what exactly happened there but it didn’t; he didn’t move for years.
Then, in addition to that, there naturally had to be a reason why this particular house in this particular neighborhood would be one that would have this sale price on it; it wasn’t built well, kinda like building in earthquake territory a house not built to code; you won’t know it until you have an earthquake, though had they had my uncle’s, who were builders, to look at this one, they would have known; however, it probably wouldn’t have mattered; it was where they wanted at a price, although that goes back to their buyer only wanted their lot; however, it was the smallest one in their neighborhood, so not really sure how much more they really could have gotten for it and with dad almost getting run over, they were ready; however,
also, right after they moved, the neighbor who didn’t got the post office to move the mailboxes over to their side of the road so he didn’t have to cross the road anymore, which somewhat annoyed mother; however,
she was the one who’d been wanting to move anyway and she certainly enjoyed being back to living in a neighborhood, not a commercial development, so guess it all worked out well in that regard anyway.
Loved the house I grew up in though; it had a real stone façade, not this veneer stuff they have now and not the flat stones, the real, rough, rugged kind. Those, of course, had to be taken off, for the house to be moved and very few people are going to go to the trouble to put something like that on anymore. The house was built by a builder for his own family, so you’ll more often find that someone like that will be more willing to put those extra touches. However, the new owners of the house were going to take them and make a fireplace and chimney, of course; it had a perfect spot in the house for it; it had a window at the end that only looked out into the carport.
The new house did have something I’d always wished for, though; a covered porch, not very deep, but there, nonetheless, with a walkway leading to the front door on it, something our old house never had; rarely was the front door, the one dad and I used to sit on the porch of to watch the setting son, used by anybody coming in or out, since there was no walkway to it. It also had a walkway to the back deck, something the old one didn’t have either, since, again, the lot was so narrow, the driveway could only go to the carport, not beside or beyond it to the back. This did cause problems later on, however, since those squares not being a solid walkway caused mom to stumble as her hip began giving her problems with her walking.
Both mom and dad had grown up in the country, albeit on opposite sides of the county, but mom had moved to town to a boarding house to work in the local factory, with, it turned out to be, dad’s sister, which is how they ended up meeting while dad was off to war with his parents doing the same thing while he was gone, only during that time, sister/my aunt actually worked out in the country yet another direction at the munitions plant, which of course shut down with the end of the war and my dad coming home. Both of the houses they grew up in were eventually torn down; dad’s was sold for his parents to buy their house in town while my uncle was able to buy the one mom grew up in, so him tearing it down was somewhat harder for mom to take. My dad was one of 7 children, having 3 brothers and 3 sisters. I wish I could have seen the house they grew up in, though I can picture it, from the stories he told. Mom and I used to go out to where she grew up and get that good rich woods dirt, as she called it, to bring back, some for our garden, mostly for her flowers and plants she loved so much, but mainly what I remember and so glad I can do the same now for my granddaughter, was digging sassafras root.