Living in an historic home in an inner city neighborhood can be a daunting challenge. We’ve been in our 1909 house near downtown L.A. for over three years now and while we’ve loved every minute of it, we realize that it is a lifetime project that causes some of our friends who live in lovely modern homes to question our sanity. When people ask me if we’re “done” with our renovations I just laugh. Bringing back the faded glory of these magnificent but neglected homes is more of an ongoing lifestyle choice than a project with an end date. But despite the overwhelming nature of restoring an old house, it is a richly rewarding pursuit that puts you in touch with an amazing array of artisans, craftspeople, historians, experts, and like-minded homeowners whose favorite past-time is sifting through hundred-year-old archives looking for clues to help unlock the mysteries embedded in their homes.
I wrote the cover piece in today’s Los Angeles Times real estate section. It’s just a brief intro to the topic of historic home preservation but if it helps to prevent just one person from switching out their wood-frame windows, removing a 1905 light fixture, or trashing their original pedestal sink or clawfoot tub, it will be time and energy well spent. It’s a running joke for me that I keep writing these cover stories for the Times since I know next to nothing about real estate and for that matter am no journalist, but I am quite passionate about the need to protect L.A.’s rapidly disappearing history. Sometimes when I walk around my neighborhood I am gripped with acid-churning anger at the wanton destruction of so much of the historic fabric of the city thanks to the short-sighted greed of shady developers and decades of urban decay. But other days I am filled with joy and hope at the work that is being done by so many people who care just as deeply about preserving our historic community.
I interviewed several of our neighborhood heroes for this article, preservation contractors who are as visionary as Nostradamus in the way they can see through the modern-day ruins of historic homes and carefully bring them back to their original splendor.
One of the first big projects we took on when we moved in was restoring our hundred-year-old floors. They had been terribly damaged over the years including some bad sanding jobs that were done without removing the large area rugs. A few vendors turned us down flat, saying that the floors were too far gone and we’d be better off replacing them. Finally, one company agreed to give them a final sanding (we were down to the nail heads) without making any guarantees. We were thrilled with the results. Our house is very modest compared to the few grand mansions that remain on nearby West Adams Boulevard, but I’ve yet to see inlaid floors that come close to ours in terms of craftsmanship or materials. Every piece of the three different types of wood used in the floors was hand-cut and inserted. If you want to see me babbling about the floors and other elements of our house, you can check out the rebroadcast of our “If Walls Could Talk” segment a week from tomorrow on HGTV. Kendall will kill me for mentioning it since I dragged her onto that TV show kicking and screaming but she comes off great while I sound like a Warner Brothers cartoon character and look like Jabba the Hutt next to the male model host.
One of the people I interviewed for the L.A. Times article was Adam Janeiro, a local realtor who has a great blog called Recentering El Pueblo. Adam rails on about preservation issues and highlights inspiring success stories as well as egregious examples of urban planning gone bad. Another local blog that I like is called 1912 Bungalow which gives readers a front-row seat for the many projects a couple is doing to restore a beautiful home in our neighborhood. Check out the before-and-after photos, they are stunning. I wish Kendall and I were that ambitious but we’re moving along in our own sweet time. Our current project is gutting a hideous 1970s bathroom and bringing back original fixtures that belong in the house. We found an amazing sink, bathtub, and even a hundred-year-old toilet with a round tank that mounts on the wall. Our bathtub was rescued from the torn-down mansion of the guy who owned the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego. This is where “Some Like It Hot” was filmed in the 1950s and I like to imagine that Marilyn Monroe visited the owners during the shoot and took a bath in this very tub. Hey, it could’ve happened.
I better stop since I’m not sure this historic home stuff is of interest to anyone outside of our specialized cult. But remind me to tell you the story of the ghost sighting we had a while back. Well, it was more than a sighting, it was a three-dimensional entity who actually climbed into bed between me and Kendall before vanishing. Swear to God. It wasn’t scary, though. My hunch is that it was the spirit of Emma Jensen, the wife of the original owner, who wanted to thank us for all the work we're doing on her house. Do you think I’m losing it? Maybe I should start selling a package deal to visitors: Take a bath with Marilyn Monroe and then hold tight for a ghostly ménage-à-trois. Ah, history!
I'm not a historic preservation buff, but I can certainly appreciate your efforts to lovingly resotre your home ... and, I do appreciate the efforts of historic preservation committees (who may seem intrusive) but who find it culturally of value to maintain the integrity of buildings that represent our history (not to mention fabulous construction!!) About the ghost ... well, that does not seem out of the realm of possibility & I hope to hear more!!
much peace to you and Kendall,
JanePoe
Posted by: JanePoe (aka Deborah) | November 19, 2006 at 09:37 PM
As someone who watches 3 hours of HGTV per weeknight, this is right up my alley! Thanks for the links.
Posted by: Heather | November 20, 2006 at 05:36 AM
As someone who has actually visited your home, I should mention that it is an amazing experience. When you walk inside, you are transported to another time. Los Angeles is terrible at maintaining historic structures without turning them into shopping malls or parking garages. I think it is very important to have connections to the past. I only wish there were more public structures as interesting as your home.
Posted by: Neil | November 22, 2006 at 06:52 AM
Ever since working in the Lower Downtown Denver Historic District in the early '90s, I've been obsessed with historic buildings. I was honored to see your home, and strongly felt it was still haunted by the benign spirits of previous occupants.
Historic preservation is difficult as hell. Currently, there aren't sufficient economic incentives to achieve it on a widespread basis. But it's happening, little by little. Your block is a great example, and your house is the jewel in the crown.
Posted by: david | November 22, 2006 at 05:38 PM
Danny! I saw the rerun... I'm in love with your house! Especially those floors. I thought both you and Kendall did very well.
Not only did you find the perfect person to marry (I became convinced of that after reading Kendall's book), you were lucky enough to find the perfect house to live in too.
Posted by: Rurality | November 28, 2006 at 09:04 AM
It does take a certain kind of person to be able to walk into an abused old house and see what it could once again become. I grew up in a house built in 1763, and through my entire childhood (and adulthood) I watched my father painstakingly restore it room by room. Sadly, my father passed away a few years ago, and even though it's still nowhere close to being finished even after 25 years of constant restoration work, my mother still lives there. I supposed it's because you can not only see the 200 year old elements but you can also see my father everywhere you turn. Even though the house is almost 4000 square feet (it used to be an inn) it feels small and comfortable because you're enveloped in so much love that has built up over the centuries.
Growing up in the midst of all of this, I have an intense love of historic homes and antiques. I can walk into an old home and physically feel its past. When I go through a flea market I have to touch every piece of furniture I see, I suppose just to make that temporary link with the past.
Great job with the house, it definitely could be a life long project, but obviously one that will continue to be gratifying.
Posted by: Jen | December 08, 2006 at 10:58 AM