In addition to finding a gem of a house, we have also found a gem of a neighborhood. Squier Park is rich in history, architecture, and camaraderie. The neighbors have been so welcoming, and not just the ones living in the houses immediately north and south, but everyone we have met. And we have already met more Squier Park neighbors in four months than we have met in four years in our current neighborhood. I announced at the neighborhood association meeting that I would like to write a National Register nomination for all of Squier Park and within 24 hours I had 5 volunteers. It is a great group of creative, thoughtful, engaging individuals and families. I can’t wait to actually move in.

Squier Park plat 1908

The history of Squier Park is fascinating as well. James J. Squier first platted the land surrounding his expansive manor home adjacent to the Troost Avenue cable car line in 1887 when it was still five blocks south of the city limits. Squier’s son-in-law Robert V. Jones filed a new plat in 1908 that incorporated development concepts popular at the time, including winding streets that respond to the topography of the land and dictating the architectural character of the neighborhood.

Intersection of Manheim Road and East 39th Street

And did I mention the architecture? Jones wanted each house to have a different design. Victorian, Craftsman, Prairie, Colonial Revival, Classical Revival, Tudor Revival, Shingle, International Style, you name it, it’s here. Many of them were designed by some of Kansas City’s heavy hitters: Louis Curtiss, Smith, Rea & Lovitt, John McKecknie, Nelle E. Peters, Alice Jackson, Frederick Michaelis, Selby Kurfis, Shepard & Farrar. Squier Park is a veritable catalog of early twentieth century architecture. Most are highly intact and lovingly restored. The idea that our house will be among them is great motivation.

At last – tangible progress! The kitchen has walls; the holes in the living room plaster are patched, the second floor has ceilings. It is truly amazing how much of a difference a little (or in this case a lot) drywall and plaster skim coat can make. It has renewed my faith that this project will actually be completed, some day. It is still a long way from being done.

Here are a few “Before” and “During” photos:

Kitchen walls insulated

Kitchen drywall

Kitchen drywall mudded and taped

Butler's stair before

Butler's stair with plaster patches

2nd floor hall ceiling before

2nd floor hall ceiling with drywall

Now we can actually start thinking about finishes, fixtures, and paint colors: the fun stuff

Living room patched plaster

It has been a while since this blog was last updated, and for good reason: the planning and paperwork stage takes a loooong time.

I have a new appreciation for what our clients go through at the start of each project. Thinking through each step of the entire rehabilitation process, trying to account for all of the labor and materials that will be needed throughout the project, and determining costs for each of these things is tedious and tiresome. And absolutely necessary. I am sure that this is a good exercise for anyone starting a project of this magnitude anyway, but it was still exhausting. And figuring out the balance between what we need to do with the house, what we want to do with the house, and what is historically appropriate for the house was a big focus of this stage. The paperwork is now filled out, signed, notarized, copied, submitted, and received by the proper agencies.

Of course the next step is finding qualified people to perform the work we painstakingly laid out. We, as a family, already know that this project is beyond our capabilities, in both the amount of time and level of skill required to do it properly and before our two-year-old graduates from high school. So the question becomes: do we A.) hire a general contractor who then subs out all the work, or B.) find the subs ourselves and hire someone to manage the project? We chose option B. We already had an electrician who did great work on our current house, so there wasn’t a question of using him for this project. And we got recommendations for other trades that submitted competitive bids.

And so now the work has begun in earnest. The fleet of pick-up trucks out front and classic rock blaring on the radio prove it. The energy audit was performed last week to get a baseline “before” condition. The heavily damaged plaster and drywall ceilings on the second floor came down with the help of some very good friends. The insulation contractors began are working their way quickly and thoroughly from the basement to the attic, ensuring the heating and cooling systems as well as the movement of air and moisture make the house as energy efficient as possible. Next up are plumbing, electrical, structural, and HVAC. While all these trades are all vital to the proper functionality of the house, their progress does not generate interesting or dramatic images.

Stay tuned for progress pics!

When I was a child in the early 1970s my family moved to Denmark for two years. We lived in the pleasant suburb of Åbyhøj, just outside of Århus, Denmark’s second largest city on the Jutland peninsula. I have fond memories of those years, particularly of the house we rented.

The house was older, unrenovated and a bit dark, but very cozy. The small kitchen had a behemoth stove and little counter space. The one toilet had a raised tank with a pull chain — definitely original fixtures. The yard was divided into sections with a walk that circled the house. A tall hedge ran next to the sidewalk with a heavy iron gate at the front walk. Snow drops and anemones bloomed next to the house to herald spring. A bank of old fashioned hip roses perfumed the patio in summer. We collected walnuts from the tall tree in the side yard in autumn. Behind the house was a seemingly huge grassy lawn ringed with espaliered apple and pear trees, a vegetable patch and a “tree” house/fort. Best of all, the house had a name — Panduro.

A vintage view of Villa Panduro, possibly from the late 50s after the bay window was added.

After we moved away in the summer of 1974, I only returned twice, in 1975 and in 1987, before our visit this summer.  It was only on this last visit that I truly understood the house.  As we drove up to meet the current owners, I was shocked to see that our Panduro was an International Style box. White when we lived there, it currently wears a faded coat of mint green paint, but the boxy form, flat roof, and lack of ornament speak loudly to its origins.  As fate would have it the current owners have a deep respect for the house and its architecture, and they shared with me a history of the house that they had researched and written. This felt like kismet.

Announcement for 1933 Open House.

Villa Panduro was built in 1933. It was the model home for a development of about 15 Funkishus — functional modern houses –built in Åbyhøj amid the more traditional housing stock in the mid 1930s. At least half were designed local architect Hans Møller.  A landscape architect laid out the yard around the house, fashioning the distinct spaces that are still evident today.

The sleek lines and sparse ornament of Modernism were as novel in Denmark at this time as it was in the United States. During a Sunday afternoon open house in 1933, over 1500 people visited Panduro to see what modernism was all about. They were taken in by the angular mass with its flat roof and corner windows.

Leaving Panduro, I pondered the influence of nature versus nurture. Had living in a functional box bolstered my insight or given me an inherent understanding of Modernism? Was that experience at the root of my attraction to clean lines and sleek forms? Perhaps it was just a happy coincidence of fate.

With Aase and Hans-Jorgen at Villa Panduro, July 2011.

Many thanks to Hans-Jørgen Jensen-Wettlaufer & Aase Nørrung for welcoming visitors from afar and for sharing the wonderful history of Villa Panduro!

My husband, daughter, and I are about to embark on what I am pretty sure is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. As a historic preservation professional, I have seen numerous historic buildings transformed from tired, dilapidated, deteriorated assemblages of wood, stone, and brick into beautiful, functional structures that contribute positively to the world around them. Now I have the unique opportunity to be part of this process from the inside.

Edwin H. Ulrich House

While trolling a local real estate website for kicks, we came across a rather intriguing listing. The description was suspiciously vague and there were only five photos, so we had to go see it. The exterior was unique; the interior woodwork was all there. However, it did not have a kitchen or any working bathrooms; there were gaping holes in floors, walls, ceilings. And yet, somehow, we were hooked, we were emotionally involved.

Edwin H. Ulrich House, Living Room

Clearly the previous owner was emotionally involved too. He had stripped miles of painted woodwork, painstakingly removed and stored deteriorated stained glass windows, carefully saved the only four original light fixtures. He had begun such a large renovation project by himself, that after nearly a decade he was spent both mentally and physically. The house was certainly further along than when he started, but it still had a long way to go. But he did not let go easily. We had to interview for the position of owner. Only once we had convinced ourselves and the previous owner that we were up to the task of restoring this house did the process move forward.

Edwin H. Ulrich House, "Kitchen"

A little research revealed that the house was designed in 1909 for Edwin H. Ulrich by prominent local architect, John W. McKecknie. Hmmm, maybe we could make the case for listing in the National Register. If we did that, we would qualify for Missouri’s Historic Tax Credit program. This project just got even more appealing.

Edwin H. Ulrich House, Dining Room windows

Less than a month later the adoption is complete. The house is ours. There is an odd calm, no internal voice screaming “Oh my, what have we done?!” At least not yet. Maybe that comes later.

Edwin H. Ulrich House, Living Room fireplace

On to the planning and paperwork stage!

Rosin Preservation associate Rachel Nugent and her husband Matt have embarked on an old house adventure.   Their new baby is over 100 years old. The previous owner started a rehab project over a decade ago, but recently decided to let someone else finish the job.  We are confident that they have the vision to finish the transformation.   I have asked Rachel – and Matt - to share their story as they navigate the travails of both rehabilitation and Missouri historic tax credits.   Stay tuned…..

I had the good fortune to spend a few days in New Orleans over spring break. It was a thrill to be somewhere that is completely unique and could not be mistaken for any place else. Everything about it screams New Orleans. This is the beauty of places that value their historic resources. Would New Orleans have the same appeal if the Vieux Carre Commission had not fought for to protect the historic character of the French Quarter? I am glad we don’t have to find out.

Thanks for checking out our new blog. We’re putting the finishing touches on several posts and will have them available for you soon.

In the meantime, feel free to explore the rest of our site, and come join us on Facebook.