Ever since I stepped foot in the gorgeous Victorian that houses my apartment, I was smitten with its historical charm. Ever since I moved in, I find myself wondering about its past. Who built this huge, beautiful home? Who grew up here? Who passed away here? Did anyone get married here? Who lived in the three quarters at the rear of the second floor? Who awoke to the sun spilling in through the windows of my bedroom - as I do each day? Did a young woman ever watch anxiously out the window for her beau's carriage or car to come down the brick road? Did anyone ever sit at a desk in my bedroom - writing or typing intimate letters or stories?
I have so many questions. It's the romantic history buff in me. I'm new to this area, so I'm not sure where to turn for answers. And some of those intimate questions, I'll probably never find the answers to. But a little digging around on the internet led me to finding the above image. It's a photo of the house (where my apartment is) circa 1898. Not much has changed. It looks like back then the house was painted several colors. Now it's all one shade. And now there's a retaining wall and many more trees around the yard. But it's remarkably unchanged. And the old-house lover in me is so thankful that it's been preserved so that I can walk upon the same hardwood floor, turn the same door knobs, and open the same windows as this home's residents did one hundred years ago.
Hopefully I can dig up some more history on this place. I'll let you know if I do. :)