A series celebrating The Boston Preservation Alliance’s Preservation Achievement Award winners; used across all branding and marketing.

A few weeks ago, Matthew Dickey sent me a picture of Charlie’s Sandwich Shoppe in Boston (on left), told me that it was in the Green Book and left me to it. I am ashamed to say that I didn’t know what The Green Book was, despite the fact that it is not obscure at all (and the film won many Oscars in 2019 including best picture). My privilege as a white woman meant that I was surprised that these travel guidebooks even existed (used by 2 million people by 1962), blind to the dangers that black people encountered while traveling in the Jim Crow era and the need and desire to travel despite those dangers. This discrimination and violence hasn’t gone away even though the Green Book has.

I didn’t illustrate this building at the time because I didn’t want to share a history that is so obviously not mine. But my ignorance is mine, as is my ability to seek out and learn more about it...a fact that is at the forefront of my mind this past week because of the realities of racial discrimination that are happening right now, and have been forever.

My privilege continues to smack me in the face. I’m learning, I’m continuing to learn and I’m grateful that I can learn from historians like Candacy Taylor who has been researching the Green Book since 2013 and wrote the book, “Overground Railroad: The Green Book and The Roots of Black Travel in America” (one aspect of her multidisciplinary project), which I look forward to reading when it comes in the mail.

Back to the building: this is Charlie’s Sandwich Shoppe in Boston, listed in the 1947 Green Book. It was opened in 1927 by Charlie Poulos who shortly after partnered with Christi Manjourides and was run by the Manjourides family until 2014 (because all four siblings who ran the restaurant were in their 70’s and ready to retire).

Arthur Manjourides gave an interview to Christopher Hughes of Boston Magazine (linked on my website in bio); it’s a sweet interview and worth a quick read, but here is a quote: “We [served] mostly black entertainers like Duke Ellington and Sammy Davis Jr. This was all the way up until the ‘60s. Most hotels and restaurants would not serve black people. It was a very prejudiced town. I’d say 99 percent of our customers were black. Because we served the black community, a lot of white people wouldn’t come in. In the ‘70s, one of our regular customers had a sister come into town and she wouldn’t step into the place because we served black people. That’s not that long ago.”

Sources:

Boston Magazine, Arthur Manjourides Reminisces About Charlie’s Sandwich Shoppe

Cultural Historian Candacy Taylor, website

Amazon, “Overground Railroad: The Green Book and The Roots of Black Travel in America”

Wikipedia, Charlie’s Sandwich Shoppe

The National Herald, The Greek Connection to the Oscar Winning The Green Book

This was my parents first house 34 years ago. They bought it in 1986 as the cheapest house on the street. It was a mess—the windows were painted closed and the previous owners had smoked inside and used a kerosene heater and I’m pretty sure the memory of the inside of the oven is burned into my mom’s brain. But it was a well-designed house: three bedrooms all with built-in closets, good cross-ventilation, a deep porch (many family photos on that porch as you can see).

My mom remembers it as their “learning house” because they were able to get experience doing repairs and projects. They fixed the sill and roof where an air conditioner had leaked, added a half-bath (it was on the back porch, so they had to turn it off in the winter so the pipes wouldn’t freeze), putting in a woodstove, and freed and repaired all the windows. It hadn’t been updated except for the kitchen, but even that was old so there were many projects.

Zillow says it was built in 1925. It’s “bungaloid”, not technically a bungalow cause it has more than barely a second floor. In fact, the second floor has more square footage than the first floor because the dormers stick out over the front and back porches. There is also a full attic! You would never know by looking at it! It’s like the Weasley’s tent.

This house was owned and renovated by our friends from the early 90’s-2004 and it’s one of those houses I will always love even though they haven’t lived there in over a decade...I have a real soft spot for houses from my childhood [see Ballentine House].

It was built in 1901 and operated as a fanning mill before it was a house. A fanning mill! (because I certainly didn’t know) is a machine that separates grains from weed seeds/chaff and there was a Muncy manufacturer with national distribution that made them: Sprout, Waldron & Co. (now a division of Andritz).

It was originally only half its current symmetrical facade with just the door and two bays on the right; the section on the left was added later. There was also a back section that was removed.

Our friends put a lot of care into it inside and out (including stripping and repainting the ENTIRE exterior themselves!). I really loved sitting on the GIANT radiators while watching tv and the ridiculously opulent cash register in the front hall with candy in the drawer. What’s amazing about drawing buildings is that I notice things that I NEVER noticed before, like the fact that the windows aren’t symmetrical at all!

Sources:

Fanning Mill Info: Farm Collector, Fanning Mill

Background on Ellen Sprout and Maggie Waldron (mother and daughter)

This house is a Starlight model Sears kit home, and it’s one of only two known Sears homes in Boston (the other one is a Tudor-style Willard). Many Sears homes have been altered beyond recognition over the past century or so, but this one is pretty obvious. Also it’s been “authenticated”, which means someone has done research into legal records, building plans, or physical clues like stamped lumber (a guide for the homeowner on how to put things together).

The Starlight was very popular, specifically this version with the hipped dormer. 1,300 of them had been sold by 1928 (a big jump from 200 in 1920), which makes this house, built in 1925, just about as unremarkable as it gets. Doesn’t mean it’s not cute though.

Starlights came standard with a front porch to complete the bungalow look; this one (and others that I’ve seen while poking around) has been closed in, probably to add a few extra interior square feet (cause they are not big!)

Sources/more information:

I’m pretty grateful for the extensive research that other people have done because it made finding information so very easy.

A list of Sears homes in Massachusetts: Kit House Hunters, Sears Homes of Massachusetts

Starlight Background: Sears Homes, Let’s Travel Back Through Time to See Some Sears Starlights

I enjoyed listening to this podcast years ago: 99% Invisible, The House That Came in the Mail

The Sodom Schoolhouse was listed on the National Register in 1974 (number 74001799) partly because the octagonal shape is very unique for the region. The town (which no longer exists) and schoolhouse were named in honor of local tavern owner and town official, Lot Carson (per the biblical passage). He donated much of the building materials for the school.

It hasn’t been in use since 1915, but it was restored by the WPA starting in 1935, and completed in 1961 by the Junior Historians Club at Milton High School. In 1968, it became the property of the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission.

There are local legends that claim it was built in the 1770’s as a fort, or from 1812-1817 when construction was interrupted by the War of 1812, but the generally accepted date is 1835 when a survey was made for school use (much less exciting). It was also used as a Methodist church until 1858.

Sources:

National Register Application PDF

Society of Architectural Historians, Archipedia, Sodom Schoolhouse

Wikipedia, Sodom Schoolhouse

This diminutive little modern house sits sandwiched between a car dealership and a creek, which regularly floods. Despite that, it is always neat and taken care of. In all four Google Maps photos from 2008, 2012, 2013, 2018 it is always the same, with the trimmed shrubs out front and the white truck parked next to the white mailbox.

It took me a bit even to find the address as it sits near new business development but I was able to find that it was built in 1968. For the Muncy area where colonial revivals and colonial-esque ranches abound, it stands out (as much as it can at 1,056 sq. ft.) in a good way. Very much like how the Gropius’ used traditional building materials in unique ways in their home, this home uses familiar materials (white clapboards and the stone in that massive chimney) that are evocative of the old farmhouses and buildings that are scattered throughout the surrounding landscape.

Lustron houses were a post-war pre-fab solution to the housing shortage. They were advertised as having less maintenance due to the fact that nearly the whole thing was made of metal (inside and out). There were three models to choose from and this one, the Westchester, was the most popular. All the house parts would arrive as a kit—image 4 is of all the components laid out, which the order muppet in me just loves. The zig-zag drain spout near the front door is one of the uniquely-Lustron features, as are the square exterior panels.

This house is the only Lustron in Boston (though there is also one in Brookline) and was built by Vern M. Oech in 1948, who sold it to Robert and Helen Hardy shortly after. It was damaged by a fire in September of 2018 and as of the latest Google Maps shot in July 2019, it remains boarded up.

I was inspired to read about Lustron houses earlier this month after @sarahmarsom posted her v. cute mini-quilt of one.

Sources:

Society of Architectural Historians

Boston Globe, West Roxbury House Catches Fire Overnight

Wikipedia, Lustron House

Built around 1791 as a log structure by William and Mary McCarty, the McCarty House is considered the oldest house in Muncy. William, along with his brother and cousins were Muncy’s founding fathers; they first laid out plots in 1797.

Originally the town was named “Pennsborough”, in honor of William Penn (the McCartys came from Quaker stock), but it was changed in 1827 to Muncy to pay credit to the tribe of Lenape people, the Monseys, who first lived in this area and supposedly because people thought the name “Pennsborough” was “too flat and long.”

In recent history (in my memory), it’s been a restaurant and a florist but now it’s empty as far as I’ve been able to find.

sources:

https://muncyhistoricalsociety.wordpress.com/2011/10/04/historic-homes-tour/

https://www.muncyhistoricalsociety.org/walking-tours/muncy-borough-walking-tour/

https://muncyboro.org/information/history/

Part of what I’ve loved most about this project is talking to people about their homes and the history that they share with me. This information tends to be so much richer than what I can find on my own poking around online. This is the Benjamin Potts house, and since it’s not the “oldest” or “most important” or whatever, there were very little details I could find. But the current owner, who digs the history as much as I do, gave me so much fun information.

It was built in 1837, based on the architectural details of the house— “Greek Key”classical cornice, fluted columns and capitals on the front door, cast iron lintels above the front windows with classical elements. Benjamin Potts was Muncy’s cabinet maker though he is best known for his skill as a doorway maker. He made doorways for homes in Muncy and locally (besides this house, one of them lives across the street) and may have shipped some to Washington DC and Georgetown. His workshop still sits next door on the right side and is now a real estate office.

The house is a cross between Greek Revival (because of the detailing and when it was built) and Federal (because of the proportions and that elegant fan-light above the door).

I liked this story about the roof that originally hung over the front door. There is an old wives tale that says it was removed because the front wall couldn’t hold it up, but it was actually taken down by the Chase’s who owned the building in the 1940’s in order to rebuild it. They found out too late that there was an ordinance that prohibited anything from hanging over the sidewalk and that the roof had been grandfathered in; now that they had taken it down, they weren’t allowed to put it back up. You can still see the shadow of the roof above the door and the current owner purchased the large ornate cast iron brackets that originally held it up so they could stay with the house.

I grew up going to the Country Store in Pennsdale down the road from the Friends Meeting House. The butchers behind the counter would hand me a stick of bologna to keep me occupied while my mom ordered cuts of meat and to this day, their hot dogs are my absolute favorite.

It was built in 1839 and purchased in 1905 by John Springman who started a general store. After WWII, the store was also the town Post Office until 1985. It’s still run by the Springman’s today (4 generations later!).

I decided to illustrate the older porch (because I like it and it’s an illustration so I can do that) which has been updated as you can see from the Google Maps screenshots.

Sources:

https://www.countrystoremeats.com/about-us.aspx
https://old.post-gazette.com/columnists/20031116rubin1116fnp9.asp

The Pennsdale Friends Quaker Meeting House is the longest continuing place of worship in Lycoming County since it was built in 1799. In 2014, it underwent an almost-year-long restoration which included replastering the interior (which itself took two months), sanding and refinishing the original floors (for the first time ever), painting the exterior woodwork, reinforcing some of the beams in the attic, and replacing three windows.

Sources:

https://www.quakercloud.org/cloud/pennsdale-friends-meeting/pages/meeting-house

http://www.muncyluminary.com/page/content.detail/id/538739/An-updated-look-for-candlelight-service-at-Quaker-Meeting-House.html?nav=5007

http://quakermeetinghistory.com/content/pennsdale-meeting

Samuel Wallis, of Muncy Farms, was a busy guy (he worked as a surveyor and was all over the place) who didn’t actually manage his farm and land; he delegated that job to his brother, John Wallis. Samuel had the stone portion of this house built for John in 1788. It grew sideways: the middle section was built in 1860 and the newest section, furthest to the right was built in 1937. There are definite similarities between this 1937 addition and the 1927 addition to the Muncy Farms Main House, specifically the wall dormers that break the roofline, on the back of this house, and the color scheme. The Brocks owned both houses and I assume would have carried out both renovations so it makes sense that they are similar. You can also clearly see the evolution of this house over time.

Supposedly, there are many stairs in this house and only two bathrooms, both on the second floor.

Built in 1769 by Samuel Wallis, the Muncy Farms Main House holds the title of the oldest house in Lycoming County because it wasn’t burned by allied British Loyalists and Native Americans in the Big Runaway of 1778 during the American Revolution. (In 1946, when the Archives of the British Revolution were opened, it was revealed that Samuel Wallis was communicating very closely with Major John André—head of the British Army’s Secret Service in America—so it is likely that the British gave orders to leave his house alone.)

The middle section is the oldest (1769) and was originally composed of four rooms. The stone section on the left was added in 1806. A Victorian wing was added in the 1800’s, but that was taken down in a big 1926 remodel, which also included adding the whole section on the right as well as a new furnace, plumbing, and electricity.)

A much oversimplified chronology:

1769—built by Samuel Wallis, who grows original 200 acres to 7,600

1778—not burned in Big Runaway because Samuel Wallis’ connections to British

1798—Samuel Wallis dies in debt because he overextended himself and property goes to the Girard Bank in Philadelphia.

1803—Henry Drinker (a land prospector) buys the property from the bank and sells it three months later to Robert Coleman (an iron furnace millionaire).

1806—Robert Coleman gifts the property and to his daughter, Elizabeth Coleman Hall as a wedding gift; the property stays in the Coleman family.

> William Coleman Hall (goes bankrupt raising, racing and betting on horses)

> Robert Coleman Hall Brock (Will’s cousin, pays debts and takes over property)

> son, Henry Brock inherits property

1923—Henry Brock is involved in a hit-and-run, killing three people and becomes first person to be convicted of vehicular manslaughter. (Very Gatsby-eque as there were two other people in the car with him and it was said that he was too drunk to have driven the car. However, he was the only person there when they found the car and he pled guilty.) While in jail, he sets up workshops to help inmates develop skills.

1926—Henry Brock is pardoned after three years of his 6-10 year sentence.

1926—Henry Brock and his new wife, Margaret (Burgwin) Brock, do extensive remodel to house

1940—Henry and Margaret Brock agree to take in British children during Germany’s bombing of England. The four Barlow children arrive just after Henry Brock passes away unexpectedly.

1961—Mrs. Brock passes away and the Barlows inherit the farm.

1972—Agnes flood, three feet of water in first floor.

I was so grateful for this video, where Malcom Barlow talks about his history, the history of the house and people who’ve lived in it and taken care of it; and that he let me come over and take pictures because I couldn’t find any online from the angle I wanted to illustrate.

Other sources:

Muncy Luminary, The oldest house in Lycoming County unfolds a story to behold

Muncy Historical Society, Celebrating 250 Years of Muncy Farms

Sun Gazette, Farmhouse is Oldest in Lycoming County

With that flat, overhanging white roof, this house feels a bit like the Flansburgh House, though this one was built in 1953, a decade earlier. Doing this project, I’m drawn to fun colors and this mint green perched up on the hill was just the ticket.

While the lumber industry was fading in Williamsport, the city of Dorchester was growing super fast. It had been a rural retreat for Boston’s wealthy, but between 1870 (when it was annexed to Boston) and 1920, it experienced a huge influx of working-class people, made possible by easy transportation to and from Boston via the streetcar. The triple-decker, now so ubiquitous in New England especially, was the primary building type constructed to house this new population.

This particular triple-decker was built between 1905-1910 (the real estate listings disagree) and that is absolutely the only history I could find on it. But isn’t it amazing in its yellow with that green awning up on the third floor and the stone foundation? You can also see the Queen Anne influence here in the three-story tower (similar to the Williamsport Queen Anne).

Fun facts: I apparently only draw yellow houses in Dorchester; it’s also the THIRD house I’ve illustrated on streets named “Pleasant”.

Thank you to Wikipedia for sponsoring this post:

Wikipedia: Dorchester, Boston
Wikipedia: Three-decker (house)

When this Queen Anne was built in 1895 the lumber industry was in decline; wealthier families were choosing to build homes in the new Grampian neighborhood away from Millionaire’s Row and worker’s housing. This was a summer home (possibly, I hope) built by lumber dealer Brooks Reese Sr. (this area was much more rural than it is today); they also had a mansion on Millionaire’s Row. The deep porch was built facing the intersection because that is where the trolly turned and it would give the riders a nice view of the grand home; the city bus still follows this same route. The stone was quarried upstream in Liberty and traveled down the frozen winter river on sleds.

Homeowners always have the best information and I got most of the history from Kat (@sweethomevictorian on instagram), who has been lovingly restoring this purple lady since 2017.

The house was also included in a historic structures survey conducted in 2015, which can be found here.

And I found the historical photos here.

Long Williamsport History Lesson for you: Williamsport is known for its Queen Anne and Italianate Victorians. The high school mascot is “The Millionaires” because Williamsport was once a boom town—the “Lumber Capital of the World”—and had more millionaires per capita than any other city in the country. These millionaires, wanting to show off their new-gotten wealth, built grand and ostentatious mansions that line “Millionaire’s Row” on West Fourth Street including this one, the Peter Herdic House.

Herdic was a lumber baron (and mayor, hotel and real estate owner, inventor, developer and philanthropist...all around v. busy guy) who built this Italian Villa Style home in 1854-55. The pink is original according to a paint analysis. The grounds were originally much bigger and included two tennis courts and a carriage house. When Herdic went bankrupt in the panic of 1878, he sold off lots carved out from the grounds.

The thing that made Williamsport’s output so far and above others and made the people like Peter Herdic so rich, was the creation of a “boom” or fence in the river that held back logs waiting to be milled—up to 300 million feet of lumber (where a typical sawmill could only process 100,000 feet a WEEK.. This meant that winters (where the river froze over and logs couldn’t be sent downriver) and a mill’s current capacity wasn’t an issue. There was always a ready supply waiting for the mills to mill so the owners of those mills became very wealthy very quickly.

Eventually, as is the fate of every virgin forest in America, the mountains and hills surrounding Williamsport were stripped of their massive forests and the industry suffered. This decline was aided by the river, which, without the forests tempering rainfalls, became more volatile and kept flooding (this is particularly galling to me as a levee was built in the 1950’s to end the flooding, effectively cutting off the city from the river). A flood in 1889 washed away 300 million feet of lumber and the sawmills of Williamsport were never able to recover their corner on the market.

As the wealth and industry disappeared, the houses along Millionaire’s Row fell into deep disrepair—too big and expensive to maintain. The Herdic House was no exception: suffering a fire (which left the roof open for years), foreclosure (no doubt aided by the lack of roof), and a massive commercial addition (where the front bay window and twin porches were removed). Thankfully, it was deemed important enough to save and in 1979, 100 years after it’s heyday, restoration work began. In 1984, it was sold to two sisters who opened a restaurant, which is still in operation today.

I learned a ton reading this article.

A whole lot of information about the renovation here.

Other Sources: Williamsport Millionaires Row; West Fourth Street Story

This mid-century house is just up the road from my childhood home. It’s hidden behind tall pine trees that used to be a Christmas tree farm (there is a loading dock along the road that you can find if you are watchful) and was a corn field before that. It’s long and low, shaded by the trees and deep eaves.

When we were little, my sister and I would go up to visit and have tea with the owner, Mrs. Ballentine, and looking back I realize that it was an incredible mid-century home. There was pristine wall-to-wall green shag carpet, huge ceramic lamps with drum shades, floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto a wide patio, and a tropical paradise-themed basement that to this day, is probably one of the coolest spaces I’ve ever been in. I didn’t care a fig for style when I was 7 as I was there for the tea, cookies, and stories Mrs. Ballentine would tell us of her travels around the world.

I was so excited to get some of the house’s history from her son and from my mom (who would also visit for tea and cookies). It was built in 1956 after Mrs. Ballentine saw a design she liked in a magazine for a house in Oregon. Supposedly, when they got the plans, none of the systems (plumbing, electricity) matched up correctly, so she wrote to the federal government for a bulletin to learn how to fix it.

At the time, she and her husband were renting an old farmhouse (which I’m illustrating soon!) after tiring of living in Williamsport and she convinced him to move to the country. Instead of cruising through available real estate, Dr. Ballentine, remembering an incredible view he saw while visiting a friend when he was a teenager, flew around in a Piper Cub (that they shared with another couple, what??) with his wife until they found it, then they figured out how to get there by car. As luck would have it, the farm was coming up for sale so they could buy the land.

A short distance from Boston, Lincoln, MA is known for its modernist homes, specifically the homes modernist designers built for themselves. The most notable house is that of Walter Gropius, the founder of the Bauhaus, which is open as a museum through Historic New England (and there’s an app for the house!) I decided to illustrate the Flansburgh house because I wanted to learn more about a (slightly) less well-known home.

Built in 1963 by Earl Flansburgh, a Boston architect, and his wife Polly, founder of Boston by Foot, for their family, it was designed to sit comfortably on it’s site—to fit in with the land and not disturb it overly much. Three things I especially love:

• the bright yellow panels open to aid in air flow throughout the house and that they are bright yellow.

• the red brick driveway blending into the pine needles

• how at home it looks among the tall trees

Really good interior photos here.

My main source: http://modernmass.com/a-visit-to-the-iconic-flansburgh-house/

Built in 1840 and renovated to its current fanciful Queen Ann/Tudor mash up in 1878 by Charles Luce, the Sunflower Castle was home to artists Gertrude Beals Bourne and her husband Frank Bourne from 1904 to 1962. The house gets its name from the carved sunflower on the exterior and from the painting “Artist’s Studio: Sunflower Castle” by Gertrude painted around 1910.

The artist’s homes that I’ve been in are some of the most personal, cultivated spaces—developed over time and with intention. You can’t pick them out of a catalog or label them as any specific design trend because they don’t align to any trend; these homes are reflections of the people that live in them. The Eames’ house in the Pacific Palisades, Carl and Karin Larsson’s Lilla Hyttnäs in Sweden, homes of dear artist friends, and the image we have from Gertrude Beals Bourne’s painting are all unique, personal expressions of “home”.

See more interior shots from the ~2012 real estate listing here.

A bit more history of the house and area here.

More about Gertrude Beals Bourne painting here.

Here is a funky house from Williamsport, PA. To my untrained eye, it’s a mix of Le Corbusier modern (with it’s clean white walls) and art deco (that glass block curved entrance), which really stands out in a city dominated by victorians. I’m on the search for more info, but I do know that it was built in 1949 and that the “D” on the chimney has remained even though it doesn’t stand for the current owner’s (of nearly two decades) last name...I like that they kept it though because it’s a bit of history.

I live only a few miles up the road from this house and I’ve literally never noticed it until it went up for sale recently. According to the real estate listing, the property has been in the same family since the time of William Penn, which is rather glamorous to contemplate. The house itself was built in 1810. You can see how it’s simpler compared to the Long Square Farm house (built even earlier in 1801), especially in its more boxy, solid proportions—it is a deep house!

Looking through the listing, it doesn’t seem like the house has been updated much other than an addition that includes a couple bathrooms. Other than the fact that it’s a bit sad looking—especially those missing attic windows—I can appreciate its un-updated-ness (not a word).

Real-estate listing with interior shots.

I just liked this one—couldn’t find any other information other than it was built in 1845. It’s a multi-address home so maybe it used to be a single address and then was split up (which is why the address search yields nothing but real estate listings)? Or maybe it was always a multi-family home.

In any case, I like the colors it has sported over the past few years. Currently blue with brown around back; previously green with light pink doors. It wears color well.

We would drive by this farmhouse and the red outbuildings with jig-saw detailing nearly every afternoon when my mom picked my sister and me up from elementary school and I remember loving the split-rail fence and pond across the road from the house. It was built in 1801 and is actually called Long Square Farm according to this page, but my parents and our friends call it Koch Farm. In the 70’s or 80’s it underwent an massive restoration, but it has been vacant for much of my life. Last year we actually got to walk through it because it was purchased by farming friends of my mom.

I love the old stone farmhouses scattered around the Pennsylvania farmland where I grew up.

Lots of interior pictures here.

The unique gambrel roof and street-facing gable made this house stick out while I was roaming around on google maps. Part of its appeal is that tall greenery-covered fence hiding the front from the street. This article had a lot of useful information about the long line of owners starting with the Kettell family in 1808.

The oldest portion, a “half house”, was built by Thomas Higgins in 1730. Other than the National Parks Service (and the Cape Cod National Seashore, which operates the property now), it’s only been owned by two different families: Higgens, Atwood, and then back to Higgins:

1730—Built by Higgens, Thomas
1805—Sold to Atwood, Thomas, Sr. (same name, huh!)
1873—last occupied, when Atwood, Thomas, Jr. (popular name) died
1919—“Acquired”/inherited? by Higgens, George

George, a Brookline resident, did a massive restoration on the house from 1919 to 1961 when he donated the whole property to the National Park Service when the Cape Cod National Seashore was created. He also built a slew of outbuildings to create a “colonial farmstead” and kept a journal about his experience.

I love how drawing a building helps you to see details you wouldn’t have picked up on, like the fact that the windows on either side of the door aren’t symmetrical, not in their horizontal placement, nor vertical. And that the door isn’t centered under the chimney. Maybe this is due to the fact that it wasn’t built all at once. I chose to illustrate it from the side because I enjoyed the different siding textures—so very Cape Cod. I also chose to illustrate it with more of the landscaping from the HABS 1959 picture because it looks cared for.

links!
NPS page on George Higgins
Wikipedia of course
Cape Cod Times article

Hatch House sits hidden behind sandy hills and trees overlooking the bay, a 15 minute drive down a potholed, single-lane road surrounded by miles of Cape Cod’s National Seashore. Designed by modernist architect Jack Hall in 1961, it’s constructed of cubes connected with outdoor wood decks. It was built for Robert (an editor) and Ruth (a painter) Hatch as a summer cottage and was occupied by their family until 2008 when ownership was reverted to the National Parks Service. Since 2013, it has been operated as an artist and scholar residency by Cape Cod Modern House Trust, and you can actually stay there to help support their work.

Here is where I got my info and the extra images:

Cape Cod Modern House Trust, Hatch House
Remodelista: The Outermost House: Modest Modernism in Wellfleet
National Parks Service: National Register

I discovered this house while cruising around on Google Maps looking for another yellow house on Pleasant Street (so many yellow houses that I like!). It stood out like a sore thumb among it’s triple-decker neighbors. It was built in 1804 and was the long-time home of Anna Clapp Harris Smith (+Huntington?? Sidenote: I’ve seen lots of different last name combinations, but her obituary [found here] referred to her as Mrs. Huntington Smith). She is best known for founding the Animal Rescue League of Boston.

In 2009, the house was the lucky subject of Historic Boston project to restore/stabilize the exterior structure, and in 2012, it was purchased by Stacey Cordeiro who kept a blog for a few years documenting her renovation along with some history and lots of pictures that I’ve enjoyed perusing.

Formerly (and honestly still) known as the Christian Science Sunday School, this building was designed by Araldo Cossutta (who was partners with I. M. Pei) in 1971. It is considered a Brutalist building because of its use of exposed concrete, bulky massing, and when it was built.

Brutalism is generally disliked (loathed?) for being cold and inhuman and hopelessly dated, and I shared that point of view until fairly recently. However, I've been trying to learn more about it to better understand the nuanced story. 

The Reflection Hall, along with the Colonnade and Administrative buildings (all designed by Cossutta), is a bit unique among other Brutalist buildings, because it has been properly maintained and cared for. Often, because of their negative reputation, these buildings are neglected, which only perpetuates the problem. I liked this quote from this article:

"Christian Science Church Center...shows how, with proper care and stewardship, these buildings can be wonderful participants in an active urban setting."

Here are some good resources I've been enjoying:

99% Invisible Podcast—The Smell of Concrete After Rain

McMansion Hell—The Brutalism Post, Part One: Introduction

McMansion Hell—The Brutalism Post, Part Two: What Brutalism is Not

McMansion Hell—The Brutalism Three, Part Three: What is Brutalism? Act 1, Scene 1: The Young Smithsons

I found this house via the Tiny Stories series over on the Boston Preservation Alliance blog and decided to draw it because of all the fun details and colors.

George Milliken was an inventor credited with advancing the technology of the telegraph (and hiring a young Thomas Edison). He commissioned this design from John H. Besarick, a prominent architect in the late 1800’s. It is because this house is connected to two notable people, plus the fact that the exterior remains (mostly) unchanged (looking at you first floor windows) that it was granted landmark status in 2004/2005ish.

It’s a combo of Queen Ann (fish-scale shingles, irregular footprint), and Stick Style (horizontal and vertical boards pretending to be framing members, exposed rafter tails, curved porch braces) and is an early example of Besarick’s work.

I’ve included some images that were pulled from the George Milliken House Study Report, which is where I found all this info.

FYI, by donating to the Boston Preservation Alliance during the month of May (Preservation Month!), you’re entered into raffle to win a print of this illustration.

George Milliken House Study Report

History
This house was built in 1900 as a multi-family dwelling (income-producing) on land that used to be part of the Bartlett farm. It’s officially classified as a Colonial Revival (dentiled [like little teeth] cornice, verandah, belt course) slash Queen Anne (shingled gable area, 2-story bay, oriel [third floor window]).

Usually I would include my source PDF, but I live here, so I’m not gonna!

This house is the subject of one of my favorite books of all time: Martha Stewart’s New Old House, which chronicles the restoration of an old Federal-style house in CT. It was published in 1992 and features sponge-painted stencils and Martha dressed all in white visiting the job site. Kidding aside—it is a beautiful book and I go back to it all the time just to look at the pictures.

History to come once I dig my book out of its moving box.

This lavender delight was on my daily commute to work in Chicago. Newly renovated, I really appreciate their choice of color, when many people (including myself sometimes) choose neutrals or blues. It is a warm and bright purple without being too garish. It looks especially perfect on this Queen Anne, which was made for ornament and fanciness.

It is the Charleston Single House that helped crystalize my love for historic architecture, especially vernacular homes. Thought and ingenuity, born from necessity and physical location created this particular form. Dictated by the hot, humid, and wet climate, a single house has a main hall with doors on either end that can be opened to bring a breeze through; it is a single room deep (hence the name) to aid air flow, but also because of the narrow Charleston lots; the long porches provide shade and protection from the elements so that windows and doors can be left open; the street facing door isn’t actually a front door at all, but a door onto the porch.