On a dead-end street, blossoming cherry trees flank a small stone cottage, evoking a scene straight from “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” A brick path curves to the front door; a spring bubbles up and meanders down the bank beside the residence.
Evan and Sommer Keller have lived in this 1790s home on Fetrow Lane in Fairview Township for 13 years. Known as the Fetrow Farm, it originally served as a distillery, later as an orphanage and as a summer home for a family from New Cumberland.
When asked why they decided to purchase the home, Evan replied, “When we saw it, it was a charming little cottage…it was cool and old and whimsical.”
Not everything about living in a very old home is cool, however. The Kellers said that they had to upgrade the electrical wiring throughout the house and put in a new heating system. This work was made more difficult by the plaster made of horsehair, straw and mud that covered the walls.
And nothing in this home is level, plum or square.
The home had no insulation when the family first moved in. So, until they were able to insulate their home, the Kellers slept with a heating blanket.
Bob and Eileen Young can attest to these challenges. For 38 years, they lived in an 1857 Shipoke house once owned by Civil War Gen. Joseph Knipe. Every door in the home hung askew, and the attic door wouldn’t even close.
“It helps to be young, enthusiastic and able to use a hammer,” Eileen quipped.
Caretaker of History
Indeed, home improvement projects can prove extra challenging in old homes because no building codes existed at the time, so nothing is standard. In his 30 years of renovation experience, Dave Leaman of Harrisburg-based Renovations Company has found that each old house presents its own set of unique trials.
First of all, there’s the aforementioned lack of insulation in ceilings, walls and floors. Then there are the windows and doors that leak heat and the floors and ceilings that sag because of large spans between floor joists.
Also, much of what needs to be repaired or replaced in an old home, such as moldings, trim, doors and windows, doesn’t come stock. That means special orders or unique vendors, which equals money.
Because of the costly nature of owning an old home, Leaman said that people with “big dreams and no money” should enter into a purchase cautiously.
He added that, when considering a contractor, owners should make sure that the firm has experience working on vintage homes. The Youngs concur. Homeowners, they said, should find a contractor that is willing to do the often-laborious work necessary to maintain the historical integrity of the structure.
For those who take the plunge, living in an older home often involves the desire to retain its antiquity.
The Kellers, for instance, left exposed beams in their living room. They removed the horsehair and mud stucco from the brick in the upstairs to reveal beautiful stonework.
They also wanted to refurbish the upstairs flooring, but the downstairs ceiling was attached to the floor. So, they supported the ceiling beams, at great effort; removed the floorboards; re-planed the wide pine boards; epoxied the holes; created new tongue and grooves; and reinstalled the floor.
It took two years.
However, they couldn’t keep all of the house’s aged appeal. Sometimes, practicality had to win out. For instance, they installed drywall throughout the house to run new electrical wires.
After the devastating 1972 flood, the Youngs felt strongly about keeping their Shipoke home’s original floors.
So, instead of taking the easier option of ripping them out, they cleaned them up themselves—with toothbrushes. After a project to move the furnace from the basement to the third floor destroyed some 13-inch molding, they took the extra step to have moldings reproduced by the former Snyder Lumber Mill in Harrisburg,
Eileen Young said that living in an old home made them feel like they were “caretakers of history,” a responsibility that they took seriously.
Extra Effort
Is all of this effort worth it?
Absolutely, according to the Kellers.
“It was a hobby and a joy and a love before we had kids,” said Sommer. “We didn’t go to sports games or shopping. We’d stay up all night and work on the house. We had a blast.”
It’s evident that folks live in these homes because of the special feeling it invokes.
“I love this house every time I visit something new,” said Evan Keller. “It makes you love the things that are old.”
The family has come to appreciate the house’s quirkiness—its soul. For instance, there is something extraordinary about the sound of a rainstorm on a tin roof, the Kellers said.
“When you’re in a rainstorm and hear the rain on the metal roof, you think people have basically been doing this for 200 years,” said Evan.
The Youngs echo those sentiments, saying that an old house is like living in history and that “there is always something to see,” referring to the woodwork and moldings in the home.
These houses feel distinct. The low, sagging ceilings, natural stone and wooden beams bring the past into the present. Homeowners are enveloped in history every time they walk down the uneven walkway and up the tilting steps through the crooked front door.
In 2006, Theresa Fazzolari was a returning student completing her bachelor’s degree in social work at Temple University in Harrisburg. She was assigned to identify a community need and come up with a way to address it.