How many of us, given the opportunity, have the knowledge and/or experience to literally build our family a new house?
Last week my brother Adam sent me the photo below with a question, “Does this house look familiar?”
It did. It is a current photo of the house my Dad (Charles) built in 1958, my childhood home for twelve years.
I write this blog post to honor Dad on the seventh anniversary of his death this week on May 9th.
The photo brought me many happy memories, not only about the building footprint, but also about the human interactions that occurred within the walls and beyond. Please indulge me while I share a few of them with you.
Dad standing with Kim in front of the house he built.
The dwelling that Charles built on Highland View Road, Knoxville, Tennessee was a modest house of six rooms plus a full unfinished basement that contained the HVAC, washer and dryer, and a one car garage. It was home to a young couple in their late twenties (Charles and Dorsey Lou), my brother Kim (four years younger than me, deceased), and myself. Kim and I shared a small room that contained “built-in to the wall” bunk beds with pull out draws underneath. The house was small, but it never felt cramped, at least, not for me.
from L to R: myself, Kim, Dorsey Lou, and Charles circa 1958, photo taken at my Aunt Billie's house
sketch of the footprint from my memory
Dad began construction on the house when I was five years old. For help, he hired a retired, skilled carpenter named Mr. Capelle, who had a thick German Dutch accent, and wore a Greek fisherman’s cap. He smoked a “Bent Billiard” pipe while he worked, and I have strong memories of the smell of pipe tobacco mixed with fresh sawdust. The inner walls of the house were lined with various hardwood planks of oak, poplar, ash, and walnut-each room having different tongue-in-groove paneling. Only the bathroom contained “dry wall”. The galley kitchen was just large enough for Dorsey to whip up three delicious meals a day for her boys (Dad included). Her two hands were her dishwasher. The small living room had a sofa and one chair; a black and white TV with rabbit ears antennae; and a wood-burning fireplace built from Tennessee marble. It was cozy.
The house sat on approximately five acres located in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. It faced North in a small patch of woods that contained mature oak and popular trees in front, and a fenced field of grass that gently sloped downward toward the railroad tracks of the Knoxville, Sevierville, and Eastern Railroad (the KS&E) to the South.
current photo
After the KS&E stopped running in 1961, my brother Kim and I had a wonderful time traveling and exploring the defunct railroad bed along our property and beyond. It became our “secret” passageway to other properties along the route. Our imaginations ran up and down the tracks much faster than the KS&E ever did.
A "quick draw" with my brother Kim in the back yard
As a young boy, I was allowed to roam the woods and ride my bike up and down the rural road. The neighborhood contained only about a dozen houses and the approximately same number of children often gathered at a common “sandlot” to play all manner of sports and imaginary games. We were a close, often ornery, bunch.
Here I am at the back door with my dog Ginger.
The house that Charles built was aesthetically warm, but the home that Charles and Dorsey Lou built was an even warmer, loving place. I would welcome an opportunity to return to that house to see how I would react to it now, and to see if the adage is correct, “You can never go home again”.
In Memoriam: Charles L. Woliver "Dad" (5/21/1927-5/9/2017)
CPW