Building Up and Tearing Down

In 1998, my husband and I, after a year of marriage, bought our first home.



Build by Geneva Steel to house its workers in 1943, during the height of World War II, this lovely home boasted three bedrooms with tiny closets, a small kitchen, a living room, and a bathroom.  At all of 950 square feet, for two students hoping to expand their family while finishing their undergraduate and graduate work, it felt spacious.

The home was a bit of a fixer and we set right to work.  Over the three years we lived there, we made the basement apartment legal by pouring another parking space and passing off various inspections, re-did part of the kitchen, added built-in bookcases and cabinets, put in a washer/dryer on the main floor, and re-did the landscaping.  I loved tending my three little rose bushes, planting my first garden, and seeing my tulips and daffodils bloom that first spring.

You know what else happened our first spring in that home?


My husband and I graduated from college and Lillian was born, all within a span of five days.  April 1999 was pretty epic for our family.

We kept working on our house as Lillian grew.

When she was two months old, we had some help from both of our parents pouring that parking space I mentioned.  As the concrete was drying, my father-in-law took cute little Lillian, who looked like this:


and brought her out to the corner of the concrete pad, where he gently placed her feet in the concrete.


After all that work, that house was OURS.





We continued to work on the house and our family grew.  My husband took a full-time two-year position at the MTC in Provo while we saved up for graduate school.  Lillian turned eighteen months old the same day Joey joined our family.

We had lots of fun moments at that house.






You think Lillian feels bad about tossing dirt on Joey?


But after three years and two kids, we felt like it was time to move on.  Lillian was two and Joey eight months old when we sold the house and moved down the street.

Notice the nicer windows and the pretty flowers?




In the last several years, the neighborhood we lived in has been slowly disappearing.  The hospital just north of the neighborhood has been buying up homes and then tearing them down, preparing to expand on the land remaining.

This past summer, the pace of tear-downs has been increasing and last week, it was time for our old home to be torn down.


After I picked up Lillian and Joey from school, we went over to survey the property.  The trees I planted twelve years ago are still standing and they've grown tall and strong.

And that little girl whose feet we planted in that concrete all those years ago?  She's grown tall and strong, too.



And so has the little brother she used to push in the doll stroller and throw dirt on.

Goodbye, old home.  Thanks for the memories.

Comments

How hard it must be to see that house torn down! What a lovely story you've told about it though. Such sweet memories.
Rachel Keppner said…
Oh, wow! We lived not far from you at the same time! (1000 West)

I love the older parts of town. It has changed so much over the years!

Goodbye, old house! :-(