Summer 1971

The family house I grew up in was built in the mid 1880’s.  It was located at the intersection of Hopkins Avenue and Garmisch Street across from Paepcke Park.  As a child, living across from the park was like having a much larger yard to play in.  I remember the elderly man who used to cut the grass every week on his riding lawn mower.  He would let the neighborhood kids ride in the trailer behind him as he worked, and was always willing to share his lunches which included lots of Ginger Snap cookies.  Life across from the park was always an adventure in itself.  That was until the late 1960’s when the “hippies” arrived and made the park their home.  Don’t get me wrong, these hippies were always friendly, and they used to smoke these really funny smelling cigarettes. That was how I remember them from my youth.

At that same time property values were starting to climb faster than the mountains around us, and life in downtown was ever changing.  With the new residents living in the park things started to disappear; toys and bicycles left out at night were rarely there the following morning.  One morning my father walked out to go to work only to find the family car missing.  Our neighbor who built a hotel next to our house had asked previously if we were willing to sell and up to this point my father had always resisted.  With the years passing by and the “guests” across the street in the park still there my father agreed to sell the property, but not the house.  So begins one of the most memorable events of my life…

My father found a nice piece of property on the west end of town.  It was a quiet neighborhood, understated and largely left alone from all the development in the valley.  It was a perfect setting to relocate the house; yes, relocate the house.  Our house was a two-story Victorian that I and many of the locals were convinced would never make the trip.  This was evident as there were many locals who turned out to watch the movers pick it up and drive it through town in a route that avoided as many power lines as possible.  Thomas House Movers were contracted to do the job as they had considerable experience moving houses of this type.  The house traveled east, past the Hotel Jerome, down the hill and west behind the hotel.  It then traversed the neighborhoods passing the final location by a block at one point.  The travel distance ended up being twice as long as the most direct route to drive there.  When the trip was over the house rested on a new foundation intact and in one piece, for the most part.  The exterior of the house looked as if it had been there all along.  As for the interior, furnishings and all looked good aside from the numerous cracks in the walls and ceilings.  The house was built back when slats of wood and plaster were used to make the interior walls.  This type of construction was very strong but did not flex very well during the move.  Within a few months the interior was restored and the house had settled in as had we.

Back at school the following fall the question of, “What did you do on your summer vacation?” just seemed too easy.  Little did I know, this would not be the last time this house would be moved. 

The house is no longer part of our family, but I still drive by it on occasion to see how it is doing and to show it to my kids.  But now, it sits 20 feet further to the west than where we left it.