I was driving a potential buyer to an appointment one afternoon many years ago when he asked to stop at this house and ask the owner if he or she would sell it. I said that is not how it is done. He insisted so we got out of my car, entered the yard, knocked on the door, and introduced ourselves.
I had a "run-in" with the elderly woman owner a couple years prior when she told me I could not park in the public space in the street. I would see her from time to time sweeping the sidewalk as her house seemed to look as if it might fall down. I was surprised that the woman was so friendly that day - friendly to the extent she did not threaten me with her broom that is. She told us the house was not for sale but then retold her life story over the next forty-five to sixty minutes. It was fascinating to hear the stories of how the Island of Key West had changed. She later passed away without having a will. Her son later tried to sell the house and reap the forturne he thought he had coming. He died and his widow tried to reap it. The house was priced too high and went through several real estate companies and many refused offers before it was sold.
I took photos of the house and wrote about it in my blog. The house appears much larger than it actually is.
I dug through my old shoe box and found photos I took of the master bedroom where there was a broken chair on one side and a table with a wash basin and slop jar. There was a bathroom adjacent. I really don't think the slop jar was for show.
The house was taken apart and put back together bit by bit. The city hovered over the renovation making sure every dollar that could be spent was spent. And more.
I will never forget the old lady telling me I could not park my car on a public street. I wonder what she would think about her lifelong home.
The new owners purchased the smaller homes on either side and renovated those as well. They are in the final phase of renovating a large house on the opposite side of the street.
3 comments:
Gary, I think I can add a little more to this home and "eccentric" lady (another KW character) that lived in the home:
About 10ish years ago, my wife and I were walking back from lunch at El Siboney's and passed the home as we were heading back to our B&B. The elder lady was on the porch, she ran to the fence as we were passing and began yelling at us "My Home Ain't For Sale" repeatedly. When she finally calmed down, she stated the following entertaining items:
She hated the damn cattle cars (tourist trolleys) that stopped in front of her house all the time. Not saying it didn't happen but I never saw a Trolley stop at her house.
She knew and HATED Ernest Hemingway, she said he was nothing more than a "drunk" and "womanizer". I thought to myself (without saying to her), this is an establish historical fact.
House history: She inherited the home from her parents after they passed away in the 50's (I thought see said). I honestly don't think one single thing was done maintenance wise to the home while she owned. She said her father bought another home (next door as I remember) and attached the two together in the 30's. If you look at the photo before restoration, you can see the seam of the two attached at the 4th right side outside column as facing the home from Southard St.
Johnny, Your right about hating the tourists and trolley cars. She told us that as well. And you are correct about attaching the two houses together. You can see that in the photos.
I will write another blog about an equally eccentric older woman in the next couple of days. Our weather works wonders on keeping women alive. For a long time.
Gary
Gary, I had the great opportunity to meet and speak at length w Mrs A. It was about 2006, I was walking the island, I had just bought a property four years prior and wanted to explore the island. I took different side streets, ended up at Mrs A’s house. I looked at it in awe, though needing a rehab, it was still gorgeous. She was on her stoop sweeping w her famous broom, and she noticed me staring at her home. We made small talk, and she invited me into her porch, and further to her kitchen/ living room. She shared w me her relatives who started, governed our city. She did not hold back one bit on something that irked her, or couldn’t believe would be allowed in “her” city. The large house that sits Katy cornered to hers had a few rainbow flags flying w pride and courage. She pointed at them w crooked fingers and looked me in the eye, “those people are no good, they will all BURN IN HELL. Well that was my chance meeting w her. I think she loves the gorgeous change to her beloved home.
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