Only Mortar and Logs? Think Again
A few weeks ago, I attended a wedding outside of Washington, DC where I met a couple who’d recently purchased a house nestled amidst the rolling hills of northern Virginia. The original house was a one room log cabin built circa 1860. Since then several additions have been added to the historical dwelling. As my new friends shared photos of their home, I found myself drawn into the story. Think about it. In 1860, the Civil War was looming, Abraham Lincoln was elected the next President of the United States, and the idea that mail and newspapers could be delivered long distance came to fruition via the Pony Express.
I couldn’t help but wonder about the thread of titleholders who’ve owned this home spanning 161 years. Presumably, the original owners might have lived through the thick of homegrown unrest and divisiveness. Battlefields of bloodshed and rift might have occurred on adjacent lands or even on their own land. Were they farmers? Did they have sons who joined the Confederate army? Did they own slaves? Or perhaps they were more progressive and became part of the emancipation efforts. As I listened to my new friends express desire to learn more about the history of their home. My imagination was swept away by the images and possibilities that connected the ordinary time in the mid to late 1800’s with ordinary time today.
On either side of the log cabin are additions which mirror the evolution of building prototypes. They are unapologetically connected by materials reflecting advancement in construction, yet the integrity of the original dwelling has been preserved. Although one can only speculate on the personal stories of those who lived here, the societal evolution since 1860 is clear. Automobiles replaced horse and buggy. Women found their voice. We trudged through multiple wars. Segregation and Jim Crow laws smothered opportunity for many Black Americans. Change came only through fierce debate so that the marginalized could have a seat at the communal table. Progress is imperfect, but we have made great strides in the years since this house was built.
Light switches, plumbing, non-stick cookware and television were among the many “upgrades” that now are part of 2021 ordinary conveniences. And now, wireless routers. Who would have ever thought? We’ve come a long way.
Oh, the world of being a writer. The glimpse of such rich history makes me want to don a bonnet, make a wood burning fire, grab a cast-iron pot and experience for a day the life of those who walked the fields beyond the scope of shared iPhone photos. I imagine the ghosts of generations past waving their crooked finger, offering an invitation to share the thread of love and loss which now rests on the hearth of my new friends.
It’s’ a good thing I don’t live anywhere near the historical allure of Northern Virginia. Can you imagine the possibility of me becoming that obnoxious neighbor? I’d show up rather frequently seeking to make my new friends best friends; channeling those ghosts from generations past. I could get lost concocting infinite stories. My curiosity remains piqued. I suspect I could wear out my welcome pretty quickly. Probably it’s best I returned home to Ohio. I find myself imagining what my neighborhood looked like in 1860. Oh, the stories our bricks and mortar could tell.