Thursday, September 01, 2005

"Let's keep everything just the way it was."

In my college years, I lived with my grandmother in St. Paul, in a home just like my home on East Main. It was in the suburbs in 1912, at the end of the trolly line, though it is in the inner city now.

One Sunday, my dad drove me in from White Bear Lake for the move. He said, "Nana likes things just the way they were when Grandpa died. Just remember----- it is her house." "O.K., I said," " No problem."

This was in 1963. Grandpa had died in 1930. The victrola in the corner of the living room looked right out of an FDR fireside chat. The radio dial was on a AM station that had died years ago. I expected any minute a breaking bulletin announcing a further chapter in the Pacific war. Anyway, all the wallpaper was mint original. True Historic Preservation stuff. The rugs were all oriental. And of course the floors were oak and the sliding pocket doors really slid hard, since nobody knew how to adjust them anymore.

The furniture was the problem--the living room furniture was vintage 1920's, but the springs had been shot for at least 30 years. So, nobody could sit on them or a serious back injury would result. The dining room furniture was useful since it was all oak
.
Nana had a story for everything. Yes, the green historic lighting was ok outside, but not as grand as when the "lamplighters" used to come each night on the wagon and reach up and light the kerosene lamps with a wick. Now that was grand.

Years later, I learned that folks occasionally react to loss that way. They will want to keep things just the way they were. There is therapy for it now. No need for a person to suffer that way....fixed in time and not being truly alive.

At the Homecoming Parade in Evansville this year, I had the opportunity to watch the parade from the true center of the Historic District. What a glorious day of fall colors. The residents I spoke too, however, were not too jovial. They had just gotten their assessments for being Historic and the assessments had gone sky high. They pleaded with me, "Can't we just be old and not "Historic?"

"NO, I replied," "That cannot be." We are old on East Main and proud of it. You are Historic. You have to keep things just the way they were."