When we traveled to Michigan to take our first look at this potential second home, I was ready for an overwhelming amount of creepy historic house energy to come oozing out of the redwood plank panelling and nix the whole idea. Who cared if Frank Lloyd Wright designed it? I was ready to encounter a dank and stale environment. I was wrong.
As much as I wanted to hate this old house on my first visit, I could not. As I walked from room to room, the autumn sunlight streamed through the windows, warming each cozy space. I stood still and silent and just felt the restorative quality of of this simple and yet infinitely grand shelter. And like so many others before me, I was home.
Over the years I’ve encountered the “ghosts” of former inhabitants of the Goetsch-Winckler throughout the house. Let’s start with the front door. Where is it? Is it the set of doors with the deadbolt? The set under the overhead light? When Frank Lloyd Wright came to visit, did he enter and walk smack into the hall closet? Or did Alma Goetsch and Katherine Winckler never lock their doors at all, and just enter through any set that was convenient?
Speaking of locks, what’s up with the strange square of wood in the large bedroom door? Deadbolt? Repair of a kicked in door? Oh, the drama! And I’d love to attribute this door’s tendency to slam when the windows are open to an other-worldly presence, but I’m pretty sure it’s really just the wind.
In the small bedroom there’s a hole cut in the back of the built in bookshelf allowing access to a wall cabinet in the gallery. Phone wires? Electrical cords? Or someone with something secret to stash? Will we ever know?
And although many architects and contractors would encourage me to refinish the cabinets and closet doors, I choose to leave them as they are. The scratches near the door pulls remind me of the many others who have called this little house home.
In the bathroom, “ghost marks” on the wall hint where a mirror or medicine cabinet might have been but leave little information as to the original design. How many people, even FLW himself, have stood at that sink and stared into the same mirror as I do, wondering if they really look as ghoulish as the reflection peering back at them in that ghastly overhead lighting? Forget haunted, I scare myself daily!
Back to Frank Lloyd Wright, it’s been said that his “presence” haunts all Wright homeowners in their restoration decisions. Although I’ve never felt a chill around midnight as the breeze from a flourish of his cape flows through the studio, I have encountered him daily in the beauty of every structural detail. Even the simple task of opening a window causes me to reflect on his genius in all aspects of design. It is these reflections, more insightful than frightful, that will become the future topics for my blog.
Questions or Comments? I’d love to hear from you.