Historic Huffman

A Huffman neighbor [and friend] once told me that, generally, there are two types of people attracted to historic neighborhood living: those who are passionate about historic restoration and those who seek the cachet and vibe of such a neighborhood.

Indeed, not everyone has the fortitude and patience to completely restore a Victorian home, but many of the renovators I know also have a vintage car [or two] in their carriage houses. Historic restoration is a significant [and very visible] form of self-expression in Huffman.

Culturally, Americans are conditioned to find expression through our careers. In the “butcher, baker, and candlestick maker” category, Huffman boasts: attorneys, accountants, and architects; police officers and Air Force officers; nurses and teachers; civil servants and servant leaders; ministers and moms; and the occasional computer geek.

Lately, I have been struck by the many other forms of self-expression in our neighborhood, too…

We have hobby gardeners [like Shirley and Paula] and Master Organic Gardeners [like Mary and Mark]. Huffman’s fine artists include Carin, Rhonda, and Mary. Mike and John S. fly around in small planes for fun; Dan is a musician; Jamie finds self-expression in healthy living and good friends; Marc enjoys ballroom dancing and playing the piano while his neighbor Mary sings in three choirs; and a young mother in the neighborhood started a “Nourishing Traditions” discussion group to share ideas and recipes for healthy family eating.

Huffman has its share of writers too, including: Greg the novelist, John R. the playwright, and Danielle the creative writer. We also have a young married couple who started a delightful blog about joining their lives together and finding ways to live more simply and sustainably: http://ourvegetablelove.blogspot.com/

In Historic Huffman, there seems to be as much diversity in our self-expression as in our architectural styles!

I was excited and disappointed to see an engine slowly making its way along the tracks at the edge of the neighborhood this past week. It was a reminder that freight on rare occasions comes down those rails and that a bike path is still beyond the immediate horizon. It’s fascinating to watch a machine as large as house crawl through a residential area. I’d prefer a bevy of cyclists silently whisking by, though.

Despite the trainspotting, there is hope for a bike path. Funding for the path that will run from Kettering up to the University of Dayton’s campus was approved recently. The Southeast Connector received 2 million dollars. The path through Huffman and St. Anne’s Hill is projected to cost much less. Our path would be half the length and runs entirely along railroad right of way. I think it will be an easier project to finish.

Another good sign is that bike path improvements in the area are progressing according to the MVRPC’s plan. The two Montgomery County priorities ahead of our path are now either almost complete or are getting underway. I just wish they could handle more than one project per year. At any rate, it looks promising that our project we’ll be addressed in the next year. The biggest hurdle will probably be working with the railroad. Though, the engine I saw had only one car in tow. I can’t believe such small amounts of cargo transported so infrequently is profitable enough to be much incentive to operate and maintain those tracks. Let’s hope it isn’t.

The front parlor of our Victorian house is a peculiar place. It sits upright with chest thrust out to the large front porch and brick street. Astride one wall is a marble fireplace. On the other, a wood door with window — an entrance to the porch. Who has walked through that door during the past 140 years?

For many, the parlor was the best room in the house. It contained the fanciest (yet often uncomfortbale) furniture as well as family portraits and paintings. A gentleman caller for a young lady would be received in the parlor where he could sit politely across the room from his paramour and converse. If the family were not at home when a visitor called, he or she could leave a calling card on a tray in the front parlor.

Victorian parlors have been employed for other means, as well. Often a family member may have operated a business from the front room, such as a doctor or a lawyer. The separate entrance from the porch would have allowed clients to come and go without disturbing the family. The large pocket doors on the inside would have easily closed off the room from the rest of the house.

If not an office, then the parlor may have been the site of a music recital or games of charades or cards. On more somber occasions, a deceased family member may have been laid out in the front parlor and neighbors or friends may have called to pay their respects.

Pool table in the front parlor

In the twenty-first century, what purpose have we for a front parlor? Well, we’ve created a billiard room. Instead of a piano or upholstered footstools, our parlor graciously holds an antique Brunswick pool table. And it’s not simply for show. The parlor receives company, as friends and family vie for  the best shot across the table or try to get a little English on the ball.

Historic homes in Huffman have wonderful architecture. How do you / will you use your front parlor?