Life Behind The Front Door

The lowdown on “Story of a House”

By Deborah Salomon

Talk about a dream assignment. “Would you like to take over ‘Story of a House?’” editor Jim Dodson asked, when I came to The Pilot/PineStraw in November 2008. I had written about houses before, knew something of architecture, construction, furnishings, even plumbing — also that homes reflect their occupants in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.

“Great!” I answered.

That was approximately 110 homes ago, including five in Greensboro for O.Henry. I don’t remember them all but, since this is PineStraw’s annual Home & Garden issue, I thought you might enjoy sharing the process and some standouts.

Houses are selected by PineStraw founder and creative director Andie Rose. I call for an appointment lasting at least an hour, always in daylight, preferably on a weekend, when people are relaxed. I try to learn something of the family and house beforehand. The Tufts Archives at Given Memorial Library help with historic properties.

I work with photographer John “The Genius” Gessner who, honestly, could make Camilla look like Lady Di.

I always carry dog biscuits, for a friendly first impression. This works except the time I left my purse on the floor while the homeowner showed me around. Her sweet Lab puppy emptied it looking for seconds.

First, we sit down (preferably in the kitchen, less formal) while I explain the purpose: how the house relates to its occupants, illustrates lifestyle, travels, tastes and collections. Photos replace lengthy descriptions.

I can usually tell if the house is the product of an interior designer.

Then a walking tour and — now that we’re acquainted — another sit-down for the whole story.

Houses and their contents write the history of Southern Pines and Pinehurst, especially seasonal “cottages” built during the early 20th century. Most, thank goodness, have been respectfully updated/enlarged. I recall only one blip — a huge Victorian left intact outside, converted to a slick, wide-open Manhattan condo inside. I’ve written about rough cabins in the woods and one modest homestead completely engulfed by a mansion.

The smallest house was hardly bigger than a potting shed — a designer’s pied-a-terre with scaled-down furniture and appliances, a morsel of eye candy. The largest was a compound consisting of main house, guest quarters and jumbo over-the-garage apartment, each with a full kitchen and multiple bathrooms. The second largest had a kitchen long enough for the kids to set up bowling pins on the wood floors.

Speaking of garages, how about the detached triple-wide reimagined as a 1950s soda shop, complete with black and white tiled floor, juke box, tables, chairs and a bar.

Emphasis on kitchens and bathrooms came as no surprise. I’ve peeked into bathrooms with wall-mounted TV and DVD players, two-person 100-jet showers, spa tubs set into bay windows, but none as memorable as the tiny, windowless powder room fashioned as a grotto, with mosaic tiles, low lights and a niche surrounding a saintly statue. Glamour kitchens are a given, but their fittings still amaze me, particularly a built-into-the-wall espresso machine and an old-timey red Coca-Cola cooler salvaged from a gas station, now filled with bottled soda. Pastry and “man-cook” areas are a dime a dozen, as are low-mounted microwaves for kids, but just one kitchen sported a cabinet and drawers reserved for breakfast foods, dishes and cutlery. And just one master suite had a mini-kitchen with sink, fridge and coffeemaker. I adored the kitchen with a red racing bike suspended from a vaulted ceiling but, in another, thought a skylight dome surrounded by Italianate murals (I call it Bacchus does the Sistine Chapel) a bit imposing.

The collections on display — impressive — especially Churchill memorabilia, museum-quality Mayan pottery, autographed photos and posters featuring movie stars the owner knew through business. I’ve seen framed documents bearing signatures I dare not mention for security reasons.

The most impressive TV encountered was custom-engineered, 10 feet wide and nearly 6 feet high, filling an entire wall in a second-story golf-themed man cave overlooking Pinehurst No. 2. During the U.S. Open that lucky guy could, theoretically, watch play from his veranda and on his TV simultaneously. Sports/equestrian motifs are common; one Clemson fan had a giant orange paw painted on her garage wall.

The gadget prize goes to a double-decker closet with motorized hanging rack, dry-cleaners style. But I also wrote about a little charmer with no closets, just pegs.

As if a pool isn’t lovely enough, several properties had free-form “pond” pools, with flagstone borders and Earth-toned liners. The pool house adjoining another was a slave cabin, disassembled and brought from South Carolina.

I admit to being spooked by a dining room painted dried-blood red but found the colorful, angular furnishings in another more fun than the Mad Hatter’s tea party. Equally surprising, but lovely: a Christmas tree made from copper tubing, with tiny lights, which stands year-round in an artist’s living room.

In Moore County new construction leans toward cottage styles, with some Arts and Crafts bungalows and a few Taras. Kudos to young families who adapt and beautify those boring brick ranches popular in the 1950s. Other beauties include new but weathered-looking downtown lofts, also a stunning condo with roof garden over the owner’s Broad Street business.

My favorite? I’ll only reveal that it is of modest size, walking distance to downtown Southern Pines and expresses, exquisitely, the occupant’s talents and personality.

Definitely the most unusual dwelling belongs to owners of champion purebred dogs. Not only do they have an exercise/grooming room with treadmill and refrigerator for special diets, but a covered indoor-outdoor run-potty area and a system of gates within the house to prevent fraternization.

Not that pet rooms are unusual, most with bathing facilities, some with TV and music. One had low windows with twin-sized mattresses positioned underneath so the bull mastiffs could stretch out and watch the world go by.

Mustn’t forget the grandkids. I gasped at an upstairs wing with library area, built-in shipboard bunk beds and a curtained stage for performances.

I’ve discovered topiary gardens and arcade game machines, elevators and secret staircases, basement beer gardens and complete outdoor kitchens, workout facilities and putting greens but, as yet, no bidets or indoor lap pools.

Maybe soon, because you never know what’s behind the next front door.

Deborah Salomon is a staff writer for PineStraw and The Pilot. She may be reached at debsalomon@nc.rr.com.

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