So, I started with the idea of building some simple way of getting out of my house once that fire escape, with its small, fake-porch landings, was gone. My house is on a hill, the back yard is a six-foot drop from the floor of the back room on the ground level, and I had to have a way to get out into my garden. I could have just built a staircase. Instead, I built an addition.
Thus began what I now call the Great Renovation Project. And it was a trip through time and space and a lot of money. My house was built in 1884. I knew it held many mysteries. The contractor solved some of them during this project, which expanded so far beyond the replacement of that fire escape that I cannot list everything here. Suffice to say that I now know what that strange, dark, 12-inch-diameter hole in the rear façade of the house was originally used for: It used to hold an early sewer lateral. In recent years it has held a pile of rubble and a dead rat, according to a plumber who once shot a high-powered flashlight beam in there to investigate.
“had it let go, I believe the landslide might have also carried away Myrtle Avenue.”
The sewer lateral hole is now sealed up, my foundation and a good part of my rear façade have been repointed, the leaking roof has been repaired, a staircase that had been removed decades ago and was original to the house has been replaced with a new staircase, the sagging fence has been reinstalled, and the original retaining wall that holds in my back yard has been rebuilt. When the contractor took the fence down, he and I stared at the retaining wall, which had been built the same year as the house and apparently had never been repaired. It canted out at a dangerous angle; had it let go, I believe the landslide might have also carried away Myrtle Avenue. It is now upright, completely rebuilt and nicely held together with new concrete.
An enclosed sun porch replaced the fire escape. I have new stairs that lead into my garden from the porch. I do not any longer have the table-top-sized piece of stone that had formed the stepping stone for the old stairs. I set that aside in the yard, told the contractor I intended to use it again, and forgot about it. One afternoon, I looked out my window and saw the crew swinging a sledge hammer to break up my stepping stone. The message about my reusing it apparently did not get through to everyone, and the stepping stone pieces are now the capstones on the new retaining wall. But that seemed a small price to pay for knowing that wall will never collapse in my lifetime.
And come this summer, I will love the sun porch.
By Darryl McGrath
