1989: Categorizing House Rehabbers

Elaine Viets wrote for the St. Louis Post-Dispatch for over twenty five years. She specialized in quirky vignettes from South St. Louis. Since then, she has become a prolific writer of crime fiction, featuring strong women with odd backgrounds. (Suggested: her Dead End Job series) In the research for these, Elaine often assumed the same low-level low-income positions that her protagonists held in the book) She now lives and writes in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. I emailed her for approval to repost an article she wrote about early rehabbers of the Square. In her reply she wished Lafayette Square well, and wrote that she’s always considered it one of the prettiest places in St. Louis.

On October 15, 1989, The Post-Dispatch published Elaine’s story, Categorizing Rehabbers in its PD Magazine. In honor of all those who swung a sledge-hammer or uncovered a hidden stairway in Lafayette Square, here is a repeat.

ALL REHABBERS seem alike – worried-looking, gray-skinned people. The worry comes from wondering what’s going to go wrong with your house next. That special shade of rehabber gray comes from plaster dust. That stuff is everywhere. You can’t get rid of it.
Rehabbers sound the same, too. We can go on about plastic plumbing and slate shingles until your eyes cross. But we really are different, just like snow flakes. Or, some kind of flakes. Lee the Rehabber, a real city expert, listed some of the kinds you’ll encounter.

The Restorer

”This person does everything to keep the house the same,” Lee said, ”right down to the original colors, furniture and curtains.”This gives you the weird feeling you’re in an old photograph.”In fact, a picture of the house taken a hundred years ago looks the same as a photo taken today.”Many Lafayette Square houses are in this category. These rehabbers reject everything from the 20th century, even its comforts. ”The kitchens and baths won’t be modernized. The only new things will be a refrigerator and a well-hidden micro-wave.’’ Deep in the basement, like a family secret, you’ll find a furnace and a water heater.

Tom Keay rehabbing in all directions at 1532 Mississippi Ave; 1977

The Updater

 ”These people try to keep the outside the same, except they use today’s colors.”You’ll see some startling effects. Sturdy old brick houses may be trimmed a delicate mauve and gray, like plow horses wearing plumes.The Updaters may appreciate the old touches, but they want a hot shower in the morning.”The kitchen and bathroom will be modern. If the floors are beyond restoring, they might carpet them. They’ll save the original woodwork. If the original floor plan is lousy, they’ll change it. ”This house won’t look like its 100-year-old picture,” he said. ”It will look better.”

The High Tech Rehabber

”These people usually buy rundown buildings that have little to save,” Lee said. ”They gut the inside, removing the walls, floors and woodwork.”The outside stays much the same. Inside everything is new. The people who used to live there wouldn’t recognize the place.”Considering who used to live there, that’s good. ”The result is a new home that looks old only on the outside.’’

The windowless shells and weedy lots of MacKay Place in 1972.

The Max Factor Rehabber

 That’s an old rehabber term for a cosmetic job. ”These types come to the neighborhood in the first influx. They buy the better homes in good repair, they don’t gut them, and they finish them in a hurry.” The rehab looks beautiful: fancy wallpaper, nice woodwork, old chandeliers. But it’s a haunted house. It has the ghosts of the past. ”The old plumbing is about to rust through. The old wiring is waiting to blow a fuse when you plug in your hair dryer. The plaster ceiling, held up with a fresh coat of wallpaper, is about to drop in your Sunday dinner.”Max Factors are often sold to unsuspecting couples. They don’t understand that an old house with ”everything original” is not a find.

The Remodeler

”Whatever the house looked like before, it will be worse when they’re through,” Lee said. Remuddlers put aluminum siding over mellow brick. Drop 8-foot ceilings and cover up the ornate plaster. Remove the original woodwork. Panel with cheap pressed sawdust. ”The results are always the same. When they’re finished they’ve removed all the original beauty.’’

Lafayette Gothic. Sue and Terry Linhardt; 1973

The Odd Couple

 Most people will rehab a house. Once. If they’re still married when it’s over, they’ll never even pick up a hammer again. But there are a few odd couples who are only happy living in plaster dust and painter’s drop cloths. When they get one house finished, they sell it and move into another mess. They’re so crazy, they can’t wait to do it again, right away. What do you call them? That’s easy – the nuts and bolts rehabbers.

Resources

Thanks to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch for original text.

It took a certain kind of evangelism to attract others to the Square in the 1970s. Another gifted local observer, Linda Underwood, categorized the locals of that time. It complements this piece well: lafayettesquarearchives.com/1979-the-pony-was-the-people/

Note the photo above of 1532 Mississippi Avenue. The same home is now for sale, and you can see for yourself what over 45 years of rehabbing can do. https://www.redfin.com/MO/Saint-Louis/1532-Mississippi-Ave-63104/home/93697404

1975: A Felonious Bldg. Commissioner

The photo at top, left is of 1926 Hickory Street in April, 1970. It is a ‘before’ example of the kind of property recognized and restored in Lafayette Square back in the brave days. This story is about these empty hulks, and about what you can lose when you trust that your government works always in the public interest.

Continue reading “1975: A Felonious Bldg. Commissioner”