Several years ago, while my wife Robyn and I were renovating the house we live in, we discovered a creepy old abandoned house across the street (our powers of observation are unparalleled, it seems, because it only took us six months to notice it). We looked at it from the road that night and wanted to see more, so I tracked down the owner and got his permission to go through it with a camera. He told me it had been built in 1876, and unlived-in since the 1970s.
Unfortunately, the owner harvested most of the wood from the house a few years ago, then razed it and buried what was left. I’ll bet it was a pretty thing in its heyday.
The view from the front yard.
Looking at one end … while the house looks back.
Looking down the old hand-dug well. That’s broken glass at the bottom.
I’m honestly not sure what this is. It’s right outside the kitchen. It might be a second well.
The view from the kitchen into what was probably the dining room.
The view from the front room / parlor into another room (living room?)
In the same room as the previous picture, looking out the front window.
Looking into the upstairs from the top of the front stairs. The floor here looked very untrustworthy so we stayed off it.
Another view from the top of the front stairs.
Looking up the front stairs.
Another view of the kitchen, on the back of the house. The supports had collapsed, which is why the window is angled.
Looking from the dining room onto the front porch.
Some of the stylin’ old wallpaper.
Inside the kitchen.
The window shown from the outside earlier, where the supports are collapsed.
Another window.
One of the chimneys and part of one of the exterior doors.
The front door from inside the house.
Layers of wallpaper.
The front porch and door.
The front steps.
The house ended up being the (loose) basis for the Barlowe place in my horror novel Charnel House.