This is a blog about a home. In 1962 Seattle hosted the World’s Fair, the Space Needle was built, and the home (with a view of the Space Needle) was constructed by architect/builder James Paul Jones. James Paul Jones had a long career in Seattle housing, building over 300 homes in Seattle, 150 in the neighborhood of this home alone. After building the home, he lived in it for the rest of his life, passing away in spring of 2017.
In 2017, a family of three Seattle-ites made the mistake of beginning to attend local real estate open houses on the weekends. The husband, Dave, considered this part of the slow process of finding a new place to live, having previously successfully stretched out the search for a place to build a cabin to over six years. The wife, Lisa, considered this her next project, a new opportunity to build, create, and remodel a home in Seattle to match the modern cabin the family had constructed for in the Methow Valley. The son, Max, wondered why his weekends were spent being dragged to yet another Seattle neighborhood, but enjoyed the endless discovery of open houses (what exactly was that toilet doing in the clothes closet?) The dog, Imma, was impacted only in that her family seemed to return from these trips, which was another great excuse to run around excitedly and wag her tail like a helicopter.
The houses they saw on these adventures were spread all over the Seattle map. The house that looked haunted. The house with the falling off porch. The house with the falling off basement. The house, yes, with the toilet in the closet.
In October of 2017, they found a house on the water that was so close to the sound that it felt like it was floating. That home was too expensive so they solicited a real estate agent to put in a lowball offer. And then, on a Tuesday, a different listing, in the same neighborhood appeared. “There is an 85 percent chance this is the home”, said the dad, with a degree of precision unwarranted even by a believer in the Bayesian interpretation of probabilities, but informed by six months of staring at real estate listings and learning all of the tricks and tactics of real estate photographers (why yes that is a giant telephone pole in front of that big window.)
The next day they visited this home, perched on a south-east exposure in the neighborhood of Magnolia. Their son, Max, came along, and immediately settled into the staircase to play his portable video game. The mom and dad wandered the home, marveled at the layout, the pool, the very 1962 cabinetry, the massive bar, and the 1980s master bathroom, the latter three requiring extensive updating. The next day they put in an offer.
“Dear Family of the James Paul Jones home,” began their offer letter, “Thank you for giving us the opportunity to visit your beautiful home. Last night my husband Dave, our 7-year-old son Max, and I met, after school and work, and imagined the laughter and memories that we might someday create in the stairwells and rooms of your childhood home.”
This letter must have been persuasive, their offer was accepted, and thus began the selling of the old house, the packing, the countless trips to Goodwill, and then, finally, the moving.
In January of 2018 a dark cloud returned. Cancer had returned to the mom, seizures sent her to the hospital in an ambulance that had to be carefully backed down the dead-end street of the new home. Hope springs eternal, however, so the mom camped out in front of the amazing view of Seattle, and worked on recovery. With an optimism that can be the only answer to mortality, the family began planning for the major remodel the home would need. Architects, Ray and Mary, who the family had previously worked to build a home in the Methow Valley were brought in. Pinterest boards were created.
In May of 2018, the mom passed away, losing her battle with cancer.
This is a blog about a home. It is Dave, Max, and Imma Dog’s home. It is where they splash in the pool, play board games at the dinner table, eat Hatch green Chile enchiladas, bark at the crows, and stare at the sail boats and cruise ships on Elliot Bay. It is also the last gift from a mom, a project, a hope, and a reminder that there are no beginning and endings, only the relentless march of the wholeness known as time.
We hope you will join us as we embark on remodeling this home. We hope you enjoy this blog about a home.
Dave, Max, and Imma