The House That Dad Built

When my parents married in 1959 they bought a 2 bedroom trailer house. (Think the "Long Long Trailer" of Lucille Ball fame. When I was born, Dad added a room. When my sister was born a 13 months later he added another room that would described as a mud room. After another sister was born 3 years later, Dad became more ambitious and decided to add a log addition. He tore down an old log house and reassembled it to form a living room, 2 bedrooms and a storage room (pantry). We lived quite comfortably for about 9 years until my 2 brothers were born. Things were crowed. My youngest brother's crib was in the living room next to the piano. Dad decided he wanted a room to watch TV without having to compete with daughter practising the piano. This addition would include a loft bedroom for his three daughters over the TV room and a front porch. For this addition he would use cement and rock and then lumber framing. He also had a building crew in the form of his 3 daughters. The addition went up, was finished and life was less crowded.



Mean while the trailer was getting older. During the winter it was cold and drafty. When a blizzard raged outside a snow drift would appear in the bath tub. The kitchen was small and cramped. One day my father announced to my mother that he was going to tear off the trailer house and build another log addition. Her retort was that that she wasn't commuting to the bathroom or living without running water in the house. The next day he started moving the food out of the storage room. He converted the storage room into a bathroom. When school was done in the spring Dad hunted up rims and tires for the wheels under the trailer house. The day after school was out he hitched the tractor to the trailer house and pulled it away. When I arrived home I helped him build the foundation of rock and cement. This time Dad purchased the logs for an addition. When the foundation was ready Dad called his friend Ivan to help him put up logs. On the appointed day Ivan arrived with his son and they started building. While they were working one of the neighbors dropped by with something he wanted Dad to fix. When he saw what was going on the neighbor, Bill sent his son home to get his hammer. With everyone working the walls were up by the end of the day. Within the week the roof was on. We spent the rest of the summer and fall finishing the inside. By Thanksgiving it was finished enough to move the stove into the kitchen to cook the turkey for dinner.

My parents still live in the house that Dad built. We children are all grown up. Most of us are married with children of our own. We return to visit, not as often as I would like, but we do the best we can with what we have.