The new owner shipped the Georgian-style mansion down the Tred Avon River on a 50-mile journey. The ageing property will be restored once at its new home in Queenstown, Maryland.
The Victorian summer home on the West Cape May Bridge. The first floor of the house was moved Thursday, starting at the EHT storage yard, and moving down through Cape May, over a four-hour journey. March 14, 2019.
What was once one of the oldest homes in Avalon was being moved from an Egg Harbor Township storage yard to the Victorian shore town, a four-hour-long journey taken on by a South Jersey moving company and seven law-enforcement departments.
(Photo courtesy of Andrew Raitt)
The developers, who were looking to build an apartment complex, had purchased the two homes next door and were dead-set on getting the Raitts to sell. At first, Andrew and Christine were uninterested. They had a new baby. They loved their place. The 1,400-square-foot bungalow was home. But, as Andrew said, “[the developer] just kept bugging us and bugging us and bugging us.” They weren’t particularly interested in selling, until the persistent developer came back with an offer that “would make a lot of sense for us, you know, change our life,” as Andrew put it. Still, the Raitts “were just so emotionally attached to the house.” Finally, Andrew said, they told the developer they would sell under one condition: if they could keep the house.
“One day there’s a beautiful house on a corner, and the next day it’s gone,” frets Oak Bay rookie councillor Eric Zhelka, who worries his community is losing its old country charm, its heart and soul. Many of them are shipped south to Washington state, where people appreciate their hand-nailed craftsmanship and character. Oak Bay’s early 20th-century dwellings are being floated on barges to San Juan Island, where they’re offered to folks stuck in affordable housing jams.
(L-R) The Jones House, the Fowler House, the Beck House, the Wood House and the Stewart House. Kelsey Hawes
Some of the oldest homes in Boise’s Central Addition neighborhood will live to see another day. Threatened by arson, vandalism, the wrecking ball or a combination of all three, five of the 100-plus-year-old properties are being saved by California-based developer LocalConstruct, which will help foot the bill for moving, deconstructing or salvaging the buildings.
The owner of this house on Hopkins Road in Getzville has donated it to Buffalo ReUse. The organization would like to dismantle the house and reassemble it at another location.
By Thursday morning, the house was lifted off of its foundation and readied for the move.
Then everything fell apart.
Thursday afternoon, Brady from Emmert got a call from the city’s transportation bureau saying their permit had been rescinded.
“It seemed that someone in the forestry department was concerned they didn’t have enough time to evaluate the route and felt that too many trees going to be affected,” Fox says.
“What I don’t understand is why they waited so long. They have had the information. They approved the permits. And now at the 11th hour they are killing the project.”
Fox says the developer has been very patient with them, granting them extension after extension as they went through all the necessary permits and processes to get permission to move the house.
“I don’t know that he’s going to give us any more time,” she says. “Monday’s really the day. And if we don’t get it moved over the weekend, I am afraid it will be demolished.”
What has Fox particularly concerned is the possibility is that the city is going to make them come up with yet another route.
“Right now everyone is on board except for the one person,” she says. “If we can’t get it done now I just fear it will never happen. I am worried the clock has run out.”
Fox says it’s more than just the financial loss – though that will be substantial; she estimates they have spent between $60,000 and $75,000 on the project – it’s an emotional one.
“It’s a real shame that Portland doesn’t do more to preserve the old housing stock,” she says. “So much of it is in really good shape. It’s stuff that gives so many neighborhoods their character.
“To lose this house now, at the last minute, is like having a family member shot in front of you. The city did it and it didn’t have to happen.”