Radical Neighboring: Window Work

A couple of months ago, a friend from my running group sent me a text. He had a friend Ed* who had just received an estimate for vinyl replacement windows for his late-1800s house. The estimated amount? $73,000! Yes, you read that correctly. My friend, who also loves old windows, wondered if I would be willing to go to Ed’s house and take a look at the situation and offer some advice about repairing vs. replacing. Naturally, since I am crazy about original windows, I agreed immediately.

*name changed to protect his privacy

Before I go farther, the phrase, radical neighboring, came from my friend Steve Quillian during episode #4 of the True Tales From Old Houses podcast. Steve started something that he calls the Artisan Army. The general idea is that there is so much window preservation work to do in the world that it will take an army of artisans to make it happen, and Steve’s mission is to teach people how to do this good work.

During that podcast episode, Steve was getting fired up about helping others. When I told him that BHH has 140 (!) windows, he suggested that I host a workshop here and get the neighbors involved, just like an old-fashioned barn raising. I could teach them to fix old windows, and they could use the windows at BHH for practice. Steve called this extreme or radical neighboring. As a person who is committed to serving others, his words stuck with me.

Back to Ed’s house.

Meeting Ed

When I got out of the car to meet Ed, I realized that I already knew him! Nearly six months earlier, we met at the brewpub after a group run. Ed is long-retired from his career and from running, but he was there for a beer and some chit-chat. He struck up a conversation with me, and we talked for 30 minutes or so. I learned that Ed is a very active volunteer with a national service organization. He has a funny sense of humor, and we could barely get through a thought without someone recognizing him and coming over to say hello. People like Ed. He’s a good guy.

So now I was standing on his lawn reintroducing myself.

At first glance, everything looked straightforward–beautiful. For privacy reasons, I’m not showing the entire house, but it’s a three-story beauty.

Under the porch, I observed that there were no storm windows. On the second level in the front, I saw triple-tracks, but everywhere else, most of the windows had original storms. Yay! However, that’s where the good news ended.

Ed and I began walking around the house so I could assess the situation. There were several sashes with broken glass, and I immediately noticed the unusual crack pattern on each one. From the street, the windows looked like a 12 over 12 pattern, but the cracks traveled from one pane and into the panes beside it. What the heck?

Nothing But Muntin Trouble

As Ed and I talked, he revealed the answer. Around forty years ago, the previous owner decided that he wanted to change the look of the windows and had wood pieces routed in two profiles, and he glued on fake muntins to almost every single window in the house inside and outside. That’s right, the sashes were originally one over one, and he changed the look by adding fake muntins.

The good news? He got the look he wanted. The bad news? When the glass breaks, there is no way to pop out a broken pane and fix it. The entire window has to be repaired. Every fake muntin, inside and out, has to be removed to replace the glass and then glued on again. Ugh.

But Wait! There’s More!

This development already blew my mind, but there was more. Over the past couple of years, Ed paid someone to repair the storm windows and get some of the sashes open. This next part is tough to express because, in a small town, everyone is a neighbor even if they don’t live next door. You know how it goes. So, what I want to say is that the person he hired had a big heart. He tried to figure out how to fix windows, and Ed generously allowed him to learn by working at his house. Ed saw it as a win-win.

However, the repair scenario that played out all over Ed’s entire house was this:

And I felt so sad. The person he hired used caulk instead of glazing and paint became glue. Ed was no closer to beautiful and functional windows.

Where to Start?

During our visit, I stayed non-committal. After all, I’ve got 140 freaking windows of my own around here. I need another window project like I need a hole in my head. But Ed got excited, and I got excited. He gave me the entire tour of the house which includes gorgeous unpainted woodwork, a sunny reading nook, and the bedrooms that his girls used to sleep in, nearly untouched even though they are grown women now–their heights through the years recorded on the doorframe outside the kitchen.

We explored the third floor where Ed stores Christmas decorations that he still puts up every year. He talked about the yearly Halloween party he used to throw when the kids were young. Twenty-five years of memories came tumbling out.

Then, as I was getting ready to leave, he said,

“I want to show you what’s upstairs in the barn.”

The 1880s barn is built up on a hill. Even though Ed uses the barn to house his convertible, there is a legit ramp to walk livestock up into stalls from the back side of the barn. But that wasn’t the best part. Upstairs, there is a basketball court!

A basketball court! Over the years, during every party he has ever thrown, Ed has given people a Sharpie to sign or write little messages on the wall. The walls are full of writing from everyone from the newly minted kindergartner to seasoned adults.

I signed the wall, and he handed me the ball. I may only have a two-inch vertical, but I can still make a two-pointer as long as there are no people around me, and I can use the backboard, and I’m not playing a high-pressure game like HORSE, and… There’s a reason my sport of choice is running. It’s a solo game.

What’s Next?

Refusing to commit to anything specific, I left with Ed’s phone number and promised to text him in a week.

And now, like a crazy person, I have some of Ed’s windows in my workshop, so you know where that went.

Save the old windows!

A few weeks later, Ed sent me this text:

“My house told me today that he (the house) is glad you are involved.”

And then he offered to pay me some money via Venmo which made me smile because Ed uses Venmo, and I don’t.

At this stage of my life, I’m in a unique position to be able to lead with my heart sometimes, and I’ve got no regrets about it.

-Stacy

PS: Before I left that first day, Ed and I did a full safety check around his house to identify all of the exits in case of an emergency. Despite all the work that his windows need, there is a way for him to get out of the house or get rescued just a few steps away no matter where he is in the house. Safety is always the priority when it comes to making a window restoration plan.