There’s something humbling about realizing that, no matter how long you live in a house, you are only its caretaker for a brief moment in its long life. When I started researching the history of my home, built in 1927, I couldn’t help but imagine the families who came before me—their laughter echoing through the same walls, their hands turning the same doorknobs, their memories forever woven into the very fabric of this space.
Through old records, I found the original permit (below), confirming what I had suspected: my home was built with intention, care, and a price tag that makes today’s market look like a cruel joke. The house originally cost $7,000, and the garage? A mere $300. I have to imagine that was a sizable sum back then, but still—can you even buy a garden shed for that price today?
Luckily, when I started my research journey, I had a great place to start. The previous owners of our home left us a plethora of information, including the original blueprints—now framed and proudly displayed in our home—as well as a stack of original records and paperwork. These documents have been an incredible resource, offering a glimpse into the home’s past and the care that has gone into preserving it over the years.
As I dug deeper, I uncovered snippets of history—old newspaper clippings, stories of the families who lived here before me. Each discovery painted a richer picture of the home’s past, reinforcing the idea that while I may have the keys now, this house has always had a life of its own.
And that’s the thing about old homes—they endure. If we’re lucky, we get 20 or 30 years under one roof, filling it with our own traditions, inside jokes, and maybe a questionable wallpaper choice or two. But eventually, the torch passes. Another family will move in, bringing their own dreams, renovations, and furniture that may or may not fit up the staircase.
That’s why caring for our homes—truly cherishing them—is so important. They are more than wood, plaster, and paint; they are sanctuaries. They protect not just our belongings but our stories, holding onto the echoes of past laughter, the warmth of shared meals, and the quiet moments that make life meaningful.
For me, preserving the character of my home isn’t just about aesthetics (though let’s be honest, I do love a well-thrifted treasure and a good vintage light fixture). It’s about honoring the history, the craftsmanship, and the people who lived here before me. Does the fireplace behind the photo of the girls drawing look familiar? It’s about ensuring that when the next caretakers arrive, they feel that same sense of comfort and belonging—a continuation of something bigger than any one of us.
So here’s to old homes, to the lives they’ve sheltered, and to the caretakers—past, present, and future—who keep their stories alive. Because in the grand scheme of things, we don’t own these homes. We simply have the privilege of loving them for a little while.
Love of Luverne 
Leave a comment