Once-neglected home is nobody's fixer-upper now

Saturday, December 15, 2007

By Jan Galletta, Staff Writer

Girding themselves for a full gut-and-overhaul effort, Jackie and Andrew Phelps paid $50,000 for a rundown Highland Park home at a back-taxes auction. Four years, another $80,000 and a mother lode of manual labor later, the stately 1920 American Foursquare is nobody's fixer-upper now.

Built by a lumber-company scion whose photo hangs in the foyer, the home had an "absolutely solid foundation," said Mr. Phelps, 29, a coach and assistant to the headmaster at Girls Preparatory School.

"But it had been neglected and unoccupied -- officially, at least -- for two years."

An earlier conversion to apartments left it with "multiple bathrooms and kitchens where they didn't belong," said Ms. Phelps, 28, a homemaker. "It was vandalized when empty and was barely livable."

The couple spent more than a year rehabbing the 2,600-square-foot residence before occupying it.

They removed walls, fixtures, doors and an exterior rear staircase, which all had been erected during the dwelling's rental-property days, according to the Phelpses. They said they replaced the roof and installed new heating and cooling systems, refinished its hardwood floors, rebuilt much of its staircase and stripped or repainted its abundant wood trim, returning it to its earlier luxe condition.

Among the pair's most ambitious projects was carving out two new bathrooms, one behind the first-floor staircase and a second at the site of a former sleeping porch on the home's second story.

Using skills Mr. Phelps said "were acquired on the job," he laid hex tile floors, installed pedestal sinks and hung bead board in both rooms, much in keeping with the home's period character. When part of the wall excavation revealed a tall, narrow chimney for a coal stove in the basement, the Phelpses left its brick exposed, adding further nostalgic interest in the process.

Another labor-intensive project was the total construction of a new kitchen, which Ms. Phelps designed in detail, from maple cabinets to sandstone counters. Diverting space from an adjoining enclosed porch, she and her husband created a laundry room large enough to house a playroom, too.

Rooms weren't the only things for which the Phelpses found new uses. In their two daughters' upstairs bathroom, for instance, they turned a vintage buffet with sterling-capped handles into a pretty vanity by seating a sink in its center. Instead of sacrificing its drawer space to accommodate plumbing apparatus, they formed odd-shaped storage cubbies behind the conventional drawer fronts.

"We're all about manipulating furniture," said Ms. Phelps. She cited, as another example, the dining room's triangular china cupboard, a former TV cabinet with doors that were switched by the couple.

But it's the room's pocket doors that may represent the real coup, according to Mr. Phelps. He said that the 1920s fixtures were missing when the couple bought the house, but they located what they believe are the actual original doors (identified by telltale paint chips) in a downtown salvage shop.

They had no such luck with regard to the original lighting fixtures, none of which remained at the time of their purchase, according to Ms. Phelps. She said the family hung period reproductions, such as crystal-beaded chandeliers, that they bought at one of the big-box home-goods retailers.

Genuine antiques enhance most rooms in the house. They range from Ms. Phelps' grandfather's 1890s walnut-and-burl-wood desk to a mid-1800s window-seat chest, passed down through several generations of her family.

Some heirlooms, such as the iron-runner, wooden sleds that Mr. Phelps restored, currently double as holiday decorations. They provide a whimsical touch to an all-out ornamentation of the house that includes four Christmas trees, garlands of Battenburg-lace angels, wreaths, handmade stockings, candle tableaux, Moravian stars and all manner of other festive fillips.

Come New Year's, all the seasonal adornments will be packed away in an 800-square-foot carriage house that was part of the delinquent-taxes windfall. Restoring the two-story brick structure "will probably be a project for the home's next occupants," said Ms. Phelps. "I'm not ready to tackle that."