A family friend is restoring my house. But first he restored his life.

March 22, 2025 whoopsiepiggleLeave a comment

If you find a contractor who is knowledgeable, talented, honest and sober, do all you can to keep them happy because they are about as hard to find as a four-leaf clover growing in Akron in January. Contractors who are all that are highly sought and it may take months, sometimes years, to schedule your project.

After I purchased Dreisbach House in 2003, contractor Paul Mann updated many things for me. He remodeled the upstairs bathroom and one of the four bedrooms. Because Dreisbach House is constructed of two layers of brick, the walls cannot be insulated. Paul suggested blowing cellulose insulation between the ceiling of the second floor and the floor of the third. It made the house noticeably warmer in winter

Now 70, Paul has been trying to work less for several years. I have used another contractor who fits the bill when Paul isn’t available, including last spring’s deconstruction of the walls in the three bedrooms in Dreisbach House that Paul hadn’t remodeled. But last summer this contractor told me he would not be able to finish the project for a while due to health issues.

It was a perfect storm. My house was torn apart, the contractor who started the project was unable to work, and because I had to abruptly end what I thought was the last relationship of my life, I needed my empty house to generate income ASAP. I called Paul, not sure he hadn’t fully retired, and told him the scope of the project. He said, “Holly, do you remember Jack?”

Just a little younger than my eldest son, Jack went to the Waldorf school with my first three children. He taught them Dungeons and Dragons and how to fish. Back then, I’d leave my boys with their grandparents in northern Michigan for a month each summer. In 2009, Jack accompanied them. They fished off the the town’s lighthouse pier on Lake Michigan when they weren’t working at the cemetery with Grandpa, the city’s sexton. One weekend, the grandparents took the boys to an inland lake down a long dirt road where a friend had a small cabin. The lake had been stocked long ago, but nobody fished there anymore. The boys caught 80 fish (or 10 dumb ones eight times) in one day. They christened it “Lake Heaven on Earth.”

Two of Holly Christensen's sons and Jack fishing off the lighthouse pier in Charlevoix, Mich. — Holly’s sons Claude and Hugo fishing off the lighthouse pier with Jack in Charlevoix, Mich., 2009.

In high school, my sons mentioned who smoked marijuana. Jack was one of them. Many nights he climbed out his bedroom window and went who knows where. His mom said she if she put her foot down, Jack would go live with his father. I understood her anxiety; he very well might have. But being adamant about house rules, sometimes confrontationally so, is an expression of love. Deep down, it is also what children want. For when instead parents do nothing, the child feels they have given up on him.

“Paul,” I said, “Jack has disappointed me in the past.” Paul said the same was true for him.

Jack became a father at 19. When his girlfriend was pregnant, they rented a room in Dreisbach House for a few months, and he also did some yard work for me. Though Jack is an incredibly intelligent person, in both situations I observed behaviors that showed a lack of maturity, particularly for someone about to become a parent.

The relationship with his child’s mother didn’t last, and over the course of his 20s Jack’s alcohol and marijuana consumption increased. Eventually he started using what he calls “roulette powder,” something sold as cocaine, but which users know is often cut with other white powdery substances — some inert like baby powder, others potentially lethal. Jack understood any dose might be laced with something that would kill him, and he thought maybe that was best.

Then one night, while getting high on roulette powder, he watched a movie in which a man finds his son’s body several days after he’d overdosed. Jack had an epiphany. Whatever his miseries, none compared to what his child would have to live with if Jack overdosed.

“So, Holly,” Paul tells me, “Jack’s sober, he’s married to a wonderful woman and they go to church.”

He shared at length the quality of Jack’s work, describing projects where he had exceeded clients’, and Paul’s, expectations. Paul ended with, “And, Holly, you and I both believe everyone deserves a second chance, don’t we?”

Jack, now 30, and another worker began putting Dreisbach House back together last October. A week after they started, I went over to answer some questions Jack had. I entered the living room and found the floor covered with tarps upon which rows of baseboards and trim were organized neatly.

I began to cry, releasing a stress I hadn’t known I was holding. Where there had been overwhelming chaos, things were now orderly. I’ve since learned that Jack’s skills do indeed live up to Paul’s praise. Jack and I have had many long talks and he also has reconnected with my sons. It feels like a once lost nephew has returned home.

Restoring 1909 home to former glory can’t stop for curveballs

March 8, 2025 whoopsiepiggleLeave a comment

I met 88-year-old Herman Dreisbach twice in 2003 before purchasing the house his uncle built in 1909 and gifted to him in 1946. Herman and his wife, Ruth, raised their two children in the home, the only one in which the couple lived as Ruth died in 2002. As regular readers know, I raised my three eldest sons in what I call Dreisbach House and am now raising my youngest two children next door in Cressler House, named after Claire Cressler, who lived in his home for six decades with his wife, Gloria. Claire was my neighbor and frequent dinner guest until his death in 2007. Both homes feel imbued by the love of the couples who lived in them.

For 11 years, I rented out Dreisbach House, which paid for both mortgages. When my last tenants moved out, I was in a relationship with the man I fell in love with at 17. Though external forces pulled us apart in 1983, we never lost contact. For four decades and many moves across the country, I kept a box of his letters because in a back pocket of my heart I believed we would one day reunite. And so we did in the spring of 2021. After 2 1/2 years of a long-distance romance, he moved to Akron. Together we decided to restore Dreisbach House beyond its former glory and live there for the rest of our days. Instead of finding new tenants, we began renovations.

By necessity, windows went first. While most of the main floor windows are original, several decades ago the Dreisbachs replaced the second floor and kitchen windows with vinyl ones, which had warped with age. Two remained permanently closed while one was stuck 4 inches open and had to be covered with wood and plastic. We replaced them with Andersen wooden windows that have color-matched exterior aluminum cladding in oxblood red, the exterior color of the windows in 1909. We discovered this when layers of white paint were scraped off the existing original windows. That, along with their non-standard sizes, caused the manufacture to take more than 16 weeks.

The next step was to begin the great undoing of Herman Dreisbach’s 1950s improvements of the bedrooms. I assume Dreisbach’s goal was to cover the plaster walls, which now and again form bubbles and cracks, and situate outlets. First he mounted heavy-gauge wire atop the 10″ baseboards. Then he installed drywall, with holes strategically placed for outlets to connect to the wire, over the walls and baseboards. Not exactly up to code, but it worked for 70 years without incident.

Last spring, contractors removed the drywall, revealing the original baseboards and window frames, which also had been covered, all of which needed repaired or replaced. In one bedroom I had a sizable hole cut into the wall of a closet that extended several feet over the stairwell so as to create a sitting nook.

Then, when the project was at the point where everything was undone, my relationship went topsy-turvy, as someone less besotted might have predicted. There will never be a love in my life greater than that for my children. The remorse for what my 15-year-old son was exposed to will stay with me all my days. But he also witnessed my swift and irrevocable response.

Where the brain accepts hard truths, the heart can be slow to follow. The loss of a dream I thought had come true pushed me into an unrelenting grief that too often doubled me over with sobs from the bottom of my gut, made me shake palsy-like and weep in public for no apparent reason. The only other time I felt as hollowed out was after the death of my grandmother. If you’ve run into me in the past year and what I said made little sense, you now know why.

But grief is not depression. I carry on, busily working on projects I had set aside for three years. Most importantly, I am held by the loving support of family and friends. My eldest sons have taken monthly turns traveling home to spend weekends with me, while faraway friends schedule calls to talk for as long as I need. Here in Akron, my friends Bruce and Jim share meals with me most weeks as they patiently guide me through this difficult passage.

Because it was in the middle of a renovation when I was thrown a curveball, I found myself with a house that could not generate revenue. My income last year was almost $20k, so I had to get creative. I took out $17,000 on two credit cards at zero percent interest for 18 months and began to put the beautiful Dreisbach House, and my life, back together. I’m eager to share some results in the weeks ahead.

This was first published in the Akron Beacon Journal on Sunday, March 2, 2025.

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New windows restore an Akron house’s Arts and Crafts charm

March 19, 2024 whoopsiepiggleLeave a comment

Architectural and interior styles change over time and as they do, people often change their spaces accordingly. My next-door neighbors’ home was built at the turn of the last century by the family that owned Akron Brewing Co. Sometime in the mid-20th century, the kitchen’s wooden cupboards were removed and replaced with “modern” stainless steel ones.

Luckily, an original section of the bottom cupboards remained on the back porch, which my neighbors, having removed all the metal ones, painstakingly restored and integrated into their new kitchen, creating a pleasing mix of old and new.

My two side-by-side homes on the near westside of Akron were treated very differently by the families that lived in them for over 60 years. None of the original decorative woodwork remains in Cressler House, where I live. I have a photo of Claire Cressler and his wife, Gloria, gleefully attacking with crow bars the oak columns that had been near the front door.

Next door, at Dreisbach House, Herman and Ruth Dreisbach were more surgical when remodeling. Perhaps they appreciated its Arts and Crafts style, or maybe it was because they had been gifted the home by Herman’s uncle, Herman Zimmerly, who built the house in 1909. But they, too, looked to modernized their house with the changes they made.

The Dreisbach House, circa 1915. — Dreisbach House, circa 1910, the year after it was built. *Holly Christensen*

Between 1905 and 1915, several houses were built on my street with either golden or dun-colored brick, all held together with red mortar. Dreisbach House has the dun brick (the Akron Brewery home is of the golden brick). Large blocks of yellowish sandstone form the foundation while substantial pieces of pinkish limestone were used for the exterior window sills and lintels.

The windows in the living room, dining room, stairway landing and third floor of Dreisbach House are the original (and never painted) oak sash windows, with pulleys and weights to hold opened windows in place. The glass is leaded, creating a charmingly warbled view of the outdoors, and the interior brass handles have decorative flourishes.

In probably the 1980s, the Dreisbachs had the kitchen and all the bedroom windows replaced with white vinyl ones. They painted the exterior of the remaining original windows white to match the vinyl ones. Presumably that is also when they replaced the roof’s wooden soffits and fascia with white aluminum, which they also used to cover all exterior wooden features. And finally, they enclosed the front porch using louvered windows with, you guessed it, white frames.

The Dreisbach house in 2011. — Dreisbach House in 2011.

A conundrum of owning a historical home is while some upgrades make the home more efficient and even more comfortable, it doesn’t necessarily mean they look right. The many white exterior features make the dun-colored brick look washed out.

Two years ago, my home contractor begin scraping the white paint, which clearly contained lead, off the original windows. Underneath was the color the windows had undoubtedly been painted at construction: a brownish red, often referred to as “oxblood.” Not only does it accentuate the reddish mortar, it also gives a much-needed richness to the brick.

New kitchen windows at Holly Christensen's house restore the "oxblood" trim, giving a much-needed richness to the brick. — The new windows restore the “oxblood” trim, giving a much-needed richness to the brick.

Meanwhile, the decades-old vinyl replacement windows had become so warped, they could only be opened and closed by a strong man with tools. The replacement windows needed replaced. This was the moment I decided that, with the mortgage nearly paid off, I would pay more for windows that honor the original Arts and Crafts design of the home.

Wooden Anderson Windows, baby, that’s what I’m talking about. The interior of the windows were factory stained to match the original frames. The exterior of the wooden windows, however, are clad in aluminum and installed with an aluminum casing, both of which can (for an upcharge, of course) be color matched.

As to finding contractors for a variety of jobs outside the scope of my home contractor, I use the social media site Nextdoor. When you join, you are connected to other Nextdoor members who live in your area. Ask people for a good painter, concrete company, housecleaner and, yes, window installer, and you will get several responses from satisfied customers. That’s how I found Jim Sutcliffe, owner of Windows, Doors and More, whose work I highly recommend.

Sutcliffe gave a chip paint from one of the original windows to Anderson Windows, who uses Sherwin Williams for color matching. The results are exterior window sashes in Sherwin Williams Manhattan Brown surrounded by casings of standard antique bronze.

The difference color can make is remarkable. I replaced 11 windows and whenever I look across the driveway from Cressler House at Dreisbach Houses new windows, I feel a small trill of satisfaction. It’s a feeling I hope to have over and again as this renovation continues.

This was first published in the Akron Beacon Journal on Sunday, March 3, 2024.

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Transforming my beloved family home into a jewel

January 31, 2024January 31, 2024 whoopsiepiggle2 Comments

I met Herman Dreisbach in February of 2003 when he was 88 years old. His wife of 60 years had died the previous February, and he was selling his house to move to Atlanta, where his son and daughter-in-law lived.

Once a tall man, Mr. Dreisbach’s upper back and neck stooped forward from osteoporosis; his slow gait belied muscles that had weakened with age and bones that ached.

Each of the three times I visited his house, the final time with the home inspector, I had small children with me. Unperturbed by youngsters touring his tidy home, Mr. Dreisbach comfortably chatted with them.

The last time we met, Mr. Dreisbach took my hand in both of his, and with tears in his eyes, he told me: “I hope you’ll be as happy in this house as we were.” He died nine months later.

I’ve now owned what we call Dreisbach House for over 20 years. My first three children spent the bulk of their childhoods in the home, and my fourth son was born there. Then, for several years, I lived with the father of my youngest two children in his home and rented out Dreisbach House.

Dreisbach House when I first rented it in 2011. (At the back of the driveway is Hoover, the world’s sweetest Sheltie, who died in 2016.)

No tenant kept the house as clean as I did. But I soon learned that messes can be cleaned and damages repaired. Still, my heart hurt when tenants were not gentle with the house.

Little expense was spared when a maternal uncle of Mr. Dreisbach built the house in 1909. The exterior walls of the home are two layers of brick, which is why to this day none of the stairs or floors creak. Like a manufactured cave, all that brick keeps the house, which has hot water heat and no air conditioning, remarkably cool in the summer and warm in the winter.

The Arts and Crafts interior includes quarter-sawn oak columns and panels, a fireplace with decorative tiles from a renowned turn-of-the-century manufacturer, multiple pocket doors and two original light fixtures. And because the home remained in one fastidious family for 94 years, it is in remarkable shape.

Dreisbach House shares a driveway with its next-door neighbor to the south. In 2014, I bought that house, too.

For more than 60 years, it belonged to Claire and Gloria Cressler. Claire had been a widower for three years when I first met him. Years later, he would die in my arms.

In 2020, I moved into what we call Cressler House. I decided to stop renting Dreisbach House when my most recent tenants moved out. I owe less than $8,000 on the mortgage and, like its first owner, that puts me in a position to remodel the home without sparing many expenses.

Now, a new thread will be added to the warp and weft of my byline throughout my years as a Beacon Journal columnist − the process of transforming my beloved family home, the Dreisbach House, into a jewel. These columns will include design choices and the progress of projects, but also the histories of the people who previously lived here, as well as my family’s history in these homes.

Column changes

I was hired in October of 2016 to write a parenting/family column for the Akron Beacon Journal. At the time, my eldest child was in college and my fifth (and youngest) child was in preschool. Those first years, I wrote mostly on parenting.

Letters from readers often compared me to syndicated parenting columnist John Rosemond. Older readers regularly complimented me on how similarly to Rosemond’s approach I parented, while younger readers wrote to say they admired how differently my parenting advice was to that of Rosemond’s. Go figure.

Throughout my time at the Beacon, I have often written columns that were pointedly political. In 2017, I explained why I, a mother of a child with Down syndrome, was opposed to the Down syndrome abortion ban passed by the Ohio legislature and signed by the governor. Just before that column ran, the Beacon’s editor told me I’d get a lot of negative emails over it, but also that he knew I could handle it.

I’ve gotten far worse emails since, particularly when I’ve written anything involving race. I know I’ve done something right when I’ve provoked the ire of bigots who take the time to let me know what they think − though rarely about what I’ve written. No, bigots like to deride me as a person and, almost always, what I look like.

Three of my children are now adults. The first two have multiple college degrees and full-blown careers. One is getting married later this year. My relationship with them all is understandably different than it was over seven years ago, and yet, two of my adult sons still call me almost every day.

As a result, the content of my columns has expanded to topics facing our community, which often are issues that directly affect families.

To best accommodate this array of storylines and opinions, my column has a new, and more appropriate, home in the print edition’s community section. Here, I can have columns that are political, others that are personal, and some that are the ins and outs of a major project.

I hope you’ll enjoy reading future columns as much as I will writing them.

This column first appeared in the Akron Beacon Journal on Sunday, January 21, 2024.