Conclusion - Crittenden House and the Time Capsule

     The volunteers  got the trees off the house, I  bought window glass by the box, attached the electrical service back on, and three weeks later, it was rented again, to one of those crooked guys who drove up from Florida to make a killing off our tornado, getting work. He told me, “I’m a little short on cash right now, long on equipment, could I put this chain saw up for a security deposit? I’m going to be making a lot of money in the coming weeks.” I went for it. I don’t think he did much work, because a couple of days later, he called me, asked me to bring his truck to Hot Springs  so he could use it to bail himself  out of jail. I went for that too, and after a few weeks, he went home. Seems that new rule put in right after the tornado requiring that repairmen flocking in must have a permit, prove they are honest and upright, and that, plus his drinking habit, did him in. He called me a few weeks later, asked me if he would send me his rent due, would I send him his chain saw. Told him I would if he would also send shipping money for his chain saw. Never heard from him again. I still have that chain saw. Has not run in years.

     Have you noticed that “the law” appears quite a lot in telling about Crittenden House? Well, I’m not near done yet. In 1998, Barbara and I were traveling a year in an RV. The last thing I did before leaving town and handing the rentals over to Bud Reeder was rent Crittenden House out to a Mexican Framing crew for a few months. A month into our trip, I got an early morning call on our emergency phone. Son in law Mickey, then a paramedic, had been the first responder to Crittenden house after a fight over a woman broke out at the front end of the house, traveled through the house to the back door, spilled out into the yard, and one man picked up a handy concrete block and busted the other man’s head in. I was far away, never got the official version, but scuttlebutt has it he was shipped back to Mexico, not being a legal citizen. When we got back to town, many months later, there was a concrete block lying in the back yard. Surely, that could not be the murder weapon. I feel certain that one has to be on file, up in the evidence room. But it sure has some curious stains on it.

     Along with a lot of good, clean renters, Crittenden House brought me quite a few occasions to practice up on my “dirty mess man” skills. One case comes to mind. When a renter moved out, I discovered the back bedroom had been used as a dog pen. For some time. That’s bad, but I’ve seen that a lot. Nothing noteworthy here, in itself. The problem was, his bagged garbage seems to have been placed in that room right down in there amongst’ em’ for a long time. That makes for a very bad combo. A big challenge for the dirty mess man. I have used Reeder’s hired cleaners some, but I never sent them into that kind of mess, if I was in town. But then, I’ll admit. I do travel a lot.

     Though I’ve relied on the bad side of Crittenden house to make an interesting story, there were a lot of good things along the way. One good renter I want to tell you about was the very last, and though she only stayed a short time before the house sold, finally, I think she was the best. When a house is for sale, renters are made aware of it before they move in, and assured of 30 day’s notice. But, most houses are bought as a rent house, and they usually stay on. This time, Crittenden house had served 104 years, and she was very tired. House ages seem to correspond to human ages pretty closely. I wish I had known Crittenden house, when she was young and beautiful, clear fresh water running through her pipes and drains. But in that case, I would still have been making payments on her to the end. I told that last renter the day it sold she would have to move, and I dreaded that. She was in her early twenties, a sweet person. She was working two jobs, also helping her mom and younger sisters, and saving to go back to HSU.  I had been saving her another apartment, a higher priced one,  but told her I would give her a month’s free rent, reduce the rent to what she was used to. She took the whole thing well, with a sense of humor like I knew she would. But my other apartment had a shower, and she had became addicted to that huge claw foot tub in Crittenden house, and she finally found another apartment that suited her needs better. So, sadly, she went for it instead, and I lost one of my best renters ever.

      I borrowed a trailer and helped her move. I also told her, no need to clean up at all when she moved.
 I’m about to start tearing things out, and making a royal mess. But I knew she would. And she did. It’s fitting, I think, for a once-beautiful house that has served so long, like Crittenden house, to begin the process of dying as clean as it’s ever been since I've owned it. I will always remember that hardworking, wonderful girl/woman. If I had the chance to choose a second daughter, in addition to the wonderful one I have, I would choose her.

      The front room in Crittenden house has a beautiful built in long bench, with bookshelves on each end. The whole thing stretches along the entire wall. The first thing she mentioned regarding what she will miss most was that bench. I told her she could have it, if she could get it out. Her friend tried, but gave up. It would have to be torn up to get it out. I’ve studied that bench a lot, as I scavenged the building. I decided today I would have to sacrifice the shelves on one end to get the bench out. An antique buyer from near Conway, seeing pics of it, said he wanted to take it out, piece by piece, reassemble it out and sell it. But he never showed up.  I started  tearing off the top right shelf. When it came off, I discovered a three inch deep, hidden and sealed pocket underneath. It was totally sealed with layers upon layers of paint, many of which I applied. The dust that rose up, and the air that I breathed, as I looked in, was just different. It had been in there for a very long time.  I saw a stack of papers in the bottom. Many of them turned to dust as I touched them.  I picked up an envelope that was more sturdy. It was a church collection envelope, stamped with the date, Dec. 16, 1917.  It’s stated purpose:

Weekly Offering

Arkadelphia Methodist Church, South

Arkadelphia, Ark

For:

Pastor’s Salary

Current Expenses

Connectional  Claims

     To my amazement, two items present were obviously not nearly as old. One was a baseball trading card for Mike Schmidt, who played for the Phillies in the 70’s, born in 1948. Also present was a payday advance receipt, made out to Mathis, with no year date. The business was located at 1730 Pine Street, Arkadelphia, Arkansas 71923  501-246-CASH. The amount was $33. My best guess for the late arrivals would be that the time capsule was not always sealed as tightly with paint as it is at present, and slipped in through the cracks. I have no other possible explanations. I applied many, many coats of white paint to it myself, over twenty years. Just today, in another hidden space under the other shelf unit, I found business cards. If I ever decide to go into that business, I’ll be stocked up. The business advertised asbestos products. Along with those, there was a Malvern High School graduation announcement envelope, dated 1920.  Crittenden House, in your death you leave me with a puzzle I will be thinking about for a long time.

Yesterday was a big day in the death process of Crittenden House. Lisa Green, the owner of the Blue Suede Shoes Antique Mall in Little Rock, showed up with a very large trailer and two hard workers, and we pulled out all the windows sashes, 50 or so, along with the doors, fire place mantles, door headers, shelves, and every other old thing she could load on that trailer. Soon, once beautiful parts of Crittenden house will be adorning houses all over Little Rock. Makes me feel better, somehow. Parts of Crittenden House will remain alive, and totally beautiful again, for a long time to come. As Jimmy Bolt requested, I’ll soon present the keys to Crittenden house to him when I finish with the house. “But Jimmy,” I’ll say to him, “You see, she has no doors – or locks -”

     The beautiful, almost knot free planks trimming the doors, windows, and making up the baseboards, were a problem for me. Beautiful lumber, but I really had no market for them. Trying not to reason this out too much, I pretty well pulled them all off, pulled the nails. Day after day. To date, I have not sold one of them. But they are far too beautiful to go to the dump. Every crack and crevice in all my storage buildlings are now crammed full of beautiful lumber. For what, I don’t know. I’ll probably let my kids and grandkids deal it someday. When I left the house today, only two items remained for me to deal with. The beautiful clawfoot tubs. Monday, the last day, they will have to go, one way or another. And, they weigh about 300 pounds. Each. Everybody who sees them, or pics of them, just love them. They oooh and aaah, talk about how they would love to have them. But no one offers to buy them, or deal with their 300 pound bulk.

     Crittenden house and I have been through many hard times, in our old age. But there have been good times, also. She has always been my worst looking rental property, yet she always was easy to rent. She was cheap, and provided cover and shelter for many who were just one step removed from the streets. Poor people need a place to call home, also. And remember, not just everyone can look out their window when they wake up, and see our beautiful city Hall, or see Jimmy Bolt, our best city manager ever, at his window, gazing out across his domain. Rest well, Crittenden House. I hope you love being spread around all over Little Rock, Though parts of you will not be so lucky, resting peacefully in a nice landfill. Just remember, in your passing, you will be making room for a nice new parking lot! Now, who can ask for more than that?

Thanks for Reading!