Photo by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash

I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to attend the Redlands Historical Glass Museum auction some weeks ago. I wandered through the coolness of the host’s dark, ancient house. The air was calm, but gently stirred by the other guests attending the function.  We all moved quietly and carefully, navigating spaces between ancient furnishings, books and each other.  Long tables were set out with small delicate glass dishes that sparkled and caught the faint rays of light permeating the room. Beautiful antique furniture, carved carefully and with love, stood sturdily and elegantly in their places.  The dark wood glowing and emanating a warm and earthy smell with hints of oil and polish.  The walls reached upward toward lofty ceilings coated with glossy dark paint, the color of an overripe strawberry.  I gazed upward at the vaulted ceilings coated with ancient plaster. Small rivulets of cracks twisted indiscriminately across the palette of plaster. I knew the air was cooler up there, because I could feel it circling softly around my head.  Burnished mirrors hung strategically around the room to reflect  light that managed to make a path into the dim room. This was salvage.  Preservation.

When I moved into my old house over a decade ago, I was entranced by the thought of waking up everyday surrounded by old wood, wavy glass, carved molding and soft wood floors. The essence of many lives lived, were within the walls and permeated the old structure.  The home had been well cared for and loved and that’s why she stood so solid and still as the decades past.  Her joints and fittings holding strong and true.  Her foundation rising  rock solid from the old farming dirt she stood upon.  She had been cared for well.  This was preservation.

Part of preservation is salvaging.  It’s hard to find new parts for old houses of the same quality from hundreds of years ago.    If you get into the process, it’s important to connect with resources and delve into it.  Preservationists are a unique breed.  They usually love history and everything left that’s still tangible and connected with it.  Every part is valuable, even old nails, fittings and broken tile.  You never know where that odd piece might fit.  To connect with another likeminded salvager is a joy. To know another person that understands the joy of finding that perfect piece or working on something until it becomes just what you need to complete a project.   Salvagers often pass pieces back and forth just for the joy of sharing a find or finding it a safe home.

It’s not easy work.  Old house parts are musty, dirty and old chemicals often cling to the pieces.  The parts of an old house are put together so well that it’s difficult to wrench pieces free.  Besides using brute strength, you have to use grace and coordination to make sure you twist and pull just so, or the piece maybe fatally deranged beyond repair. You must pry and  tap with just the right amount of pressure as not to leave marks in  old wood grain or on old metal pieces. Why do it?  Why expose yourself to hot old houses caked in grime and toxic chemicals from the past?  Because beneath it all lies the treasure and a legacy.  A legacy of craftsmanship that stemmed from people being proud of their trade and working hard in every sense of the word. Craftsman, who worked with their hands and crude tools to create beautiful and incomparable pieces of a caliber that is little seen today.

Among my travels perusing the various local events that offered to lovers of history  I ended up at the Peter Weber House in Riverside the other day. I had some vintage light fixtures I’d found abandoned in my alley and thought they may come of use to  a local restorer. The Old Riverside Foundation manages the salvage program there;  they  have a great collection of salvage and I needed a front door too.  The Weber house is a work of art and a fine example of old world craftsmanship.  Weber, a local architect; who built his home from scratch in the 1930’s, created artful patterns using brick and carved wood.  Every inch of the house, from floor to ceiling has a creative flair. Many of the designs are Moorish in origin and inspired by his travels abroad.  He brought back a treasure trove of design inspiration which he incorporated into his home. Stars carved into wooden panels,  painted turquoise, coral and green, punctuated the panels in strategic locations.   It’s a tiny home, but completely magical in form. As I walked through the home, inspiration hit me and I tried to picture myself carving intricate wood paneling and placing brick in unique patterns to build my walls. Luckily, I had the morning free to daydream and take my time walking through the home.    On the way out, I picked up a really cool bumper sticker for a dollar to help save the Riverside Chinatown archaeological site.  This was a perfect morning to me, this was preservation.