Happy Anniversary!

June 14th was the eighth anniversary of our closing on "The Lakehouse". It was also the eighty-fourth birthday of Fred, the seller. So Larry and I showed up at the lawyer's office with a Sesame Street birthday cake we bought at Bi-Lo, kiddy paper products, and a gallon of sweet tea to celebrate. We sang "Happy Birthday" to Fred after we all signed the papers, and Fred cried with happiness. He and Marilyn have both "passed" now, but their spirit continues to live on here. They were special people and we made them very happy when we bought this property: a place they put fifty years of love into creating, and raised their daughters on in summer.

Did I tell y'all the story of buyin' this place? Well, the January after Larry and I got married, during what is now our annual Christmas holiday trip down here, Larry's brother and wife challenged us. They said, "We'll get the pontoon boat if y'all get the house on Lake Murray to keep it at. Billy, Larry and Libby grew up with many fond memories of fishing with their father on the lake." We said, "Fine", and then a month later, they bought a boat. So, the search for land was on.

We christened the new boat with a ride around the lake looking for "For Sale" signs and realtors. We found Wilder Realty, contacted the Chapin, SC office, and connected with an agent to work with. I can't remember his name now, so let me just call him Bubba for simplicity sake. We met with Bubba one morning, told him what we were looking for and he presented a number of options for us to consider. One of those options was "The Lakehouse".

He described this property to us as fenced-in and owned by an ornery old coot, who kept the gate locked and was very particular who he let in. Bubba tried several times to get the key to show us the place, but could never hook up with Fred. We did not have a very good impression of this property, so we just asked Bubba to give us a list of properties from lowest to highest price to let us explore on our own. We would get back to him if we found something. We wanted to see for ourselves what we would get for our money and how it differed from land values up north.

We rode all around the lake with our map marked for the properties we had a stack of listings for. Once we had seen everything on the list, I said, "Why don't we just take a ride over to that place Bubba keeps pushing on us and just take a look for ourselves." When we got there, it was a very long dark, dirt road with woods on both sides. Half the property was fenced in with what Larry called "hog fencing": like "chicken wire", but the squares are about four inches, instead of one inch, supported by rotting wood posts (more like cut tree trunks). Then there was a utility road (just a cleared path wide enough to fit a truck for pole repair work) across the width and the rest of the property was fenced in with chain-link. The road dead-ended at the lake, and the gate was about a hundred yards from the end on the left. The fence had barbed wire along the top and all I could think of was "Stalag 13" from Hogan's Heroes on TV. No way were we going to live on "Stalag 13". So, we let go of the property and moved on.

We went home to Massachusetts after having no success in our search, and in April, Libby called to say she found an old farm house we should look at. So we flew down and saw this lovely old house on a pristine piece of property. But we also realized that it was at the beginning of a cul-de-sac that had yet to be developed. It was going to become a "gated community" with lots of rules, and we would be looking at all these huge houses' front doors and have very little lake view or access. Plus, the price was over our budget.

Billy said Bubba had contacted him and when he heard we were in town, he said he had to meet with us. He had the keys to "The Lakehouse" in his truck and we just had to see the inside of the property before we turned it down. I was just getting annoyed with him. So, when we met at his office, we again requested the latest "list" and agreed to let him show us the offending property. I said, "We have lots to look at, so we'll just do a quick look and move on." I said this very curtly, and he understood.

We followed him on this long drive around the lake to that dark, dirt road. I was getting impatient because everyplace here is far away. We hadn't gotten a hundred feet down the road when we had to stop because a tree had fallen across it. He and Larry had to move the tree out of the way, and I just saw this as a bad omen that we were right to assume this was not the property for us. My annoyance at this huge waste of time was growing now.

Once we got to the offensive-looking gate, we waited impatiently for Bubba to open it. Let's just get this over with! As we drove across the threshhold of the gate, I was flooded with a feeling; a premonition: "Oh my God, this is it!"

"No," I argued with myself." "This can't be it. We haven't even seen it yet."

"This is it, I'm telling you, just wait. This is it. Oh my God!"

I continued this argument silently in my head until we parked at the garage: a large metal building we also call "the shed". Larry and I got out of the car, walked to the point and I turned to him and said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He said he was, so we said to Bubba, "We'll take it and we'll pay the asking price." Bubba was so dumbfounded, he said, "Wow. I didn't expect to hear that. I don't even know what to do next!" We all laughed because we hadn't even seen the inside of the house yet. But we both knew in our hearts that this was our property. It didn't matter what the house looked like.

Once we looked all around, our tour only confirmed our gut feelings that we had to have this property. It had everything we needed: a garage, a pump-house, a dock, a boat ramp and a three-bedroom; two full bathroom (one with a jacuzzi tub) house with open floor plan and plenty of room for our families. It had a fireplace and was low maintenance. It just needed to be cleaned, but we could move right in. Fred and Marilyn were old now and had not used the place for five years. Their daughters were grown and none of their families used it anymore either, so lots of tender loving care was needed, but that's all. We were so excited that we were not going to have to figure out how to build a house long-distance.

Bubba called us a few days later, and said that Fred would not agree to sell us the property until he met us. They had had a doctor who wanted to build a mansion on the property, but it wasn't wide enough. The land is one-half of a long-narrow peninsula. He had a buyer who renigged on the deal and he lost money. And he had developers come in who had marked trees they would cut down. Fred and Marilyn spent their entire married life building this land and everything on it from scratch, so there was no way he was going to let a developer ruin it's country charm and homey feel. Fred and his boss bought the peninsula together. They put a four-foot anchor fence down the middle, drew up a deed agreeing this was the property line, then flipped a coin to see who got what half. Then they burned down the entire place and planted and built from the beginning; hauling soil and sand in one wheelbarrow at a time. Fred built the hundred-foot boat ramp ten bags of concrete at a time over many weekends. This was a summer place for he and Marilyn. They owned a house in Columbia.

So we agreed on a morning to meet, and we all piled into the boat, including Larry's mother, brother and his entire family; me and Larry. It was a very windy day and there were two to three foot waves all the way across. We got soaked, and I commented, that my mother would never have gone on this ride when I looked back at the scared look on Larry's mother's face. Poor thing. What a trouper. Larry's sister and her whole family drove there to meet us. We arrived at the dock, got Larry's mother on it, and Fred came walking down to meet us, saying we couldn't stay here. He thought we were interlopers. He was very nice, but stern and clear. He said he was meeting people any minute, and we assured him we were the ones he was meeting.

We all shook hands and proceeded to get our separate tours. Fred took Bubba and the men on the "utility" tour, while Marilyn took me and Larry's mother, plus the other women on the "garden" tour and a tour of the house. They both told us stories from their own perspectives about buying the property, building it up, and raising their children on it every summer. They showed us their dog, Droopy's, grave, that still exists, and told us about life on the lake: pro and con. Marilyn talked about fishing by herself in a little boat she puttered around the cove, and Fred warned us about keeping the pump turned off because boaters would invade, leave the water running to drain the well and break in. Marilyn lost a fish mounted on the wall that meant a great deal to her, and Henry next door (now also passed from a crack overdose [that's another story]) also lost diving equipment.

By the end of the day, Fred and Marilyn told us we passed our interview and agreed to sell us the place. We assured them we planned to retire and live on it, and keep it mostly the same. This plan made them both very happy. So, at the closing tears of joy were shed, and we felt a warm feeling in our hearts at making this couple bound for assisted living very happy. The birthday party was also a nice touch and was much appreciated.

We visited Fred and Marilyn at the "Home" for as long as they both lived as if they were relatives of ours. I always brought Marilyn a bouquet of "her Camilias", because they bloom all year long. When each one passed, their daughters called us first to let us know as if we were related to them. We have not been able to connect with their daughter who lives in the mansion across the lake from us (we used that house as a landmark to know we were in the right place before we knew it belonged to Fred and Marilyn's daughter). Marilyn tried to convince her daughter not to buy that huge house, and just shook her head whenever she talked about it. We chuckled at the family dynamic. Life is just too busy now. But, we remain hopeful that we will hook up with them someday. She and her husband are very nice and have a boat. She helps her daughter run their flower shop on the other side of town, and we check in by cell phone periodically.

We are so happy we bought this haven of peace, and feel very blessed to share it with family and friends. I bought a blank book in that first year and started a "Lakehouse Journal". I encourage everyone who stays here to write in it, and enjoy reading about their experiences and feelings for the place when we can't be here. It truly is a sanctuary for all who visit.