There is something about this time of year that makes things almost magical. The house seems to come alive in the fall, especially with all the visitors that stop by. Some are here to take a tour of the house while others are looking for information about Bluffton. We are constantly kept on our toes with the start of our busy season.
Everyone once in awhile, the door chime doesn’t ding and the house gets quiet. That is when you stop spinning and sit down, and that is when you look around you. Most of the time you don’t realize how special of place you are standing in, but then it creeps up on you.
The walls of this house have so many stories and if you listen hard enough you can hear them. If you listen, the walls will tell you about the little girl that died in the house when she was around 4 years old. Her death certificate said it was because of teething, but more than likely it was because of an infection. If you close your eyes and concentrate, you can almost hear the laughter of a little girl and her footsteps as she runs through the hallway.
If you listen, the walls will tell you about the dangers of war. If you close your eyes and concentrate, you can hear the chaos outside and feel the heat of the homes burning down next to you. Then you can hear the shouts of the men as they rummage through the house, taking an valuables with them–including a piano.
If you listen, the walls will tell you about the dark time when there were no families living the house. It was too quiet, too lifeless… but then there was life again. Another family moved in, and brought life back to the house. You can hear the shouts of happy children, toys being played with, and the gossip of their mothers.
This house has many stories, some are still waiting to be told. All you have to do is listen.