November 2017. Closing the Duluth Chapter: The House that Built Me

November 2017. Closing the Duluth Chapter: The House that Built Me

I wish somebody would have told me babe
The some day, these will be the good old days
All the love you won't forget
And all these reckless nights you won't regret
Someday soon, your whole life's gonna change
You'll miss the magic of these good old days

- Macklemore & Ke$ha

Adam, his brother, Alek, and I are driving down central entrance, sitting three wide in an old white Ford pickup listening to Don McLean’s “American Pie” and singing loudly. The seats are a red plush and smell like your grandparent’s old Buick. Alek has recently purchased this beauty and one of my favorite Duluth memories is riding with all of us in the front seat together.

As I write this, 1701 is being emptied out. She is exhaling us and our possessions and breathing in small breaths of fall air and dust bunnies that we will sweep up before the new buyer moves in. This house has been the most sacred and beautiful place I have ever lived.

Each morning I wake up to the ships coming into the bay and see the sunlight glinting off of Lady Superior. In a few short steps I can be in the woods of Chester Park, smelling pine and listening to waterfalls and Duke panting as he runs along the trail searching for squirrels. Six blocks down is our beloved Lake Walk, where Duke and I rollerblade and bicycle most days in the summer so we can cool off in the lake as soon as we get too sweaty. Our neighbors live just across the street, now our dear friends after 4 years.

And this house built us—built our relationship, our marriage, formed friendships, saw loss and pain in the passing of our grandparents, and rejoiced at the addition of a new puppy, rejoiced when babies came to visit with family, and welcomed friends who were added to the family without a second thought. Countless meals were served around our table built oversized so we could share fellowship with many and often. So many fires blazed in the living room while we warmed ourselves and toasted marshmallows together.

As we finish sweeping the last room, Adam and I lock hands and walk from room to room recalling our best memories, ending exactly where we started: on the floor in the kitchen. When I moved in we spent hours sitting on the floor before there was new paint or even furniture. We ate meals on the floor, we talked about our plans for the house, and for our newly budding relationship. After we moved chairs in, friends and family still gathered in the kitchen, and even sat on the floor at times. We sit now together, with our backs to the wall as tears run down our cheeks looking at all we have accomplished in this beautiful place and trying to figure out how to let her go.

We are saying goodbye to an old friend now. And while the memories will last forever, I won’t always be able to recall how the tile feels cool as I step from the staircase into the foyer on a spring morning to greet our mail carrier. I won’t remember how the fire crackles and causes the light to dance on the living room windows and smells of sweet smoke and charred wood. I’m afraid I will forget the creek of the French doors with a few glass panes missing or the sounds of the ships signaling the bridge for entry. For nearly 100 years 1701 has existed on this corner on the hill and Duke has made it his priority to spend 3 of those years perched in his yard holding court over the intersection of 17^th Ave. and E. 6^th Street. 

We have not loved every second of owning an old house—surely we had some stressful times—but we have loved 1701 for all she has given us. We have treasured our home and Duluth, our city.

I look back and these have most definitely been the good days. Friends and family and our favorite places have surrounded us to the point where we were spoiled these last few years. And now we begin a new journey.

Step one is nearly complete. 1701 will have a new owner and a new story to write. We will say goodbye and start a new story. Adam will be unshackled from a desk and be using his hands to create beautiful homes and other masterpieces. And Duke and I will figure out how to survive in the big city.







It has never been for us, the big noisy place of so many people and roads and cars and chaos. After all, with our old souls, we have never been bright lights kind of people and thrive best in open spaces outdoors. With a promising job offer and the chance to pursue a dream, Adam is running towards a goal and I am overjoyed at his opportunity.

I will miss the good old days—these days I surely didn’t realize were the best days of our lives thus far. I will miss my city. I will miss my home. But I will lean into this unfamiliar place, into a decision we’ve made painstakingly but together. We’ve said our goodbyes and now we open ourselves to a new world of hellos.