That Green House

That Green House Two years prior to buying our first house in Ashland, Anne and I had to rent. Our first rental was a wonderful townhouse in a nice development Ashland, walking distance from where we eventually bought our first home 2 years later. Our plan was to stay in this townhouse until we found the right house, then move when the time was right. The location was great and the rent was reasonable. Unfortunately, our landlord came upon tough financial times and had to sell, and sell quickly. So, we had to get out on pretty short notice. This was a time period when it was a bit difficult to find a good place to live at a reasonable rate, so there wasn't much time to be picky. After living in that roomy townhouse, we got somewhat spoiled by some of the amenities afforded to us, like forced hot air and air conditioning, as well as a garage under 2 floors of living space. We had combined our belongings not too long before this, so we did need a place with some storage, even if it didn't provide enough space for all of our furniture, etc. As soon as we could find a closely comparable place to live, we had to grab it or we'd be forced to stay in a hotel with all our stuff out on the lawn. We looked and looked and looked and looked, and no matter what we saw, the price to rent was not just too high for our income. We were getting very discouraged and losing hope quickly.

Then, an ad pops into the paper one day, for a 3-bedroom home with an unfinished basement in Bellingham, a small town about 8 miles southwest of Ashland and close to the highway, which would help in Anne's daily commute to work in Boston. And the price was right where we needed it to be, too. Wow, we had to get over there and see this place, and fast! It was a Saturday morning and we were ready to go in a heartbeat. We race out there and realize on the way that Hartford Ave is really Route 126, so we know one thing about the house already. It's on a very busy street. Well, we're thinking we had to see it anyway, even though we dreaded the thought of living on a main street like that, just for traffic noise and possible crime. As we close in on number 178 Hartford Ave, we're realizing that we're running out of room very fast as we approach the intersection where Route 126 turns left towards Rhode Island. This intersection housed The Home Depot and a bunch of strip mall stores, gas station, and 2 restaurants. Ugh, I looked though the traffic lights and saw one house just past the lights, after the left turn. I’m thinking that it must be the one, but hoping it wasn’t at the same time. I was right and I was appalled. Yeah, it was a 3-bedroom home, and not an apartment, but it was painted in the most hideous green color. This color had to be put on this house to spite someone. It was a green that had to be seen to be believed and we were about to enter it.

All we could think was that this is exactly what we need right now, but how could we possibly swallow THAT much pride? The guy was there waiting for us, so we pulled in to take a look. I think we were the first ones there too. There was no garage, but we'd lived without a garage before, so we'd manage without it. We wanted privacy and room. He walks us through for a look around and it looked like a handyman had just recently remodeled the entire place, but used all the cheapest doors, cabinets, fixtures, trim, flooring and so forth. At least it LOOKED new anyway. The backyard was a weird setup with a 2' high wall running through it, stepping up towards the neighbor's property, so we couldn't tell who's yard was who's.

We then hear several car doors closing outside, so we knew more potential renters were arriving and we'd have to make a decision soon, before someone else says yes. We head down into the unfinished basement, where the washer & dryer hookups were. It was kind of dark, damp and dingy, with spider webs here and there. We never got a hint of that homey feeling, but had to seriously consider committing to this because we were running out of time. The funny thing about it was that everyone who came in left just as quick. We noticed several cars pull over and then take off, knowing many left just based on the color of the house. I mean, who would want to become the laughing stock of Bellingham, not to mention anyone you knew. It has no character or charm at all. It was a perfectly boring rectangle with basic windows and looked like it belonged in a FEMA park. The house was also located just past a main intersection, so quiet it was not. We argued back and forth and then finally succumbed to our own shared pressure to move. We took it! We agreed to live in the ugliest house in America, a sacrifice we were willing to make for the future of our marriage. Right.

&l t;font size="3" face="times new roman,times"> We moved in about a week later, arranging things as best we could and loading all the rest into the basement. We noticed a strange water line on the walls of the basement, up a few feet, but didn't really make anything of it. We didn't notice it during the walk-through, because there was only one light bulb working at the time. As we screwed in the rest of the light bulbs and lit up the entire wide open space, we noticed why he only had one working that day. It was pretty scary, spider webs everywhere and remnants of a flood at one time. We find out later that the basement had completely flooded a year earlier when a pipe burst, but because no was living in the house for the past 12 months, the water just sat there continuously. I guess the house was abandoned and this new landlord bought it for an investment, which explains the look of the handyman special. We would eventually find spiders down there that were bigger than we'd ever seen before and were afraid to kill them, just in case we failed. We feared they would come after us in the middle of the night. I played ice hockey back then, so after each game I would carry my hockey bag down into the basement and lay my equipment out to dry. One night before a game I was in the locker room getting my stuff on and one of those 8 legged monsters crawled out of my bag. I almost died as I warned everyone to watch out for it as it made its way to freedom. Someone else killed it, thankfully. I then dumped everything out of the bag in search of any tagalongs. None were found, and from that night on, I always zippered my bag up tight after emptying it in the basement after a game. The one thing about this spider story that stuck with me and gave me the chills for weeks was the possibility of that spider crawling out of the bag as I was carrying it on my shoulders from the parking lot all the way to the locker room that night. This thing was huge!

Getting back to the main story here, it seemed that this house was more popular than we could have imagined - a landmark of sorts. We first learned this when ordering a pizza from a place 2 miles away. When ordering, I gave them our address (178 Hartford Ave), and to get a sense of its location on Hartford Ave, because this main street was so long, the guy says "Are you in that green house up there?" Not, “Are you near The Home Depot”, but "Are you in that green house?". It seemed odd, but I told Anne and we had a great laugh about it. As time went on we would occasionally run into people who once lived in Bellingham, be it friends or total strangers, and they would always ask "Where abouts in Bellingham?" ; As we described where we lived, with landmarks, etc. and always sure to leave out the fact that we lived in a green house, we would always hear "Oh, you don't mean that green house, do you?" It began to feel more and more demoralizing with each person we talked to. Then one time we were at a car dealership about 15 miles away applying for a car loan, and the guy sees our address and asks "Where abouts on Hartford Ave?" We waited as long as possible, told him it was near The Home Depot, and he says right away "Not that green house?" And it is said with such astonishment, like how could anyone live in that dump? And what an embarrassment with the green and all. We eventually found it easier to just come right with it and say “We live in that green house on Hartford Ave” and everyone always seemed to know it. It was the strangest thing, like another Twilight Zone episode.

Well, after months and months of these types of incidences, we had about had it and did everything we could not bring up the fact that we lived in Bellingham. It seemed to work and we never had it happen again. After many months there, we finally said good by to "that green house" in May of 1998 and thankfully moved into our long awaited new home in Ashland. What a relief to be rid of those spiders and all that humiliation. One night a few months later we were buying something in Sears at the Natick Mall and they were offering the old 10% off if we applied for a new Sears card. Well, what the heck we thought. So I had to show my license or something, and the 178 Hartford Ave address was still on it. Just hadn’t had time to change it. Without hesitation, as if on Candid Camera, the cashier sees the address and says "You don't live in that green house do you?"