Just down the lane from where the folks are buried are the remains of an old house. That's not so unusual as it seems that abandoned houses are everywhere up here. But this one is a little different than most. It is (was) a stately Victorian, either Italianate or Second Empire style, that just doesn't seem to fit out here in the prairie. No, this is a place where conservative farm-folk would have built the huge family style house with big wrap around porches and solid, but not very interesting frames.
It is clearly a Seaton address, and I suppose someone somewhere knows something about it, but who they would be escapes me. Maybe if I'd asked more questions 30 years ago I'd have garnered more info, but most of my resources are gone now, so there we are.
You can see the center sag has begun which pretty much spells the end for this once beautiful lady. My mother once told me the saddest things are empty houses. They kept families warm, and enjoyed the things we all enjoy in our lives; get-togethers, celebrations of new borns and all the rest. For me, personally, an empty business is sadder. But that's for another day.
This is an ornate oblong window to go along with the porthol windows that sprinkle the upper story. Look at the woodwork above the lower window.
Some of the wood trim strips had some carvings as well.
This is a view from outside looking in. This gives us some idea of the inside window trim.
It looks like some scafolding was placed upstairs to do some kind of work, maybe that roof rot. They may have placed wome tin up there to staunch the rain and snow, but then gave up.
I don't know anything about home restoration, but it looks like this one is a gonner. It would take an awful lot of work and money, so that seems to be the decision made in some years past. This one is just waiting for a bulldozer or a lucky lightening strike to put it out of its misery.
There is a newer home next to it that is inhabited and if I had the inclination I'd saunder over one of these days to ask them if they have any history of the place. I'll put that on my to-do list on my next visit to Northlandia.
Suffice to say that at one time in the west-central part of Illinois this huge home stood four miles north of Seaton next to Candor cemetery, proud and with beautiful splendor. Who built it, and how they got their money remains a question. It is a house that belongs somewhere else; Pennsylvania coal, Galesburg railroad, West Virginia mining; but here it sits amid the swaying green corn and soybeans. It died a long time ago, waiting, like those buried next door to have a few words spoken over it as it is lowered into the ground, and, ultimately, forgotten.