Historians and Fans Are Racing To Save Homes Sold by Sears

Marilyn Raschka spends many of her weekends driving around unfamiliar neighborhoods, knocking on doors and talking her way into strangers' basements. Once downstairs, she breaks out her flashlight and shines it along exposed beams, hunting for a letter and some numbers that are each no bigger than a thumbprint. The 61-year-old resident of Hartford, Wis., is part of a small cadre of historians and passionate amateurs on a mission to identify and protect homes made by Sears, Roebuck and Co. About 70,000 to 100,000 of them were sold through Sears catalogs from 1908 to 1940. Distressed that the houses are falling victim to the recent boom in teardowns and renovations, their fans are scouring neighborhoods across the country, snapping pictures and sometimes braving snakes and poison ivy to poke around basements and attics for the telltale stamps that mark the lumber in most of the catalog homes. Precut houses ordered from a Sears catalog were shipped by boxcar in 30,000 pieces -- including shingles, nails and paint -- and assembled by a local carpenter or by the buyers themselves. Styles ranged from the elaborate, nearly $6,000 Magnolia, to the three-room, no-bath Goldenrod, sold in 1925 for $445. (Outhouses sold separately.) One of the larger Sears models, constructed in Takoma Park, Md., sold last year for about $900,000, according to a local real-estate agent. The homes caught on as the U.S. population grew and Americans began to move away from crowded city centers. Their popularity also was driven by the rise of company towns. In Carlinville, Ill., for example, Standard Oil ordered homes for its mine workers, 152 of which are still standing. Sears also encouraged sales to families with steady wages but little in savings by financing up to 100% of some of the homes. But many homeowners were forced to default during the Depression, and sales came to an end in 1940. Like some of the die-hard hunters, Ms. Raschka herself lives in a Sears home, a 1928 Mitchell model. "My passion is to find my house's long-lost sisters and brothers," she says. Some Sears-home buffs are like bird-watchers, seeking a feeling of accomplishment from spotting a rare style and matching it to one of the hundreds of examples in old Sears catalogs. Nostalgia is a big part of it, too: Interest in the homes, many of which are bungalows and other modest styles, is partly a backlash against the wave of supersized subdivisions and the cropping up of so-called McMansions in many old neighborhoods. The mail-order houses, many of which had big porches and were made from high-quality materials like early-growth cypress, were less expensive than architect-designed houses at the time, and were often all working-class people could afford. Because they were typically a family's first home -- and because they were often a do-it-yourself project for buyers -- the houses, enthusiasts say, are emblematic of the American dream. Even if a house does match a picture in an old Sears catalog, it could be a later rip-off by a local builder -- or a popular style that Sears emulated in its designs. Inside the house, hints like Sears-labeled woodwork can also be misleading, because Sears sold such things separately. One way to tell: a stamp of a letter and a three-digit number on beams, which were marked to facilitate assembly. Measuring the space between studs, or support posts, can be another clue in verifying a Sears home, especially in an area with a lot of Sears imitations, according to Kathryn Holt Springston, a 53-year-old semiretired social historian with the Smithsonian Institution. The studs of older non-Sears houses in the Washington, D.C. area are often 22 to 24 inches apart, she says, compared with about 15 inches in Sears models. Article Source: Sara Schaefer Munoz From The Wall Street Journal Online - Click here for the full article. Appraisal , Real Estate , Appraiser , Illinois , Realtor , Home Inspection