In the quiet, tree-lined outskirts of a historic town, hidden behind a veil of tangled ivy and decades of dust, stood a house that time had all but forgotten. Built in 1887, the structure once represented grandeur and pride—a hallmark of Victorian architecture with its sweeping gables, intricate wooden carvings, and tall, arched windows that let light dance across the floors like scattered gems. But in recent years, it had slipped into an era of silent decay. The roof sagged ominously, the porch drooped like a weary sigh, and its foundation creaked under the weight of a century’s neglect.
Many had passed it by, eyeing its peeling paint and weather-worn frame with a mixture of sadness and resignation. The house was widely considered a lost cause. Structural inspectors labeled it dangerous. Real estate agents didn’t even bother listing it in catalogs. Even urban explorers—those curious souls drawn to abandoned places—were advised not to enter, as the floorboards were known to give way, and some upper levels teetered toward collapse.
But where most saw despair, Jim and Jean Leaman saw history. Where others felt fear, they felt fascination. They weren’t property moguls or professional restorers. They were simply passionate locals with a love for heritage and a soft spot for storytelling—the kind of people who saw homes not just as walls and roofs, but as vessels for dreams, memories, and generations of life.
It began with a walk—one of many the Leamans took through their town. Passing the house on a warm spring day, Jean paused in front of the crumbling gate.
“You know,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “this place has good bones.”
Jim chuckled. “It has bones, alright. Half of them look broken.”
But Jean was serious. That very evening, the couple looked up historical records. They discovered that the house had been built during the height of the Victorian boom by a clockmaker named Elias Draycott. Draycott was known not just for his timepieces but also for his deep involvement in the design of his home. Every corner had a purpose, every carving a story. Over the decades, the house had passed through several owners—some who cared, some who didn’t—and by the 1980s, it had been abandoned altogether.
Despite warnings from engineers and disapproval from friends, Jim and Jean made the decision that would define the next chapter of their lives: they bought the house.
The Beginning of a Grand Undertaking
Restoration began with assessment. The first professional they called in said flatly, “Tear it down.” The next two echoed the sentiment. But the Leamans weren’t seeking permission—they were seeking a plan.
And so they got to work. For five long years, the house was more construction zone than residence. At first, it was overwhelming. Every floorboard they pulled up revealed another problem. Rot had invaded beams. Mold thrived in corners. Entire portions of the upper floors had to be temporarily dismantled and rebuilt.
They tackled it one room at a time. The couple lived in a small trailer out back during the early months, spending their days salvaging original pieces and their nights researching period-correct materials.
Jean took on the daunting task of restoring the stained glass windows that had once glowed like jewels in the sunlight but now sat cracked and dusty. Jim, with the patience of a craftsman, worked on the floors. The home would ultimately feature five different types of wood, all sourced ethically and chosen to represent different parts of the house’s history.
One of the most breathtaking decisions the couple made was to stay true to the home’s original soul, while also incorporating elements of fantasy and storytelling. They were both lifelong readers, with a particular fondness for stories like Harry Potter, The Secret Garden, and Great Expectations. That influence found its way into the restoration in subtle and powerful ways.
The staircase was rebuilt to curve gently upward like something from a magical castle. Chandeliers were fitted with antique bulbs that cast golden light onto richly colored walls. Bookshelves were carved directly into the walls of the study. In a hidden corner of the library, Jim created a “reading nook” accessible only by crawling through a small, arched door no taller than a child.
The stained glass, when restored, caught the morning light and splashed it in jewel-toned patterns across the foyer—like a cathedral catching sunrise. No two rooms were the same. Each had its own color palette, theme, and texture. One room was painted deep forest green, with dark walnut paneling and a roaring fireplace. Another was pale blue, decorated in floral patterns that paid homage to Jean’s grandmother’s teacup collection.
A Magical Interior, Room by Room
The entryway became a blend of old-world elegance and quiet wonder. The restored staircase took center stage, framed by hand-carved banisters with swirling motifs inspired by nature. Above it hung a chandelier made of brass and crystal, salvaged from an old theater across town and painstakingly refurbished.
The parlor was transformed into a gathering space with Victorian wallpaper, gilded mirrors, and restored wainscoting. Jean decorated it with antiques gathered from estate sales and auctions, including an ornate grandfather clock—perhaps a nod to the original builder’s profession.
The dining room was one of the most dramatic spaces. They installed a long, handmade oak table with mismatched chairs, each from a different decade, symbolizing the many people who had passed through the house in its lifetime. In one corner, a gramophone sat atop a reclaimed sideboard, always ready to play a waltz or a piece of classic jazz.
The kitchen, once a ruin of crumbling tiles and outdated appliances, became a cozy and functional space with copper pots, butcher block counters, and herb gardens growing on the windowsills. There was a warmth in the kitchen that felt almost sentient—as if the walls themselves had been waiting for laughter to return.
Upstairs, the bedrooms each had their own stories. One had floral wallpaper and lace curtains, with a ceiling painted to mimic a twilight sky. Another, painted a regal burgundy, contained vintage trunks, a wrought iron bed, and a large oil painting rescued from a secondhand shop.
In the library, the influence of fantasy literature was most profound. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered three walls. An intricately carved ladder allowed access to the top shelves. Between two of the windows was a false panel that, when pressed, opened into a secret passage leading to a narrow reading room beneath the eaves of the roof.
But perhaps the most talked-about feature was the stained glass gallery. Located on the third floor, it was a long hallway of arched windows filled with vibrant scenes—trees, birds, sunrises, moons. In the morning, the hallway bathed in colored light, dancing like fireflies across the hardwood floors.
A Community Inspired
Word of the house spread, first through whispers, then through photos, then through a local newspaper article. Soon, Jim and Jean were giving tours by request. Local schoolchildren came on field trips. Artists visited for inspiration. A filmmaker even asked to shoot part of an indie fantasy film there.
But for the Leamans, the house was more than a restoration project or even a work of art. It was a living symbol of hope. In an age where so much is torn down and replaced, they had chosen to preserve. Where others saw rot, they had seen potential.
And they weren’t done.
They created a blog, sharing every step of their process with thousands of followers across the globe. The blog includes detailed photos, videos of the renovation, behind-the-scenes stories, and even DIY tips for others restoring historic homes. They called it “Reviving 1887.”
They also began hosting seasonal events—Victorian tea parties, book readings, and candlelit concerts. Proceeds went to local heritage preservation charities. The house became a place not just of personal redemption, but of community connection.
Living with the Past, Creating the Future
Today, the house stands proudly—not just a relic of the past, but a beacon for what’s possible when passion meets perseverance. Inside its lovingly restored walls, Jim and Jean Leaman have created something more than a home. They’ve built a legacy.
To walk through the house is to take a journey through time and imagination. Every corner tells a story. Every creak of the floorboards feels intentional. Every beam and brick feels like a brushstroke in a larger masterpiece.
Where once there was only ruin, now stands magic.
And it all began with a dream and the courage to say, “Let’s bring this place back to life.”
