How about this for a change - a tale about a venerable Queen Anne house in the process of being saved?
That would be the turreted Betts house on the pie-shaped lot where West Kinnear Place, Willard Avenue West and West Prospect Street come together .
This is the house, built in 1900, where Fred Betts was born in 1908. Betts went on to become one of this city's prominent lawyers, known for his folksy, gentlemanly manner in front of a jury and his kindness toward others. Fred died in July 2002 at 94.
The Betts place - it's not really a mansion, though it's often called that - is a big, Victorian farmhouse with a commanding view of city and sound, Mt. Rainier and the Olympics. It had fallen into disrepair: a simple case of old age. When the property changed hands a few years ago and its landmark tree was promptly cut down, fears for the house itself raised neighborhood hackles.
I talked to Fred on the phone just after he sold the place in 2001. He remembered, as a kid, being surrounded by cows and chickens. Fred was something of a youthful daredevil, it seems. According to "Queen Anne - Community on the Hill," our local history book, he once sneaked into the Counterbalance tunnel and rode the counterweight to the bottom of the hill and back, a foolhardy feat which terrified him. In old age, worried his beloved family home might be flattened, it was clear from our phone conversation that Fred was experiencing a painful version of buyer's remorse.
Well, the Betts house may be standing at the turn of the next century.
The Queen Anne resident who bought the house from Fred tried to save it, but the magnitude of the project was formidable. Enter John Hogan, age 37.
Hogan lives on Queen Anne with his wife and 2-year-old daughter. He has a business called Marqueen Restoration Group, which specializes in restoring old homes. He's done several on Queen Anne, and his group renovated the classic Villa Costella on lower Queen Anne.
Hogan bought the Betts property last October and is in the process of restoring the gutted shell, which was moved 20 feet back from the street. There was no way the purchase numbers would have worked for him unless he subdivided. The Betts house now sits on a 7,000 square-foot lot, and there is a 5,000 square-foot lot in back of it. Hogan hopes the work will be completed this year. He figures the Betts place will go on the market for about $2.4 million.
So, sure, it's his business.
But there's more to it than that.
"If you want to make money, it's not the quickest way to make it," John said of his line of work. "It's half for the business, half for the love."
Hogan attended Boston College where he majored in history. Back in Boston, he saw how historic structures were treated with respect.
With the Betts house he's even letting the original glass windows, made wavy with age, stay where they are - at least the ones that haven't had rocks tossed through them.
"You can get straight glass in Bellevue," Hogan joked.
A project like the Betts place, he said, is good for his worker morale - craftsmanship gets exercised. There's a sense of participating in something bigger and better than putting up another strip mall or Disney-like trophy house.
When Hogan looks at the Betts house it's like a trainer looking at a fine thoroughbred - you sense he wants to stroke it.
In this difficult business, "It's two steps back and three steps forward," he said.
When asked what drives him, Hogan is not one to wax philosophical: "Today's buildings and homes lack character," he shrugged, his eyes still fixed on the shell of the Betts house.
He says the task is not to be slavish to the original. People lived differently in the old days: kitchens, and rooms, were much smaller.
"In restoration you have to be flexible," Hogan mused. "If you're trying to create a museum piece it becomes cost prohibitive and uncomfortable."
We climbed up to the turret, something I've always wanted to do. The ample space, all studs and flooring right now, will be turned into a study. The view, of course, is remarkable. What a perch to have watched the city grow up against the backdrop of Mt. Rainier. This once was the bedroom where Fred Betts took his first sip of air.
Somebody is going to have a fine, new-old place. And Queen Anne gets to keep a neighborhood landmark. The new owners should have no problem borrowing a cup of sugar from the neighbors.
Rest in peace, Fred.
Mike Dillon can be reached at mdillon@nwlink.com.[[In-content Ad]]
