Engraving from “History of Washington” – 1893

     I have lots of favorites in Oysterville – the historic village part, the Post Office, the old cannery, the outside of the Captain Stream house, our own house and garden in its entirety.  But my inside-the-house favorite is my great-grandparents’ house, the R.H. Espy House, also known as the “Red House.”
     More often than not, I call it “Uncle Cecil’s House” because he was living in it during the years before and after I moved here permanently.  He was my great-uncle – my grandfather’s youngest brother – and his grandchildren and great-grandchildren now own the house.  It was also owned, at one time, by Uncle Cecil’s sister, Aunt Dora and before that, by my Uncle Willard.  Espys have owned it since its beginnings in 1872.
     It is my favorite Oysterville interior because it has changed so little during my lifetime; probably very little has ever changed, except for the addition of inside plumbing and electricity once they were available.  There are still no electrical outlets upstairs – only a single cord and socket dangling from the ceiling of each bedroom.  They are those pull-chain sockets and from each doorway and each bedpost is a string which crosses the room and is tied to the chain.  Pull on it in the middle of the night to find your way to the bedroom door and hope there is enough light spilling out to guide you to the stairs and to the bathroom on the first floor.  (No plumbing on the second floor.)
     There are seven large bedrooms upstairs and most contain more than one bed.  The house can sleep sixteen – seventeen if there is an infant small enough for the crib in “The Prophet’s Chamber.”  That room was named for itinerant preacher, Reverend J. T. Huff, who came to stay for a few weeks in the 1880s, but found the accommodations so fine that he stayed for twelve years.  He would have stayed longer, goes the family story, but he died.
     There are two stairways – the main, open staircase opposite the front door and, the one I like best, the enclosed “back stairs” which go up from the kitchen.  On the ground floor are a large parlor, an even larger sitting room, a dining room, a small ‘conservatory,’ the kitchen, a half-bath, and a bedroom where the eight R.H. children were born and which was converted to a much-needed bathroom/laundry room in later years.
     In each of the many rooms, layers and layers of family history remain – my great-grandmother’s furniture and some of her kitchen utensils; the ‘Smallpox Quarantine’ sign over the kitchen door dating from my grandfather’s childhood; the paintings by Willard’s (then) wife, Hilda, that adorn the walls; Uncle Cecil’s pipe rack, with pipes.  So many happy memories.  And, with each new generation, new layers appear and new memories are created – the perfect assurance that the Red House will always be a favorite for upcoming family members.