Chapel Hill Road runs through what was probably the old center of Morrisville, NC. I took some pics one day because traffic was moving at it's usual pace on Chapel Hill Road, that is to say, not at all, or real slow.
I was spending some quality time as usual and the camera still had a charge. This was probably the home of one of the local pillars of the community at one time. It's a rare untouched, well preserved Victorian vernacular complete with gingerbread. I'm guessing 1880s or 1890s. Some small former stores near it, now used for some type of landscaping business. They are in decent shape but touched a bit with vinyl siding.
My favorite building in Morrisville. It's got a wonderful massing to it and it's mostly original with the exception of the brick columns. It had to be the garage to go to when your Model A wasn't feeling well. Fairly substantial middle class house next door, was probably the owner. The German siding is worthy of mention, something that's no longer milled. The five panel door is kinda neat too. Note the other side of the road is moving. We just sat and watched the light turn red, green, yellow, red...........
The side door, another five panel, nice little porch, and then a transition to the side. Open bays in the back. They probably fixed your Fordson tractor as well...... That and someone could finally make that left turn. Red, green, yellow, red.......
A clue to how important this corner was to Morrisville. The fire department is still there. Fire departments were the unofficial town hall where things got done. Hey, they knew
everybody. Yet more red, green, yellow, red......
The Town of Cary. Otherwise known as the Containment Area for Relocated Yankees. My bro-in-law is a true Southerner and is the rare exception for a resident. Both my sister and I grew up with one foot firmly planted in the South and one firmly planted in the North. Grits and scrapple, if you don't have to ask....., you're one of us. I'm never sure if I'm supposed to be a Yankee or a Dixie-crat. But hey, I do know the tune to
Dixie....and some of the words. It's the South's analog of
Under The Double Eagle, yet another musical survivor of a vanished time and country (Prussia). Just more unquiet ghosts.
I was spending some quality time as usual and the camera still had a charge. This was probably the home of one of the local pillars of the community at one time. It's a rare untouched, well preserved Victorian vernacular complete with gingerbread. I'm guessing 1880s or 1890s. Some small former stores near it, now used for some type of landscaping business. They are in decent shape but touched a bit with vinyl siding.
My favorite building in Morrisville. It's got a wonderful massing to it and it's mostly original with the exception of the brick columns. It had to be the garage to go to when your Model A wasn't feeling well. Fairly substantial middle class house next door, was probably the owner. The German siding is worthy of mention, something that's no longer milled. The five panel door is kinda neat too. Note the other side of the road is moving. We just sat and watched the light turn red, green, yellow, red...........
The side door, another five panel, nice little porch, and then a transition to the side. Open bays in the back. They probably fixed your Fordson tractor as well...... That and someone could finally make that left turn. Red, green, yellow, red.......
A clue to how important this corner was to Morrisville. The fire department is still there. Fire departments were the unofficial town hall where things got done. Hey, they knew everybody. Yet more red, green, yellow, red......
The Town of Cary. Otherwise known as the Containment Area for Relocated Yankees. My bro-in-law is a true Southerner and is the rare exception for a resident. Both my sister and I grew up with one foot firmly planted in the South and one firmly planted in the North. Grits and scrapple, if you don't have to ask....., you're one of us. I'm never sure if I'm supposed to be a Yankee or a Dixie-crat. But hey, I do know the tune to Dixie....and some of the words. It's the South's analog of Under The Double Eagle, yet another musical survivor of a vanished time and country (Prussia). Just more unquiet ghosts.
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