“What is it about Jefferson, Texas, that makes me not want to come home after I visit there? Could it be the countless amounts of antique stores and shops to visit? Maybe the plethora of lovely, historic hotels and Bed & Breakfasts at which to stay? Ghost hunting after dark? Or maybe it’s peacefulness that overcomes me from just being able to sit on a park bench in the middle of town, in the middle of the day, and relax after a long walking excursion. Whatever it is, it keeps me going back.” — Angela Thomas, KEEL Radio 710
We have halted work on the exterior of Wise Manor for a while as Glenn takes care of an ailing grandmother and sees to his other customers. We still have serveral things to accomplish, such as installing the new window in the old location, making and inserting the new gable ornament, resurfacing the driveway, painting the front fence, etc., but we’ll get back to them in good time. Glenn loved the story of the fence: Mom was town historian and kept cemetery records, as well. Once when she was copying information from gravestones in Oakwood Cemetery for her records, she noticed a work crew taking down an ornamental fence from around a family’s grave site. “What are you going to do with that fence?’ she asked. “Haul it off,” was the answer. “Haul it up to my house,” she said. And that’s the story of the fence that stretches across the front of the house and the answer to why there’s only that much of it. Some of the fleur-de-lis were missing from the top which is probably why the family decided to discard it, but Mom had a local welder cut and attach some rough shapes which the eye does not see because the whole fence is painted black. While Glenn and I were scratching around in “old stuff” in the cupboard, he found some of the broken-off fleur-de-lis and told me that he could re-attach them. We’ll do that before we re-paint the fence. By the way, the fence was cast here in Jefferson, where there were once two flourshing iron founderies due to the abundance of iron ore found locally. Alas! they are now long gone, as are the river boats.