“It is a mistake to think of houses, old houses, as being empty. They are filled with memories, with the faded echoes of voices. Drops of tears, drops of blood, the ring of laughter, the edge of tempers that ebbed and flowed between the walls, into the walls, over the years. Isn’t it, after all, a kind of life? And there are houses, he knows it, that breathe. They carry in their wood and stones, their bricks and mortar, a kind of ego that is nearly, very nearly, human.” - Nora Roberts, Key of Knowledge Those of us who grew up in or around the Macomb area are, for the most part, no strangers to some of the stately homes around the city. We had school friends that lived in them, attended slumber parties and we babysat the children who lived in those houses. Even though we were only 12, 13 or 14 ourselves, and we were petrified at every groan and creak that old houses made, especially after the children were asleep and we were alone. No cell phone, no driver’s license. All alone in a 3,000-squarefoot house built in the 1800s.
AI image of 704 S. Lafayette in 1884, colorized.
In high school, well yes, we explored old houses. Kids of today, don’t do it. It’s dangerous. But we were born smack dab in the middle of the Baby Boomer era and we couldn’t help ourselves. We were the only demographic group in the history of the world that knew how to maneuver through a house that had no solid floorboards. And we never lost an explorer. Just don’t do it.
Over the years in Macomb, we’ve seen the Grand Old Ladies razed to the ground. The old homes have become many times too far gone, too much trouble, and in some cases they are just in the way of highways, new homes, and modern living.
Sometimes, though, we have been extremely grateful to see people with visions step up and save an old home. To mind comes Dorothee Gossel and her beautiful Inselhaus on north Randolph Street. And the restored Nemec home on South Lafayette Street. We are delighted because we know once they are gone they will never be replaced, and we know the truth, they are our history, where we came from.
We know from reading books how proud their owners and builders were of them, and the craftsmanship and sweat that was invested into them. And that what is commonly built today pales in comparison.
In my retired life’s comings and goings down Lafayette and Randolph streets, something caught my eye last spring. Something was different at 704 South Lafayette, a sad-looking stately old home with a beautiful wraparound porch hidden by years worth of vegetation and gone-wild shrubbery. The difference, I decided, was a truck in the drive and oftentimes a man on the porch hammering or sawing. I finally couldn’t stand it any longer and stopped. I’m always looking for story ideas, maybe this was one.
I knew a basic recent scenario of the house. Good people.
Health issues. Deaths. Children out of state. Dumpsters in the yard filled. And then the house was empty and for sale, and a sale wasn’t probably coming any time soon.
Some stories I have found in my brief newspaper writing career come and go easy. You listen to them, type them and submit them and go on to whatever comes next.
Then there are those OTHER stories. The ones you wake up at 3 a.m. and your mind works like this: Who were the home’s original owners, William and Harriet Lipe? How did he become the first telegrapher in Macomb? Where was his telegraph shop, the train station? Which building was his grocery store in on the west side of the square? Did he like being a “girl dad,” three daughters - Louise, Addie and Ruth.
Where are the “girls” now (born in the 1800s, I’m sure quite gone.) Did his girls have kids and how old would they be?
Could I find them? What happened to William as he passed at 51 in April 1892? Cholera? His funeral was held in the house on Lafayette, how did they get the casket in? Where did people sit? Did they sing and what songs did they sing?
This was intended to be a one part story about a man remodeling a house. But now I’m invested, I’ve lost sleep.
The Lipe House Today: Restoring a Grand Old Lady Frank Smoot hails from Wisconsin. Frank has an extensive background in museums and also in restoring homes.
He was never looking to come to a place called Macomb, Illinois and buy a big, historic house that some neighbors felt should be torn down. Frank’s reason for taking a roadtrip to Macomb was his passion for Lustron homes. And with the help of Zillow, he discovered Macomb, Illinois has a handful of rare 1950s homes. He thought about buying one, but that didn’t pan out and a Macomb realtor mentioned to him that she’d like for him to see “a house.” A fixer-upper.
Frank looked at the forlorn property at 704 South Lafayette. Good foundation. Structurally sound. But big, and tired. Oh so sad and tired. To Frank, the house-whisperer, the house screamed, “Save me.” His vision kicked in, what did it look like when it was the sole house on the block and what could it be again. The angel from Wisconsin bought the house. The house built in 1884 by William and Harriet Lipe would not become rubble in our city landfill. It will live on.
Stay tuned for Part Two of this story. Who was the Lipe Family and the history of 704 South Lafayette.
Credits: Allen Nemec, McDonough County Genealogical Society “Images of the Past”; Frank Smoot - house renovator; Sue Scott - Western Illinois Museum; Marla Vizdal - McDonough County Genealogical Society; The Badger Collection Presents Macomb of Illinois by David Badger.
Sketch by David Alan Badger shows earlier renovations.
