I lived in this house for about three years. If fact, I lived there when President Roosevelt died and when my grandfather died on July 3rd, 1946. Other memories are so great of having friends over, playing records and just hanging out on Saturday afternoons. My room had windows that cranked out and a stairway to a floored attic. The porch upstairs was off the master bedroom. There was a vestibule with prism windows and a beautiful curved stairway that my friend, Jo, said I could walk down when I got married. Sadly my folks sold it while I was still in high school.
This house on West 12th was the McCandless home. It was built when there was nothing north of that street except wheat fields. There is now a school named after the man whose family built the home.
Today the house cannot be seen from the front. Trees and bushes have grown unrestrained and hide it. It so sad to see it uncared for and I am unsure if it is occupied.
I hope it is not one of the homes the city has picked to be destroyed.