RUSSELL -- It sits there on Mill St., burned, beaten, a sad shadow of its former venerable self.
"It" is what's left of the Duncan House, one of the village of Russell's most important historical landmarks, which was gutted by fire last weekend.
I owned it or, should I say, I was current custodian of a building that dates back to before Confederation, when lumber and goods barges plied the narrow Castor River down below it, and various milling operations surrounded it.
It was the oldest intact house in the village, the grand home of Russell's founding family which, in the second half of the 19th century, lent the settlement its name.
RUN OF BAD LUCK
Duncanville -- that's what this place was called before it was arbitrarily renamed after Upper Canada functionary Peter Russell.
To say I've been having bad luck in recent years with heritage houses would be a gross architectural understatement.
I'm a big fan of vintage buildings, especially ones in rural settings, be they on concession roads or in wayside villages. Old farmhouses, barns, drive sheds, elevators, churches, village homes, institutional and commercial buildings -- all of them attract my eye and my admiration.
Over the years, I've been fortunate enough to have acquired half a dozen older homes, most of them in this village southeast of Ottawa. The geographical exception was a fine brick farmhouse located south of Chesterville, where I lived for seven years.
Among the Russell acquisitions, one of my two favourites was the large, 130-year-old stucco-over-brick home known locally as the "Doctors' House" because it was owned by two village physicians who ran their practices out of it back to back for almost 100 years.
My other architectural pride and joy was the pioneer Duncan House. My bad luck -- although it really has little to do with luck -- started more than four years ago when a marauding pack of booze- and drug-crazed youths invaded the Doctors' House while I was away, smashing everything they could get their hands on in an orgy of destruction that went on for hours. They caused $15,000 in damage, which was repaired before the house was sold.
The feeling of helpless violation in the desecration of a village heirloom which happened to be in my custody made that episode extremely traumatic.
Ironically, just before National Heritage Day Feb. 17, that desecration was topped by a blaze that started at a kitchen stove and quickly spread through the sturdy beams and planks fashioned by the Duncan family into the beloved, 150-year-old local landmark.
While I owned it, I haven't lived in it in recent years. I was renting it to two couples, one with two young children. The good news is that nobody was injured and all have relocated.
FOND MEMORIES
Unfortunately, some family pets were lost in the fire.
I was away at the time and learned of the disaster through a cellphone call; nothing could have prepared me for the shock of actually seeing the smouldering remains upon my return. While those ruins stand for the time being as a reminder to village residents of what they lost, the only possible outcome is that the remains will be knocked down and hauled off to the landfill.
Over the years, the Duncan House has served as a boarding house, court office, B&B, and rental property. In the early days of the defunct village art show, I was proud to open it as the first venue for participating artists. Speaking of art and the Duncan House, it has been commemorated by my mother Shirley in a mural at one of the local elementary schools, and it has been reproduced by other artists.
The Duncan House was where my kids spent their early years and where several other notable events occurred. I had long-range intentions of fully restoring it and moving back in.
That, of course, is no longer possible. Eventually, I plan to somehow honour the building and its history on the now desecrated site. Hopefully, something good will rise from the ashes.
As I have already learned from my experience at the Doctors' House, life does go on.
Russell Fire Department