The House, Mitch and the Garden Service:
I grew up in an Eichler.
That’s the name of the designer who built our house. It’s kind of like referring to a work of art as an Ansel Adams, or a style of home as a Frank Lloyd Wright. I lived in an Eichler.
Eichler designed his houses during the post WW2 modernistic, George Jetson space age, idea of the future where everyone was convinced we were going to live on the moon and drive flying cars.
Generally Eichlers have a low pitch (or flat) roof, post and beam construction, floor to ceiling glass, concrete slab with integrated radiant heat, (meaning there were pipes that ran under the concrete slab that heated the house from the ground up.) These homes were referred to as patio homes, the idea being that the floor to ceiling glass blurred the distinction from the inside to the outside giving you the feeling of living one with nature. For some reason, Eichler’s idea of a futuristic nirvana was a flat roof with glass walls.
While being surrounded by glass did give you the feeling of living one with nature, and while admittedly it did look cool, living amognst that much glass presented its own set of problems.
For one thing, the glass was not double insulated safety glass like it is today. It was a very thin single pane of glass that was very drafty. So unless you had thick curtains to help insulate the windows and keep you comfortable, which then ruined the whole “one with nature” feel, the house was freezing.
It also had a flat roof, which consisted of one thin layer of sheet rock, with tar and gravel on top. This meant there was almost no protection at all from the hot sun, or the outside elements that beat down on it all day. And believe me, with no air conditioner and all those windows, it got very HOT in the summer and very drafty and COLD in the winter.
Another problem with living in a glass house was that the glass was always breaking, and replacing those huge floor to ceiling panels of glass was very expensive.
That’s the name of the designer who built our house. It’s kind of like referring to a work of art as an Ansel Adams, or a style of home as a Frank Lloyd Wright. I lived in an Eichler.
Eichler designed his houses during the post WW2 modernistic, George Jetson space age, idea of the future where everyone was convinced we were going to live on the moon and drive flying cars.
Generally Eichlers have a low pitch (or flat) roof, post and beam construction, floor to ceiling glass, concrete slab with integrated radiant heat, (meaning there were pipes that ran under the concrete slab that heated the house from the ground up.) These homes were referred to as patio homes, the idea being that the floor to ceiling glass blurred the distinction from the inside to the outside giving you the feeling of living one with nature. For some reason, Eichler’s idea of a futuristic nirvana was a flat roof with glass walls.
While being surrounded by glass did give you the feeling of living one with nature, and while admittedly it did look cool, living amognst that much glass presented its own set of problems.
For one thing, the glass was not double insulated safety glass like it is today. It was a very thin single pane of glass that was very drafty. So unless you had thick curtains to help insulate the windows and keep you comfortable, which then ruined the whole “one with nature” feel, the house was freezing.
It also had a flat roof, which consisted of one thin layer of sheet rock, with tar and gravel on top. This meant there was almost no protection at all from the hot sun, or the outside elements that beat down on it all day. And believe me, with no air conditioner and all those windows, it got very HOT in the summer and very drafty and COLD in the winter.
Another problem with living in a glass house was that the glass was always breaking, and replacing those huge floor to ceiling panels of glass was very expensive.
Due to the curvature of the street, my house had the largest lot on the block. In the front, we had a very large lawn, a huge 4 car driveway and a 2 car garage all facing the street. The whole house was surrounded by a 6 foot fence which was covered with ivy, and a very large pine tree that grew at an angle and kind of looked like a bonsai tree, giving it a very Asian feel.
With the 2 car garage, flat roof line and the fence going all the way across, the whole front of the house had a very clean straight lined flat look.
The front door was facing the street, but was behind the 6 foot fence, and to get to it, you had to go through a gate, and walk through a large courtyard/patio area which led to the front door of the house.
The front of the house was divided into thirds. The first third consisted of the actual front door and a huge floor to ceiling picture window. The front door itself a Dutch Door, meaning it was a split door in which you could open the top and leave the bottom closed. Dutch doors were a wood frame door with glass in the middle.
Next to the door was a huge floor to ceiling picture window. Next to that was a huge brick fireplace that I swear held up most of the house. When I say this thing was big I mean BIG. It was 8’ tall and 6’ wide, all brick, and went from floor to ceiling, painted white and took up 1/3 of the wall. It felt like a logical place to put a TV because it was the center of the room but you couldn’t because it was a fireplace.
(This was before flat screen TV’s)
With the 2 car garage, flat roof line and the fence going all the way across, the whole front of the house had a very clean straight lined flat look.
The front door was facing the street, but was behind the 6 foot fence, and to get to it, you had to go through a gate, and walk through a large courtyard/patio area which led to the front door of the house.
The front of the house was divided into thirds. The first third consisted of the actual front door and a huge floor to ceiling picture window. The front door itself a Dutch Door, meaning it was a split door in which you could open the top and leave the bottom closed. Dutch doors were a wood frame door with glass in the middle.
Next to the door was a huge floor to ceiling picture window. Next to that was a huge brick fireplace that I swear held up most of the house. When I say this thing was big I mean BIG. It was 8’ tall and 6’ wide, all brick, and went from floor to ceiling, painted white and took up 1/3 of the wall. It felt like a logical place to put a TV because it was the center of the room but you couldn’t because it was a fireplace.
(This was before flat screen TV’s)
There was no reason for the fireplace to be this big, and take up that much wall space but there it was. The last third was another large window. So you had the front door, window, fireplace, and window.
Standing in the living room facing out toward the front yard, directly right of the window next to the fireplace, forming the first corner in the room, was the only full normal wall running the whole length of the house, from the living room to the dining room. It was 7’ tall and 24’ long, and there was a 2’ window running the whole 24’ length of the wall, which was was an odd shape that following the slight pitch of the roof.
There was no way to curtain that window space due to its odd shape, but it did allow you to see the ski, and on nights with a full moon the light would shine in the window casting a slight shadow. That was kind of nice---I guess.
At the other end of the wall forming the second corner of the room were the windows leading to the back yard, which consisted of 2 picture windows and a Dutch door.
Next came the kitchen which had 3 large windows above the sink area also overlooking the backyard. Directly right of the kitchen, was the master bedroom, which also looked out over the backyard. It had 1 small window in the corner next to the kitchen a Dutch door, and 2 large picture windows.
(Can you see a pattern here?) The master bathroom had a normal window, one of the few “normal” windows in the whole house.
There was a second bathroom down the hall which did not have “normal” windows but instead had a Dutch door leading to the side of the house. Now you tell me, why in the world do does anyone need a Dutch door in a bathroom? There is no conceivable reason why anyone would need a big door in a bathroom. As a result of this out of place door, the bathroom didn’t have a normal bathtub but a small square one. It kind of looked like a square shower pan but was deeper, but not deep enough to bathe in unless you were 3 years old. If the door were removed one could easily put a full size tub and shower there and make the bathroom “normal” but that would make too much sense.
Next to the bathroom was the larger of the 2 back bedrooms which had a normal window; however the smaller bedroom next to that had a Dutch door which led to the front courtyard.
All in all, the entire house had 6 huge picture windows 5 Dutch doors, and numerous smaller odd shaped windows that filled in small gaps here and there about the house.
Standing in the living room facing out toward the front yard, directly right of the window next to the fireplace, forming the first corner in the room, was the only full normal wall running the whole length of the house, from the living room to the dining room. It was 7’ tall and 24’ long, and there was a 2’ window running the whole 24’ length of the wall, which was was an odd shape that following the slight pitch of the roof.
There was no way to curtain that window space due to its odd shape, but it did allow you to see the ski, and on nights with a full moon the light would shine in the window casting a slight shadow. That was kind of nice---I guess.
At the other end of the wall forming the second corner of the room were the windows leading to the back yard, which consisted of 2 picture windows and a Dutch door.
Next came the kitchen which had 3 large windows above the sink area also overlooking the backyard. Directly right of the kitchen, was the master bedroom, which also looked out over the backyard. It had 1 small window in the corner next to the kitchen a Dutch door, and 2 large picture windows.
(Can you see a pattern here?) The master bathroom had a normal window, one of the few “normal” windows in the whole house.
There was a second bathroom down the hall which did not have “normal” windows but instead had a Dutch door leading to the side of the house. Now you tell me, why in the world do does anyone need a Dutch door in a bathroom? There is no conceivable reason why anyone would need a big door in a bathroom. As a result of this out of place door, the bathroom didn’t have a normal bathtub but a small square one. It kind of looked like a square shower pan but was deeper, but not deep enough to bathe in unless you were 3 years old. If the door were removed one could easily put a full size tub and shower there and make the bathroom “normal” but that would make too much sense.
Next to the bathroom was the larger of the 2 back bedrooms which had a normal window; however the smaller bedroom next to that had a Dutch door which led to the front courtyard.
All in all, the entire house had 6 huge picture windows 5 Dutch doors, and numerous smaller odd shaped windows that filled in small gaps here and there about the house.
When the houses were built in the late 50’s early 60’s the building codes didn’t care about safety glass,
(probably hadn’t been invented yet,) but 30+ years later, anytime one of those windows needed to be replaced, building code specified it be replaced with double insulated safety glass, like the kind that crumbles when it shatters.
About 6 weeks before my 12th birthday the windows in the front Dutch door and the large picture window next to it broke, and my father decided it was my fault and that I would be responsible for paying for it.
Problem was it was expensive, very expensive. As in $1200 expensive for the large window and $150 for each of the 2 smaller windows in the Dutch door. I was 12. Where is a 12 year old boy supposed to come up with $1,500? And it wasn’t like my father was just spouting off because he was mad and eventually would forget about it. If he said I owed him $1500 I owed him $1500, and I had better figure out a way to pay him back or he would make my life miserable until I did.
He would, however, cut me a little slack; I didn’t have to pay him back all at once. He was willing to give me a year, and I could make payments, but if I didn’t, I could plan on coal in my stocking that year for Christmas.
(probably hadn’t been invented yet,) but 30+ years later, anytime one of those windows needed to be replaced, building code specified it be replaced with double insulated safety glass, like the kind that crumbles when it shatters.
About 6 weeks before my 12th birthday the windows in the front Dutch door and the large picture window next to it broke, and my father decided it was my fault and that I would be responsible for paying for it.
He would, however, cut me a little slack; I didn’t have to pay him back all at once. He was willing to give me a year, and I could make payments, but if I didn’t, I could plan on coal in my stocking that year for Christmas.
Like that was going to make any difference.
1 month or 100 months, $1,500 or $15 million, it was irrelevant, it was still more money than I had ever seen in my life, and I had no clue how I was supposed to come up that much money before the end of the following year.
But there was one thing I knew for sure; there was no way I was going to make payments to my father. He would never keep track of the bits and pieces I gave him and I could very easily end up paying him $5000 and he would just keep taking it and taking it. I knew, however I managed to come up with the money, that I had to pay him off in one fell swoop or not at all. (Coal wasn’t THAT bad was it?)
But there was one thing I knew for sure; there was no way I was going to make payments to my father. He would never keep track of the bits and pieces I gave him and I could very easily end up paying him $5000 and he would just keep taking it and taking it. I knew, however I managed to come up with the money, that I had to pay him off in one fell swoop or not at all. (Coal wasn’t THAT bad was it?)
