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Homes

Bringing back old-Tampa charm

Restoring the 1926 home would take two years. But for the Smiths, tearing it down wasn't even a passing thought.

By ELIZABETH BETTENDORF
Published February 4, 2005

DAVIS ISLANDS - When Cathy and Stewart Smith first saw the waterfront house they would eventually call home, it hardly exuded the old-Tampa charm they sought.

In fact, most people would have wanted to tear it down.

The two-story 1926 brick home - originally known as the Kellogg House - had been significantly altered over the years. Five staircases, three kitchens and a previous occupant's first-floor living quarters made it very confusing, says Cathy Smith, 38, a stay-at-home mom to Luke, 6, and Laura, 3.

Worse, a family of doves roosted inside the house, one of the bathrooms was purple, and though the house sat on a pretty canal within shouting distance of open Tampa Bay, there was hardly a glimpse of the water from inside.

"It was very '60s. Very funky, super funky, in fact," she says.

But something about the house made her look twice.

A former court reporter with a love for old houses, she liked its curb appeal.

Smith, whose father was Larry Flynt's corporate lawyer, grew up in an old house in suburban Columbus, Ohio, and frequently visited her grandparents in a 1920s farmhouse near St. Louis, Mo.

She likes the way an old house feels.

"New construction trying to be old construction" can't fool her, she says.

She also liked the size of this one: 3,800 square feet.

She didn't want or need a McMansion.

"I'm not going to pretend this is a small house," she says. "It's really big to me. But compared to some, it is small. And at the time we were looking, I had to ask myself, "Why would I need bigger?' "

Saving a historic but ailing house can be a tough call in an era of tear-downs and McMansions.

"We took three months to get opinions and make decisions," Smith says.

The debate ended when Stewart Smith took an ax to a wall to see what was behind it and out tumbled an old, rusty horseshoe, the traditional domestic symbol of good luck.

Says Smith: "I said to my husband, this is going to be our house."

The choice to remodel came with a heavy price: During the two-year process, the family lived in a rental house in Seminole Heights and then an 800-square-foot apartment in Hyde Park.

They put the bulk of their possessions in storage and packed just enough clothes to wait out the restoration. Smith thought it would take less than a year.

"With two small children, it was hard," she says. "I wouldn't want to do it again."

The process took twice as long as predicted, in part because interior demolition and rebuilding were necessary.

Smith jokes that although Stewart owns a company that prepares sites for development, even he didn't accurately guess how long restoration would take.

Over the past century, much of the house had been reconfigured, and only a small section of the first floor, along with a dated, galley-style kitchen, had been inhabited in recent years. Scaffolding ribboned the house inside and out for months. The staircase was rebuilt to look like the original. The bulls-eye molding was recreated. Even the original chandeliers were cleaned and rehung.

The original draperies, ivory silk brocade, were deep-cleaned and repaired, a process that took two years and cost $1,000. A new slate roof was put on, and an upstairs master bedroom terrace was added to maximize views of Tampa Bay. The front doors are copies of some the Smiths saw while traveling in Switzerland.

What Smith wanted most was a show-stopping kitchen, one that incorporated the family's main living and eating areas in a casual, but attractive way.

The result: a beautiful open kitchen, with a large, granite-topped island work area. Pale green French provincial style cabinetwork gives it a sophisticated, unique look. It features a commercial, Viking gas range, a Sub Zero refrigerator, and three dishwashers. The family eats at a big, wooden farm-style table that can look informal or formal, depending on their needs.

"I wanted a house that suits my family and what we can use and need," she says. "And I think that's reflected in the kitchen family-room area."

One area where the couple chose to eschew luxury is the one-car, attached garage that came with the house.

Smith, who drives a four-door BMW, thought a one-car garage was enough for the family.

Upstairs, the original hardwood floors were refurbished, and they left the funky, slope-ceiling closet in her son's room. The front parlor room, a spacious living area, was restored to its original look. The focus is an upright piano belonging to Stewart, a serious, amateur classical pianist.

The Smiths moved in Dec. 22, in enough time to have neighbors and family over for New Year's Eve.

So far, the initial reviews have been raves.

"I think it's gorgeous. I'm so glad they didn't tear it down and build another pseudo-Spanish-style house," says Howard Spies, Cathy Smith's brother, who stopped over one afternoon last week to play with Luke and Laura.

"They maintained a lot of charm, yet added a lot to it. The whole neighborhood benefits from this house being preserved. It's the kind of project that really lasts forever."

[Last modified February 3, 2005, 10:00:09]