Neil's Dream House

Neil is an original. I know that term is applied, or misapplied, to numerous people, but in this case, it is truly merited.

I recognized this shortly after meeting him. But, if anyone harbored doubts, they were dispelled shortly after Neil’s business took off and he built his dream house.

Neil was on his way to siring a large brood and they were in his thoughts as he set out to design his new abode. As a boy, Neil had been fascinated by haunted house movies. He mentioned to me that this was to come into play, but would divulge no more. I would have to await the completion of his house and ensuing reception.

The evening finally arrived. From the outside, the design was that of a very large colonial brick. The foyer was big, featuring gothic columns. A bit incongruous with the exterior, but vintage Neil. The décor also made me wonder about the haunted house theme.

I asked Neil about that, but he said I’d have to wait until that part of the tour. Getting the punchline out of Neil without suffering through the entire preamble was like trying to get aspirin out of the bottle without removing the cotton wad.

We wended our way through the immense structure without a hint of jangling chains or mysterious drafts. I was beginning to lose hope. I was still fascinated by the dizzying mélange of gothic, early American and modern Wal-Mart touches.

Then, we descended into the basement and I caught Neil glancing at me. Could it be a dungeon?

No such luck. It was luxuriously finished and equipped with the best in audio visual gear.

Neil led us through the rooms, which held nothing more exotic than a few bizarre turns in decoration. We returned to the stairs and I thought I had been had. But, Neil paused beside the enclosed steps and slid a hidden panel. He got down on his knees and instructed us to crawl after him.

Twenty feet and a few bends later, we emerged in a closet. It was a secret passage. Neil’s fantasy and gift to his children.

That was years ago. Today, I ran into Neil and got caught up. Driving home, I was recalling the secret passage. Yes, it was a stroke. But, if I were approaching this without limitation, as he had stated, I might take it further.

Mind you, I’ve never believed in tying up too much capital in housing. But, if I did and I took Neil’s approach (I’d more likely go with a mountain lodge theme), it might go something like this.

The approach sets the stage, which I think demands a moat and drawbridge. I’ve always wanted a moat anyway. Never knew anyone who had one. There would be old tombstones in the yard. No remains under them (yuk), just the stones surrounded by a low, dilapidated picket fence.

Concealed somewhere would be a fog machine. A timer would be set for dawn and dusk.

Then, a large oaken door with substantial iron knocker. It would be flanked by flickering gas lights, naturally. The hinges would creak, as would all those in the house.

The entrance hall would have an immense chandelier (candled) and suit of armor. Spider webs would festoon the chandelier and other strategic places. They would be of the spray-on variety; no spiders, thank you. To the right would be a cavernous parlor with a stone fireplace of sufficient size to roast a moose. I cannot foresee the circumstances under which I would be roasting a moose, but I like to keep my options open.

Over the fireplace would be a portrait of a stern ancestor. My recollection of my progenitors leads me to believe that it would not be a challenge to find such an image. Naturally, the eyes would be removable, so I could peer into the room from one of the many secret passages honeycombing the building. They would be cramped and dank. Carpeted, well-lit secret passages just don’t cut it. Access would be via tipping books on a shelf, twisting andiron toppers, tilting picture frames, etc.

The HVAC system is a bit complex. It has to create random drafts and temperature differences. Lots of candles about, to emphasize the drafts.

Somewhere in the house would be a player organ. Got to have organ music. Rhythm would be supplied by a loud grandfather clock. And, scattered about the house will be concealed, programmable hologram projectors. You need a few scary images of skeletons, ghouls or ex-wives.

There will be a remote control. trapdoor on the first floor. Guests tend to wear out their welcome.

At least one of the upstairs rooms would be a turret. Not sure how to decorate a round room, but I’ll give it a whack. Down below is the laboratory. Lots of bubbling beakers, specimen jars and electric arcs. No shackles here. Save that for the master bedroom.


That’s the framework. It still needs to be fleshed out with some nuances, like a slavering Great Dane named Lars.

I haven’t priced it out, but it can’t be cheap. Actually, I’ve done the economy version of this by checking into Ravenswood Castle near Logan, Ohio. Not quite as detailed, but the cost differential makes it attractive.