When are you going to do something
about that front porch
by Roger Faris
The early evening is an ideal time to sit on a front porch to observe the world and be part of it all. This has always had a wide appeal. President Harrison based his 1840 campaign for election on the claim that he would prefer to spend the rest of his days sitting on a log cabin porch with an unlimited supply of hard cider. The voters were impressed, and he was swept into office.
During this century the architecture of our porches has been influenced by philosophy and fashion. The charming bungalows built during the first three decades often included a large covered porch with plenty of room for benches, comfortable chairs, or a swing seat. They were usually several steps above the level of the yard, and provided a sense of refuge while also allowing for communication and contact with the neighbors. The porches were solid looking, supported by heavy columns of stone, brick and wood, but they avoided any implication that the occupants were wealthy. Inside a bungalow style house the openness between the living, dining and kitchen areas was an intentional departure from the era of servants and formality.
In the middle of the twentieth century a modernizing mania took hold. Any element of a house that could be considered old fashioned became unacceptable and had to go. Our old house got the full treatment. The wooden porch handrails and guardrails were replaced with wrought iron. Double-hung windows and leaded glass were removed, and picture windows installed. Old trim was torn off and new layer of modern siding was added. More updating happened inside. I don't even want to talk about it.
The crowning glory of this period had to be the electric green astro-turf on the steps and porch. The entry to our house was so ugly that it was painful. A restoration project was part of every list of important things to do. We found, however, that the astro-turf was also quite practical. It prevented young children from getting hurt on the concrete steps, and it helped to clean the mud off their little shoes. So we just lived with it for years.
Our porch overhaul finally began one year during the coldest month of the winter. The design was simple enough. We wanted it to be like the original, and the high quality old Washington State Archive photograph of our house revealed plenty of detail. We also wanted the new work to be able to stand up to the forces of nature and children, so some time consuming preparations were part of the plan.
After taking careful measurements we cut the new posts and guardrails from thick pieces of dry, straight-grained lumber. Our friend Gary Nolan owns a bandsaw, and he was willing to help with some tricky curves. To improve appearance and durability, all of the edges were rounded. A one-half inch radius bulnosing bit in a router made this job easy. Then the new porch pieces received primer and paint on all of their surfaces. This pre-painting of exterior woodwork is one way to keep rainwater from entering the wood and causing a chronic maintenance problem.
By this time, winter was about over. It was time to bring the parts out of the basement and install them on our porch. An enjoyable first step was using a power reciprocating saw to lop off the offending wrought iron parts. The green carpeting also peeled away fairly easily. We disguised the concrete landing with a layer of wood decking and added siding to match the rest of the house. Pressure treated, primed, and painted wood steps were installed over the old concrete stairway.
Another satisfying part of this job was the quick installation of the prepared posts, rails, caps, and other elements. Recessed bolts, lag screws, and galvanized casing nails made the structure strong enough to withstand all varieties of climbing, sliding, leaping, and other anticipated abuse. It all went together during a weekday. I expected that my neighbors would be amazed and thrilled when they arrived home. No one ever said anything. That was hard, of course, but I'm getting over it. I just sit out here with my large jug of cider.
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