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| Features |
Estates of Grace
Eryn Brown
06/01/2004
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Jenrette has already shared intimate portraits of his homes in his
2000 book, Adventures With Old Houses. His North Carolina home, Ayr Mount, is a
full-time museum; and he estimates that more than two dozen groups tour his
other six houses each year. “I think it would be mean and hateful not to let
anyone in to see them,” he says. After his death, Jenrette, who once served on
the board of directors of the National Trust for Historic Preservation, plans to
bequeath his houses to his foundation, the Classic American Homes Preservation
Trust, which is set up to maintain them in perpetuity.
Fortunately for
Jenrette, the admirers who visit his homes almost invariably show up while he is
elsewhere. But in many cases our desire to share our masterpieces with the world
will clash with our desire for privacy. Random visitors have walked in off the
street, says Schneider, who often finds “troops of architecture students”
knocking on his door. Cottrell recalls that he was once jolted awake from a nap
by a group of matrons who strolled into his Gloucester, Mass., estate. There is
no simple answer to this often vexing situation. Some owners, like Cottrell,
have erected fences. Others, like Jenrette, have hired curators to screen
requests for tours and managers to turn away strangers who simply show up.
Home Economics
Buyers commonly spend millions to purchase architectural
residences and millions more retrofitting them, but they usually make a profit
when they sell (although the quirks that can make these houses so endearing
often slow their uptake on the open market). “I always make money,” Cottrell
says. “Real estate keeps going up and up and up.”
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