Shadowlawn

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On Third Street in our town stands this stately old home.

When I was growing up here, it housed our public library. I don't remember wondering, back in those days, about its previous history as a family home.

Since moving back to town I have, however, thought often about what stories this old house could tell of the family or families that once lived within its walls. Today I found a bit of the story.


In 1907 Isaac Witter had this house, which they called Shadowlawn, built for his wife and little son Jere. They are the only family that ever lived here.

Isaac inherited the Rapids First National Bank from his father. However, banking was not the driving passion of his life.

He maintained a close friendship with a college friend, George Mead. Together they formed a partnership which was very beneficial to this community and included - among other things - the founding of the paper mill that would be the bread and butter of this town for generations to come.


Isaac was married to Charlotte. I wish I could have talked to Charlotte and heard all the stories she had to tell. Unfortunately she died when I was only two and that was years before we moved to this town.

Fortunately, Charlotte left behind a poem which conveys quite a bit of how she felt about this stately old home.

The rest of the words of this post are hers.

Shadowlawn

At Shadowlawn the days are long,
The nights are cool and sweet,

The river pours its endless flow
Right by my door,
And when I go
A-walking down the street
I feel its movement,
Sense its life
Its motion swift and fleet.

At Shadowlawn the elms are old,
Their branches strong and green;
In the depth of their shade the air is cool,
In the heat of the room,
Or the evening gold,
As the sun sets over the pool.

The birds awake early at Shadowlawn,
Sing their songs of praise

Ere the sun is up
Or the morning rays
Have met the darker shades of dawn
In the leafy branches of Shadowlawn.

And then there are memories that come
To us at Shadowlawn ~

Some are poignant,
Some are glad,
Some are joyous,
Some are sad,
And some are dim,

But many are clear;
They make up the fabric
That holds us fast

In the spell of the present,
The joy of the past
At Shadowlawn, so dear.

-- Charlotte Witter

Over the next few days I plan to show you more of the interior of Shadowlawn.

Linking today to
Vintage Thingie Thursday
Over at Coloradolady's lovely place.

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