Spitz and Tom load wood into Tom’s truck, while Lynn dodges a swinging board.
Spitz, Eric, and Janet Barth in front of her barn which we had just bought for $100. “Take it down and leave the ground swept clean.”
My husband Spitz had something to deliver to Janet that spring day. After he was through with his business, she came out to the car where I was waiting. “If you ever want to sell your barn, let me know.” I said casually. I had loved barns since we had lived in upstate New York’s Allegheny Mountains years ago. That we lived in Trinity’s parsonage now, after 3 years of seminary dorm living, intensified my desire to have a house, a house with history, a house of our own. I had no idea if it would be possible to make a barn livable. Janet Barth thought for a minute, then said, “Want to look inside?” Turns out she had been worried about the barn as it seemed to be sinking into the mud it sat on.
Of course I did! It was lovely and ancient and had hand-hewn beams and old weathered siding with the light streaming in the cracks. I was smitten. “$100,” she said. “Leave the ground swept clean.” Next, I had to figure out where we could put the old barn, who could help us move it, and where we would get the money.
First the land
Bob Barth’s barn in 1979. That is my son Eric standing in the Manure pit (no manure). He, at 9, was fascinated with our plans and did what he could to help. When there was nothing for him or 7 year old Mark to do, they played around their grandparents house in Northport.
Just down Omena Point Road we had spotted an old sign lying on the ground in the snow that winter. The land was for sale, and it was being sold by another member of the church, Horace Wheeler! I convinced my doubtful husband that old Horace needed a home visit by his minister since he had not been seen in church in a while And while he was there, he should bring up the land. He reluctantly agreed.
Amazingly enough, Horace agreed we could purchase the land for $100 a month, which we could just afford. Horace was in poor health at that time and died soon after the payments were begun. His lawyers instructed us we were to send the payments from then on to Horace’s daughter, Nancy Jo Wheeler, Horace’s wonderful daughter who had painted and given art lessons in the “Paint Box” behind Sunset Lodge. All these connections to Old Omena just fascinated me. Spitz was beginning to think this could not be done.
All right! We had the barn, we had the land
Now how could we move it there?
This was the late 1970’s when there was no Northport Art Association. Judy Mastick was working to get a group of artists, including me, to come together and start an art gallery. She had a meeting at her house. My eyes popped when I walked inside. This was a huge house built of the wood from nine barns with a reclaimed ships mast found washed up on the nearby beach holding up the center of it! I asked Judy, “Do you think your husband would build one for us?” “Why don’t you ask him?” she answered, so I did.
He said he would have to see the barn. We met at the barn soon afterward. He quietly and somberly walked the entire floor of the lofts and lower floors, then said, “I could save the original section with the hand-hewn beams, but there is too much rot to save the rest. We could use the wood from that part to fill in where there are rotten boards in the rest.” Big sigh of relief! Also, Tom wanted to have winters off when he would be selling wood stoves. With the winters off, I could be earning money to pay for the project by playing with Traverse City Symphony and weaving and selling my work at Tamarack.
Lynn pulling nails with her nail puller. This old door was “door nailed” together, meaning the nails had been pounded in and bent over so they were stuck fast. “Dead as a door nail”.
Tom was the boss, I was the “go-fer.” We started with the roof, taking the corrugated metal off piece by piece. He would pull the roof off and I throw it down, I would take out the nails with a nail puller and load it in his truck. Amazingly, I was able to sell it.
Journal Quotes Dated June 18, 1970
“All the metal roof is removed. Made a terrific noise coming down! Tom found a swallows nest with 5 tiny eggs at the peak. In spite of the noise, the swallows are still on their nest warming their eggs.” Tom carefully moved the nest to a tree, eggs, and all.
The rafters were carefully lowered down next and loaded up without breaking a single one, and we moved on to the manure pit. At the south end of the barn where the cows were milked, there was a cement pit with a roof over it which was connected to the barn by a shovel width opening near the floor. This is where Bob Barth, Janet’s dad, disposed of the manure. Tom carefully took down the roof and beams, saying it would make a fine porch. I was doubtful. We used the pit though, tossing in wood too rotten to save.
Sunshine streaming inside the roofless barn. The rafters are leaning against one of the lofts, and you can see the ladder to the second loft closer to the camera.
With no roof, the rain came in
“Everything was soaked from the rain last night! It brings out the smell of cows. A big garter snake surprised me and a bat whizzed by Tom as he began taking off the barn siding on the back side. ”
Taking down the siding came next. We had to be careful as the wood was old and weathered.
“We moved on to the siding, carefully taking it off board by board”…
“Tom carefully handed the siding down to me, I sorted it, the good wood going into his truck or trailer after I de-nailed it, the bad wood in a pile to burn if we don’t need it.” I saved the square nails as they were proof of how old the building was.
“After Tom knocked down a 4-board section of wall, I heard him cry, out, ‘Uh Oh. Tragedy!’ A tiny field mouse family was behind the wall. Several baby mice were killed in the drop. Mother mouse scurried off carrying the remaining babies.”
The rope still hung from a beam inside the barn. It looks like it once held up Janet’s swing.
By the end of June, we were making real progress
“The rest of the siding from the shed end came off. The big round posts, slightly singed are interesting but too short. They were evidently salvaged from a previously burned-out barn long ago, and then used in this barn.” We found that Bob Barth had not only used the round beams from a previous barn, but he had also used reclaimed 2” wood for the siding in that later addition and had nailed it up on the sides using very long nails.
A quote from that period shows Tom’s frustration: “Tom finished removing the siding from the shed end. He had to bow the thick siding out and pound it with a sledge hammer to get it off. Tom says he has NEVER had such a tough time getting siding off. Not much survived.” We had to get all the siding off so we could safely save the beautiful old hand-hewn posts and beams inside, whether it could be reused or not.
The roofing, rafters, and siding are all safely down. Next step is making the map of the beam positions.
Journal entry from June 30th, 1979
“Today Tom said, ‘This barn is going to be naked before long,’ Only the back siding and milking shed area siding is still in place.”
July 9th: Tom had finished the siding and the barn was now all open to fresh air!
“Tom took down the last loft (there had been two) and inside wall. He left us a pile of wood to de-nail and de-hay (it is stuck on). He wants ‘DANGER’ signs put up. The beams are shaky without the siding.”
“Spitz and I scraped down and de-nailed 2 big piles of siding boards. Janets cheerful chatter kept us going.”
This is the only old beam map I saved. They were well used as you can see!
Saving the hand-hewn beams
It was the middle of July, and we were ready to take down the posts and beams. First Tom wanted me to make a diagram of the beams. Each and every one of the hand-hewn beams in the old section had to be numbered so we could put it back up the way it came down so the mortice and tenons parts would fit together properly. I drew and numbered a map and then used numbered screen tacks Tom bought at the hardware store to match up the numbers on the beams with the diagram. There could be no mistakes!
How could we get the beams down without damaging them? Tom came up with a plan to spread the rotten junk boards out in a thick pad and drop the beams on them. It seemed like the only way to do it, but I was worried. I held my breath as I watched Tom careful pound out the wooden pins on the cross beams, and the beams dropped down with an earthshaking “Boom,” right on the cushions as they were supposed to!
When the dust settled, I could see that amazingly, they had made the drop unharmed! The only casualty of the day was one of the wooden pins that was damaged as it was hammered out of its hole in the tenons. All of the beams were held together only with their mortice and tenon joints and the wooden peg that joined them. No nails were used, although we pulled plenty of them out of the siding. Tom told me octagon shaped wooden pins were used in the round holes as they were tighter than round pins would have been. I made a new pin for the damaged one.
The cottage after five years of blood, sweat, and tears….finished for now. Later we added a deck on this side, and a granary addition guest room on the north side.
Wednesday, July 18, 1979, my journal entry
“The whole barn is down!” And moved to its new location! We would be able to get the posts and beams up on their new foundation and braced before the winter winds and snow flew. Working by hand, block, and tackle, it was going to be five years before we could move in, but Barth’s barn has become our safe haven and a well-loved family retreat for many years. And it will continue to be for the next generation and the one after that.
All photos and quotes courtesy Lynn Spitznagel Suttons journal
There will be more about the relocation of the Barth Barn and other historic buildings in the area in the coming exhibit at the Putnam Cloud Museum in Omena this summer, along with the 20th anniversary celebration of the move of the museum itself.