the dailypic 5188 yr15 075 The Kenny’s House

This week, twenty years ago, we moved into our house. 19 Lincoln Street, the house I was not supposed to see. Though raised in Medway, I had a stint of living in Bellingham for a few years. Our first house, 31 Sheila Drive, was perfect for us at the time, but it was meant to be a short-term residence. Buy, build, move on. I wanted “anywhere but Medway”, my wife wanted anywhere “including Medway”. My wife and I are not shoppers. One of the things I love about her the most. We want a house, we will take a day and find a house. The market was different back then. October 18th, 2023, our 6th wedding anniversary. We toured houses set up by our real estate agent and friend Carol. I remember pulling her aside and quietly saying – no houses in Medway, half joking. Hopedale, Millis, Franklin, we looked all around… then she said she had one more. She pulled down Lincoln St, which was her street. Passed her house, and parked in front of 19. There was a crew there redoing the roof – I would find out later they did a crap job, and she said this was the last one. My wife said this was the one before we went into the house.

There was no point in fighting. This would be our house. It was old, empty except for a piano, and needed work, but livable. It had belonged to the Kenny’s, a family I knew of in town. They had been renting it out for years. The seven (I believe) boys and their sister had all grown up and moved out. Their Mom was a fixture at the local grocery store when I was a kid, everyone knew her. Two months later, we moved in. We have done a lot to it, added the barn, tried to burn it down twice, heating, bathroom, doors, windows, brought in four dogs, two cats, the four and two year old we started with are now adults, the 300+ year old tree in the front yard is gone, and parts of the original roof (not joking) were just taken off a couple years ago when I redid the roof the right way. We have given it twenty years of its 140+ years. I hope to give it many more. I was told just this past Sunday, “You live in Kenny’s house, right?” I am not sure how many years I need to be here before it is the Rice’s House. Maybe the next family will hear about the photographer who lived here with the giant dogs. Though it might be akward since I told the kids to bury me in the dirt basement.

tr/trp