The House That Wasn't There

In 1947, my dad was working for a small electrical company in north central Arizona called The Arizona Power Company. This company had been around the Yavapai County area for a good fifty to seventy years; had brought electricity to most of the townships between Route 66 to the north, and Phoenix to the south, as well as cities in the western part of northern Arizona to as far east as Winslow and Holbrook. With World War II receding into memory, the company began looking forward with an eye toward expansion. Two or three other small companies rebuffed their advances, but one, the Flagstaff Electrical Company, was receptive to being acquired.

Dad had been working in an area east of our home in Prescott, called the Verde Valley. The company had been engaged in a savage battle with the Federal Rural Electric Agency for the past eighteen months for the right to supply electricity to the residents of Oak Creek Canyon, Sedona and several other small communities, and had only recently been awarded the contract for electrical construction in those areas. One Friday, he came home a bit agitated, yet excited, and told mom that he had been offered the foreman's position at Flagstaff, but as there were loose ends to tie up, our family had about a month to consider the offer.

Mom wasn't too pleased as we were just getting our house built. We had just gotten running water into the kitchen, and we were working on the bathroom, putting fixtures in as they were offered on the market. In 1946 and 1947, the country still had not fully converted to civiian goods, and everything was at a premium. There was also the question of me. I was a junior in high school, was doing fairly well, and had just acquired my first boy-friend. I wan't too enthused about moving. My brother was in first grade, and he was considered moveable.

The folks talked about it over supper, and decided to take the company up on its offer of a month to decide. There was just so much to work out. Early the next day, a heavy pounding on the kitchen door awakened all of us. Dad went out to find that it was his boss, who had big news. Dad was to report at Flagstaff the following monday, and we were to be moved up there, kit and kaboodle within two weeks! Dad's protests were brushed aside, so we got ready to move.

He went on up the following monday; mom, my brother Lorin and I went up the next day to look for a house. What a nightmare! No houses anywhere, and the only way a person could get into a local apartment complex was to be working for the government. No exceptions. We finally found a one-bedroom, summer cottage outside Flagstaff. It had a wood stove, no heater, an outhouse, a woodshed, and we had to haul our own water. Primitive, but turned out to be one of my favorite homes.

We moved on election day which was a stormy, gloomy day, and I started school the next day, but the folks agreed to keep looking.

One day, a few months after moving to Flagstaff, mom happened to be driving down a street she hadn't tried before in her house search. She found one. A very nice, frame house. A penciled sign tacked to a stake in the front yard stated it was for rent, those interested were to call a particular telephone number. Needless to say, mom was elated. It was close to town, close to the high school as well as the grade school that Lorin attended. She was so excited, she didn't wait for the school bus to pick Lorin up, but picked him up herself, then went down to find dad.

All three of them went back to the house, parked the car, and then walked around the house. It was about two bedrooms as far as they could tell, a large living room, a big kichen, and I believe it had a fireplace. Mom was overjoyed to see it had hardwood floors. There was a large garage in back, and all in all, it was perfect!

We were a happy group at supper that night. I was happy because living five miles out of town put a damper on my social life, and Lorin was happy to be able to walk to school. Mom fairly flew through her housework the next morning, because she wanted to get to town to rent the house before it was taken from under us.

She decided on the way into town to drive by the house to check the telephone number. There was a problem. No house. Only a vacant lot. Disbelieving her own eyes, mom drove around the block, in fact, she drove around several blocks, trying to make sure she had the right one. Each time, she circled back to the block in question. Same thing. No house. No sign in the yard, nothing.

Dad and Lorin were stunned that evening. They had walked around the house. They had peeked in the windows, in fact, Lorin was saying recently that he could still "feel" the window sill on his fingers when he leaned on it to look into the house.

A few years later, I married a boy from my high school class at Flagstaff. He had lived in Flagstaff all his life, and mom asked him about the house. Both she and dad described it in detail to him, but to their surprise, he could not remember there ever being a house on that lot. His dad was a local carpenter having had built most of the houses in Flagstaff, and to make sure, my husband asked his dad, giving him all the details my folks had provided. His reply was that that particular lot had never been built on, and he knew of no plans to ever build on it.

It that is so, what did the folks and Lorin see that day?

By: snlygstr17@yahoo.com