Monday, December 3, 2012

So this is my blog... I've decided today to post my first script. I wanted to write a book. I should. My boyfriend thinks my blog should be about my travels to historic places. It will be, however, I also plan to tell my story about my battle to save pieces of history here in Southampton County, VA, and how unwelcome it, no, I, was. Who was I to think that just because my ex husband and I bought a home to settle forever, raise our daughters in, pay taxes on, and was listed on the National Register of Historic Places smack dab in the middle of a neighborhood full of turn of the century homes on the same historic register, that I wouldn't have a say in how the neighborhood was "run"... And that's when it all began...

Not being able to address your concerns to even the police is pretty frightening. They were just there to keep the peace. I personally felt they didn't do their job. We tossed around the idea of selling and moving, but just kept falling in love with our home. It was OUR home! And! it was our investment. The American Dream.

We visited Franklin, VA, in Spring of 1999, and thought "Wow! This looks like a quaint neighborhood." With all of the big old houses that I have always been fascinated with; nobody tells you what's really going on in the neighborhood. I didn't find out for three years after living there that my home was on the National Historic Register. Okay, so it's not Colonial Williamsburg or Jamestown, we were not part of the "Historic Triangle." BUT! We were historic! Franklin had it's own story to tell. As with all historic districts, and the stories can only get better and come alive with artifacts. This is my way of thinking. I become very involved with PTA, Girl Scouts, and so on in the area, and I even formed a Neighborhood Association. That's when the real story started to unravel.