The Nicholson House is sold.
Developers bought everything on Nicholson, we were one of the last to sell. We did not live there anymore anyway and the house was falling apart. Mom found a new house in Magnolia Woods where she can retire, so all is well that ends well. It was very sad to lock that door for the last time.
I took some pictures before I left.
7 comments:
The end of an era.
Nicholson has changed so much. The rest of Baton Rouge, too.
Old ties fraying, but bright new things on the horizon, yes?
--Layne
The NIcholson house was the first place that felt like home when I moved to Baton Rouge. Thank you for sharing. xo ha
It's almost erie-those pictures of the house so empty. All my memories of that house are so full of life...You introducing me to The Smiths and the Turtle Quiche Pages and thinking for myself, the "seafoam green love machine", Penny, Morgan, and the day I brought you a tiny helpless fuzzball you named Sage, Gawain playing LPs of Andy Gibb while we laughed and pretended to disco dance in the living room, if you try to wake Jeff up from a nap so he can go get his passport be sure to stand at a safe distance because he comes up swinging, Sparky busting another drumhead and giving me the metal label from it as a prized posession, Mom Rosemary giving me my first cooking lessons-sauted mushrooms still make me remember her. There was always lots of love and acceptance at the Nicholson House, and we all felt like no matter where we lived, when we were there, we were home.
God, the things that we did in that house. Almost all these pictures are the scene of some memory I have.
Wow, it is stunning to see the house empty like that. I have so many memories of the house, starting with high school and all through practically living there. I remember doing sound recordings in the living room/dinning room. It seems strange to think of it now. I was by there about a month ago and it brought back so many memories.
Amy Hollensworth
Nicholson House, goodbye. The memories: wedding in the backyard, New Year's Eve parties, Good Good Friday, strobe light laundry throwing, losing my pick-up truck in the driveway, etc....
This makes my heart ache. That was the scene of such crazy love and friendship and immaturity and maturity and growing up and refusing to grow up. I see the photos and think of dinner parties, teenage angst, terrific music, Rosemary, the fabulous Brumfield brothers and a crash pad for post high school dances! I also think of when your dad died and the mourning that went on in that house.
She was so, so good. She both tolerated more than she had to and provided more than she had to. She will be missed...
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