Category: St. Clair Living

On A Clear Day You Can See Forever

Story Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Michael Callahan

When Todd and Liz Wheeles went house-hunting, they looked for something off the beaten path. They found it in a small hunting cabin on 115 acres atop Bowlin Bluff, a place so remote even the mail carrier and the garbage man have trouble getting to it.

“We have a post office box, and we carry the garbage out as we leave,” Liz says. “We often have to keep friends on the phone and guide them in or meet them at the bottom of the hill and drive them up.”

The only way in or out is via a dirt road that’s best traveled by truck or an all-terrain vehicle. The drive is worth the effort, though. The view at the top is breathtaking.

The house sits 30 feet from a granite bluff that’s about 1,070 feet in elevation. From their deck, the Wheeleses can see Bald Rock Mountain eight miles away. As for the sunsets, “breathtaking” doesn’t come close to describing them.

“The sunsets up here are spectacular,” says Todd. “But we enjoy the deck any time of the day, whether it’s coffee in the morning, wine in the afternoon, or whiskey by the night fire.”

By knocking out a side wall and adding a 30-by-20-foot den, gutting the kitchen and both downstairs bathrooms, then extending the back porch to wrap around the new room, they turned a cabin with a view into a cozy home with ample space for a family of six.

The original cabin had a small living room and eat-in kitchen when the Wheeleses bought it a year ago. Floors throughout the house were covered in mismatched linoleum, there was a small chimney and window on the side wall, and a small deck off the kitchen. “There were deer heads hanging everywhere,” Liz says. They replaced all the flooring with natural hickory, added wainscoting upstairs and painted every room in the house.

 Integrity Cabinets of Ashland built new kitchen cabinets and all the bathroom vanities out of solid hickory. The couple chose Integrity because Todd is from Ashland and went to school with its owner, David Williams. The countertops in the kitchen and bathrooms are made of granite. Removing the side wall opened up the kitchen to the new den and created a large dining area between them. Edison lights hang over a 10-foot long dining table and matching benches made of salvaged pine by The Vintage Station of Bessemer. The table’s length allows plenty of seating for Todd, Liz and their four children. “Thanksgiving, there were 11 of us here, and we didn’t take up half the table,” Liz says.

Todd wanted a larger shower in the master bathroom, so they closed up a tiny laundry closet in the kitchen that adjoined the master suite to get some extra space. They used re-claimed tin tiles for the bathroom ceiling.

The side wall they removed had one small chimney, but the house now has two. They stand back-to-back, in the den and on the deck behind it. Both are constructed of hand-laid, stacked stone. They share the same foundation, but the one in the Great Room is a wood-burning fireplace lined with firebrick, while the outside fireplace is a firebox with a stove-pipe chimney.

Although Liz got help with furniture selections and decorating from Cindi B. Jones of Savvy Shoestring Interiors, the two leather sofas in the den were Todd’s idea. The two mission-style arm chairs at the front window came from Liz’s father’s house in New Orleans, and an antique dining chair that belonged to her great-grandmother is placed next to the fireplace.

The fox skin hanging over the chair was Todd’s whimsical purchase from a shop near Gulf Shores. Jones helped Liz find the wing chair placed at another window, some lamps, side tables and art work. The den has a tongue-in-groove pine ceiling with cedar beams.

The stairs to the second floor were rebuilt using hickory treads and pine kick plates.

Upstairs, the Wheeleses added pine tongue-in-groove wainscoting, stained the same color as the woodwork throughout the house. All of the beds there, as well as the king-size bed in the master bedroom downstairs, were made out of reclaimed wood by The Vintage Station of Bessemer and have solid wood frames.

One child’s bed has a horizontal headboard made with random-length wood planks, some stained to match the woodwork, others painted white. In another child’s room, the headboard is made with a wood frame and tin inserts from an old church ceiling and is painted white. A third headboard is a reclaimed door turned horizontally. The upstairs bathroom ceiling is made from more reclaimed tin tiles, and its shower curtain has a deer motif. “We wanted the look of a log house without having to build one – a house with a woodsy feeling inside,” says Liz.

Sentimental family heirlooms add to the charm of the upstairs, too. Liz used a table that belonged to her dad in one child’s bedroom, and another of her great-grandmother’s dining chairs in another. A metronome that used to sit atop her grandmother’s piano rests silently on a window sill. Despite the fact that the sun comes up at the front of the house, it bathes the back of the house in a soft glow that penetrates the upstairs window panes. “The kids love it,” Liz says.

Because of the children, Todd and Liz did not want the upstairs shut off from the downstairs. So, their contractor, Rick Layfield of Rick Layfield Construction in Ashville, solved that problem by leaving the end of the hallway open to the Great Room. Layfield framed heavy-gauged wire with pine so the kids can see into the room below, without falling over or through the railing. He repeated that same type of structure as an extension of the stair rail at its bottom end, and again around the deck.

“We wanted the house to blend with its surroundings, so we painted the outside a mossy green,” says Todd. Layfield matched the cement-board siding outside and the metal roofing that was on the original house to extend around and over the room addition. He also built a small step porch in front and another, gated set of steps off the front of the deck.

Plastic chairs adorn the deck until the Wheeleses can decide what they want permanently. Meanwhile, they have to stack the chairs and place them against the house when not in use because the wind is so strong on the bluff that it will carry loose, lightweight furniture down the mountain.

“We are on a ridge, almost like a peninsula,” Todd says. “I’m a map guy, and in my topographical map book, the mountain we’re on is called Backbone Mountain.” Todd used that same map to chart the winding paths of the two trails he had bulldozed through the property, which come in handy when he and his son and their friends want to hunt.

Unfortunately, the trails don’t connect. “It’s so steep and rocky, we’d have to cut through someone else’s property to connect them,” he says.

Cattle during the week, weddings on weekends

Story by Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Michael Callahan

What started as letting a few friends “borrow” their barn to hold weddings has turned into a full-fledged event venue for the St. John Family in Pell City. Unlike other barns built specifically for events, this one is a cow barn that houses registered Hereford heifers and gets pressure-washed for special occasions.

“We went public in January of 2016,” says Locke St. John, one of two sons of farm owners Joy and Kent St. John. “As of the first of November, we’d had 12 weddings, and we had 250 people here to celebrate the (high school) graduation of my brother, Carter.”

Like the farm itself, The Barn at Dry Creek Farms is a family-run operation. Carter, 19, is a freshman at Jefferson State Community College, but has classes only two days a week. The remainder of his time is spent on the farm. Locke, 23, is there all day September through March, the months that he isn’t playing pro baseball for the Connecticut Tigers, a Detroit farm team. Mom and Dad, Joy and Kent St. John, do chores before and after work each day.

“Locke handles a lot of the marketing details and promotions from wherever he might be in the Minor Leagues,” Joy says. “I work all day but when there is an event at The Barn, I go after work and help clean in preparation for or after the event.”

The family lives up the road in a log cabin on 20 acres of land. They purchased another 50 or so acres four years ago to expand their cattle business, and it came with the red barn. They run 60-70 cows, selling the commercial (non-registered) ones at the Ashville Stockyards, and show some of their animals, too. “We do two to five shows a year at the state and national level,” Locke says. “We’ve shown our cows in Colorado, South Dakota, Kentucky, Wisconsin and Texas.”

The St. Johns painted the front of the barn when they started hosting weddings, but left the back side in its rustic, weather-beaten state. They keep mini-lights strung up inside the barn, and small round bulbs at the back, where tables are often set up for a reception or a band might play while people dance on the concrete patio.

“We own 14 tables and 80 chairs, and we’re buying 20 more chairs,” Locke says. “People can rent more tables and chairs if they need them, and they can use the hay loft for over-flows, and some use the stalls, too. One wedding party had a cloth down in each stall to designate various stations, such as a kids’ play area, a crawfish table and a drink stall.”

The Barn has a bathroom and dressing room. Decorated with banners from the shows in which the St. John heifers have competed, the dressing room has bar stools with farm-themed backs, a leather sofa, wide-screen TV, small refrigerator and a deer head on the wall. “One couple brought their small camper for the bride to change in,” Locke adds. When not being used for a wedding, the changing room makes a great hangout for Locke, Carter and friends.

“I would absolutely recommend The Barn at Dry Creek Farms to anyone who wants their special day to be beautiful, easy, and affordable,” one reviewer posted on weddingwire.com, an internet site the St. Johns began using for advertising recently. “They basically give you the key and it’s yours to use. They will offer ideas if you have any questions about how other couples set up for their ceremonies and receptions. On top of that, the barn is located on simply gorgeous property. Overall, just a perfect venue for couples wanting a rustic barn wedding without breaking the bank.”

Martin houses made from gourds flank the barn, a six-stall shed to one side houses farm equipment, trucks and a travel trailer, a second shed protects a John Deere tractor and round hay bales, which the St. Johns bale themselves, and a small grain silo stands between the sheds. Fence panels lying to one side of the barn and the cattle chutes on the other side bear testimony to the fact that this is a real, working farm. The pond, the Dry Creek Farms sign hanging between two bent cedar trees, and the swing next to the barn make picturesque backdrops for wedding, graduation or birthday party photos.

Peak seasons for 2016 were spring and fall, but any season, people have the choice of getting married at the barn or in front of the lake under an arch that was left behind by a wedding party. Rates are different during the week than on weekends, and some wedding parties will rent the venue for two days and hold rehearsal dinner there, too.

While people use their own wedding photographer and planner and do their own decorating and cleaning up after the wedding, the St. Johns move the cows and hose down the floors before the wedding party descends. “During peak seasons, we won’t have the cows in the barn as much so there is less pressure washing to do,” Locke says.

The St. Johns have a web page for their farm, DryCreekFarmsCattle.com, and the event venue has its own Facebook page, The Barn at Dry Creek Farms.

“The Barn at Dry Creek Farms was amazing,” another weddingwire.com reviewer posted. “It was an actual red barn and the pond in front adds so much. It’s a lot of DIY, which makes it fun and the way you want it to be. Many options for ceremony and reception. Also Kent and Joy are great to work with!”

Another reviewer said her party built a dance floor in the middle of the barn and used the stalls as stations for food and drinks and a photo booth.

Although his primary role in the operation is the day-to day farming side of it, Carter helps out with weddings when needed. “The farming side is where my knowledge is at,” he says. “But when there’s something that needs to be done for The Barn venue, I’m there for it.”

His mom says the family works together to do all the chores each day. “That usually entails getting up early to get things done, like checking cows, putting out hay and feeding, before everyone starts their own schedule for the day,” she says.

Working on the farm and helping to run the event venue is a lot of work, Locke says, but he vows that he wouldn’t do it if he didn’t love it. “They have taught my brother and me responsibility and the business part of life,” he says.

Four-legged friend learning to help others

Story by Carol Pappas
Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

Teddy has the kind of face guaranteed to make you smile. Wavy chestnut-colored hair frames a pair of big brown eyes – if you can see them through the hair – that reveal the gentle spirit that resides within.

Around the St. Clair County School System, where he often visits, they call him “Teddy, the Wonder Dog.”

To his owner, Melinda Splawn, director of personnel for the school system, he’s just plain lovable, huggable, affable Teddy whose personality is perfect for bringing comfort to those when they need it most.

Teddy is a Wire-Haired Pointing Griffon who will one day be a Hand in Paw therapy dog, offering that same lovable, huggable, affable personality to people who are in need of a sizable lift in spirits. They may be nursing home residents, Alzheimer’s patients, children in cancer treatment or a weary caregiver. Teddy will be there to brighten the roughest of days.

Teddy’s story begins with a specific search for just the right puppy, according to Melinda. “I wanted one who doesn’t shed. He had to have the temperament for Hand in Paw.” And, because Melinda’s father was an avid bird hunter and she treasured those outings with him, she thought, “if the dog could be a bird hunter, that would really be cool. I didn’t think such a dog existed.”

But as fate usually intervenes in everyday life, Melinda spotted the object of her search or at least the idea of it.

One Saturday, she was at Birmingham’s Pepper Place, an outdoor market, buying fresh vegetables. One of the vendors had a dog with him, and she remarked how “beautiful” the dog was and inquired about the breed.

She asked about his temperament, and the man replied, “He sleeps in the bed with us. He doesn’t shed.” Then, he added, “He loves to swim. He has webbed feet.”

That’s all it took. “Oh my gosh, that dog is wonderful!,” she recalled saying.

Then, she set out to find one just like him. She started looking for online breeders with a simple email message to each one: “Do you have any pups?”

Several answers were “no,” but then she received a reply from a breeder who said he had a puppy, but it was picked out to go to a family with special needs although he was rethinking that decision and would have to know more about her.

Melinda wrote back, pouring out emotions about “my dad’s love of bird hunting, my desire to continue work with Hand in Paw and the opportunity to continue enjoying special times with my dad and brother.”

The breeder said he and his wife spent the night talking about the letter and concluded, “ ‘Your home seems like the perfect place for the dog.’ ”

When she picked him up he was 12 weeks old. Melinda said the longer puppies are with their mother the better it can be. “He bonded with me just that fast. It was amazing.”

But then it was time for a name. She had just watched the Ken Burns’ documentary on the Roosevelts, where his family called Teddy Roosevelt “Great Heart” because of his blend of strength, courage and gentleness.

When she looked at her new puppy, she saw the same attributes. “Although he loved to run and play, this puppy loved to be loved on. He was gentle. That’s the Hand in Paw side, gentle and sweet.”

And that was all it took. “I think we have a Teddy,” she said.

Teddy has already demonstrated his gentleness. He diffused a couple of emotional incidents at the school system, offering comfort merely with his presence.

As he progressed toward the Hand in Paw goal, Melinda took him to a trainer, who exposed him to other people – old, young, children. He was exposed to elevators and electric doors, anything that he might encounter on a Hand in Paw mission, to make sure his reaction was positive, even-tempered. Teddy, of course, passed.

An apparently gifted student, he passed bird training, too.

At 2, Teddy is a bundle of boundless energy, regularly galloping at a frenetic pace through the woods at his favorite exercise spot – the cross country course at St. Clair County High School. He disappears momentarily to take a swim in the marsh among the towering reeds. He emerges, soaked, his tongue swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

He’s unmistakably one happy fella. And judging by the looks of him, he is on the trail of making others who need a lift just as happy.

Bluff View retreat a feast for eyes and soul

Story by Carol Pappas
Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

Cindy Massey never really thinks of herself as lucky. She knows it.

All she has to do is take a panoramic look around the 130 acres of bluffs, a rushing creek, wide open pasture and enveloping woods that climb upward, almost as if they reach to the sky. It is paradise found, hidden away between a pair of north St. Clair County mountainsides.

Welcome to the appropriately named, Bluff View Farm, where Foxxy, Lulu, Arley and Lottie, Cindy’s four rescues, are just as content as their master. And why not? A rustic, cozy suite, a barn with a more than livable loft and dozens of acres of natural beauty are their home. And they make the best use of it, scurrying in and out, up and down voluminous trails or just settling into the perfect spot for a nap – in Cindy’s lap or in an easy chair.

Oh, and don’t forget, John, Cindy’s stepfather, and his two four-footed friends, Bear and Dora. They’re just as content. They live in the cabin just across the way.

It wasn’t always their home. They acquired the property after Cindy’s mother died a few years ago. Cindy, a retired nurse practitioner at Birmingham Heart Clinic and a former helicopter flight nurse, saw the farm as a getaway. “More and more, I found myself making excuses to leave later and later on Sunday,” she said.

Her two horses had been boarded, and she finally made the decision to move them to the farm. “After I moved my horses here, I never left,” she said.

John decided to get out of the big city, too. He moved to the cabin already on the farm. While planning her own cabin, she lived in the barn’s one-bedroom loft, complete with kitchen, sitting room and a mountain view that seemingly has no end. A screened porch overlooks the arena, a meandering creek and a bridge with thick, towering woods on either side of this picture perfect scene acting as curtain wings to a distant mountain backdrop.

It is her vision that makes this place so special. She knew what she wanted when she was looking for acreage in St. Clair County. She could see it. She was working with Brian Camp at Lovejoy Realty, and owner Lyman Lovejoy said he knew of such a place when she described it. Only problem was, it wasn’t for sale.

But Lovejoy persisted, contacting the owner, Tammi Manley, and eventually, Cindy’s vision began to take shape. Tammy agreed to sell.

First, Cindy added special touches to the cabin — a wood burning fireplace and reclaimed wood floors from River Bottom Pine in north Birmingham. Two bridges were added when Cindy’s cabin was built. The first bridge was constructed across the creek to bring building materials to the site. The second bridge was added from the deck from the existing cabin to Cindy’s new cabin.

She redid the barn loft as a quaint, rustic living area, and she enlisted the help of builder Dennis Smothers of Benchmark Construction to create her cabin suite – separate from the existing cabin but joining it in a complementary look and feel.

“It was a bit of a challenge,” Cindy admitted. “But Dennis is a visionary, and he could see it. There is no question. I never could have had this without Dennis,” she said, motioning around the 718 square feet of a dream suite with views all around and special touches that are more like an artist’s creation on canvas than a construction project.

“We had a collaborative, creative relationship,” she said, and they drew the plans to “marry this house with that house (the original cabin). When you drive up, you can see he achieved that.”

A spacious screen porch greets you – along with the dogs – as you enter the suite. Cozy and comfortable, its music is made by the sound of the creek that runs nearby. Its view? Striking bluffs and woods all around.

Step inside, and a wood burning stove with a couple of easy chairs occupy a corner nook whose walls are floor to ceiling windows.

Directly across is a spectacular kitchen with a “truly custom bar” — a sheet of copper that has been allowed to patina, forming its counter top. John Ward, The Concrete Farmer, did the concrete work that finishes the bi-level island bar. He built the farm sink at his place, brought it to its new kitchen and then poured the concrete around it.

Don Leopard of Leopard Construction was the framer, and the structural beams are of repurposed lumber.

In a small space like this, every inch counts, she noted. Bedroom, great room, kitchen and sitting area are all in one open floor plan, but she gave each its own unique feel.

She wanted black skins for the lumber beneath the bar and in the living area. They found them at Evolutia, a lumber yard in north Birmingham. A custom cabinet from River Bottom Pine in the ‘living room’ beneath an oversized flat screen television holds everything from AV components to shoes.

The bedroom is a few steps away, but almost feels as if it is a separate place. The door leading to a separate bathroom and walk-in closet looks to be an old ice house cooler door. The sink is an antique biscuit table. Cabinet handles are old chair casters. Enter the closet through an old weathered, storm shelter door, which is fitting because the closet doubles as a storm shelter with its poured concrete insulation.

Only a few pieces of art – all by noted painter Arthur Price – accent the house. But as Cindy puts it, there’s no need for much. “The art in this house is out the windows” – bluff views all around, trees, sky and sunlight – they are the natural masterpiece.

French doors lead to a garden beneath the bluffs, accented from river rocks found in the creek. Native ferns and hydrangeas surround. It is a peaceful refuge, created by Rodney Griffin of Gardens by Griffin. “He’s so talented,” Cindy said. “He told me, ‘I let the land tell me what to do.’ ”

The land does speak in this place. It is a haven for all seasons. In fall, the leaves’ colorful palette show brightly through angled windows near the top of the A-frame roof line. In winter, the creek overflows its banks like rapids. Spring brings the picturesque colors of seasonal rebirth. And Summer showcases its vibrant greens and myriad hues.

Cindy understands the allure and appreciates just how lucky she is. “I pinch myself every morning that I get to wake up to this.”

By Elaine Hobson Miller
Photos by Wallace Bromberg Jr.

For eight years, Steve and Carla Valdes have been trying to turn their log home on Logan Martin Lake into a 14th-century Japanese-style home. They tore out the country kitchen, removed a clawfoot bathtub, reworked the master bedroom fireplace and painted the door frames black.

Despite their best efforts, it’s still a log house. It’s also a showcase for their Asian art collection, which constantly pulls your eyes away from the rustic American details.

“It looked like a cowboy bunkhouse when we bought it from the bachelor who lived here,” says Steve. “I hope it conveys an Asian feel now.”

The couple were drawn to Asian art when they lived in China and Japan while Steve sold medical devices from India to California for Johnson & Johnson. They began picking up a Burmese temple guard here, a Japanese kimono there, and the first thing they knew, their house was an Asian art gallery. ”My daughter calls it an Asian antiques store,” Steve says.

Carla, who is originally from Tarrant, was an Atlanta-based Delta flight attendant for 32 years. Steve, originally from Miami, grew up around water. They have lived in several countries and traveled all over the world, but wanted to settle in Atlanta when Steve retired 12 years ago. After searching that area for a house, Steve saw the online real estate ad for a log house on Logan Martin Lake, decided Pell City wasn’t so far from Atlanta, and drove over to take a look. “I had never been inside a log house before,” he says. “We walked in, and I said, ‘This is the place.’ I love the warmth of the wood.”

From the outside, the house looks like a typical log home, with wide, square logs and gray chinking. The silent sentinel near the front door, a stone Chinthe (lion-like creature that guards Burmese temples), and the Japanese-inspired lattice work between the porch rails on one side, hint at the treasures within.

Just inside the door, a Buddhist home-worship altar sits on a tall-legged cabinet. A small Buddha rests on top, with a gong behind him. “So much of Asian art is religious,” Steve says, although he isn’t.

Ceramic horses, copies of those found in Chinese burial mounds, stand on the sofa table to the left. Continuing left, on the wall separating the kitchen from the entrance hall, hangs a 14th-century Chinese scroll in a cabinet Steve built for it. As he turns the scroll, the pictures change, revealing a series of seaside and forest scenes done in ink on silk. “It’s a 30-foot-long story,” Steve says.

He replaced the maple kitchen cabinets with birch and the ceramic-tiled countertops with red and black granite, but the red appears burnt orange. “It looked more red when we picked it out,” Steve says. “We thought it would pop, but the color is swallowed up by the wood.” Stainless-steel appliances include a Jen-Air range with ceramic cooktop, bought because it has a downdraft. “We didn’t want a draft hood blocking the view of the lake,” Steve says.

In a corner of the dining area stands a tall, free-form, paper lamp, signed by its Japanese artist, although Steve can’t recall his name. “This is my most prized possession from an artistic point of view,” he says. “From a value point of view, it would be the Chinese scroll.” A four-section, Asian-style curio cabinet nearby houses part of Carla’s Madame Alexander doll collection, one of the few feminine touches in the house.

Light pours into the great room from two sets of French doors and the fan-shaped transom above one set, illuminating the wide-plank pine floors and the tongue-in-groove pine ceiling. Both ceiling and floors are stained a golden oak color. Recessed lights in the vaulted ceiling also shed light on the seating area in front of the fireplace.

An Asian-style open-front curio cabinet on the right side of the fireplace displays more Chinthe temple guards, including a small ceramic pair that are male and female. The painted ostrich egg, meerkat and giraffe figurines are African, yet seem to fit right in with their Asian cousins. A child’s Japanese kimono hangs on the wall behind the curio, while another child-size version and two adult kimonos hang high in the seating area. Bali puppets flank the chimney on stone shelves above the mantel, where a wooden ship rests. An antique Samurai suit of armor from the late 19th or early 20th century drapes a mannequin on the left side of the fireplace.

The master suite features a bathroom with white-washed ceiling boards — Steve’s attempt to lighten the ceiling without losing the grain and texture of the pine. This is the bathroom that had a clawfoot tub on a platform when they bought the house, and when he removed it, “people were clamoring for it,” he says. He replaced it with a jetted-tub next to a shower that has glass on three sides. The vanity has two matching bowls that sit on top, both with a design depicting orange coy swimming in a sea of emerald-green. Hanging over the tub is a geisha looking into a mirror as she puts on her makeup. “It’s an embroidery cloth traditionally used as wrapping paper for important gifts,” Steve says. More Chinthe stand guard from each end of the vanity.

Steve tore out the stone fireplace in the bedroom, which shared a chimney with its twin in the Great Room, and replaced it with black marble. The bedroom has a three-dimensional Mandarin king and queen wall hanging made of ivory and wood and a Chinese secretary that serves as a television cabinet.

An open deck spanned the back of the house when the Valdeses bought it. Steve screened in both ends, leaving the center section unscreened for outdoor grilling. The section that opens off the master suite is furnished in wicker seating that has predominantly black cushions with an off-white design in them. Another favorite piece of Asian art, a Japanese garden lamp, is located on an end table there. The screened porch off the dining area has more wicker, but with striped cushions in green, tan and red. That porch also has a glass-topped end table that Steve made using a gnarly tree stump he found on the property as the base.

Two areas of the 3,000-square-foot home reflect the eclectic side of Steve, who builds wooden model ships, collects military memorabilia and stocks his bar with South African wines and Italian grappa. (The latter is a fragrant, grape-based pomace brandy.) One is the loft overlooking the great room, the other the basement.

That loft was completely open and had been used as a bedroom when Steve and Carla moved in. He tried to make it look as Asian as possible by building a new bannister with an Asian flair and painting it black. He put up a half wall and painted that black, too. Then he turned its under-the-eaves closet into a storage area and the loft into an office. A Cambodian goddess made of wood, twin dragons made from teak and teak dust that was hardened with glue, and some Thai temple rubbings are the primary Asian art touches. Most of the loft is filled with odds and ends of things that Steve happens to like, such as a small pair of Mayan statues, an FDR “Man of the Hour” clock and the scale model of the steamboat Robert E. Lee that Steve built. “It took me a year,” he says of the project. “Now I’m working on a model of the CSS Alabama.” On the log wall behind his computer hangs a propeller from his dad’s airplane with a clock that Steve inserted in the center hole. “Mom and Dad are pilots,” he explains. “I wanted to be, but I’m color blind.”

Lights come on automatically as you descend the pine-plank stairs into the basement, which has Mexican-tiled floors. Framed Confederate war bonds hang on one wall of the hallway, which leads to two guest rooms, a small bathroom, Steve’s “man cave” and a War Room. He calls the bathroom the Florida bath because of the wooden fish that hang on the wall, fish that he carved himself. “The former owner laid part of the tile floor and I did part,” Steve says. “He did the stucco walls.” Unlike the main floor, the basement has round log beams.

His man-cave features exposed log ceiling beams, tree-stump benches, a wooden bar for his wines, a Thai spinning wheel and another display case of Carla’s Madame Alexander dolls. The closet in one of the guest rooms houses his Nazi and South African Army uniforms and his U.S. Navy peacoat. A Korean painting done on silk hangs on one wall of the room, while a triangular table from China or Taiwan (he’s not sure which) stands beside the bed, and Korean puppets and figurines are displayed in a glass-fronted curio cabinet.

He calls the unfinished basement area his “War Room” because of the military memorabilia there. He has Swiss Army helmets, a German propaganda poster, rifles, a radio-controlled PT boat, and a mannequin dressed in his old flight suit, his jungle boots from Vietnam and a flight helmet and Mae West from his Dad. “That’s a medical dummy, actually,” he says of the mannequin. “It has a pacemaker in its chest. Johnson and Johnson was tossing it out in favor of a newer model, and I adopted it.” He also has autographed photos of famous World War II pilots such as George Gay, a Nazi flag, a Confederate flag, a work bench, and the safe from his grandfather’s cigar factory in Tampa.

“My wife doesn’t like this house as much as I do because it’s so masculine,” Steve admits. “It’s like The Lodge. As the real estate agent told us, it’s not a house on the lake, but a lake house.”