I grew up in Eagle Rock, a little community on the northernmost edge of L.A. nestled between Glendale and Pasadena,and right at the bottom of my street was a neat old building that caught my attention every time I passed it. Known as the Jenny C Brayton BLDG, it was built in 1923 with three retail spaces on the first floor, and six small apartments on the second. I had always thought it would be nice to live there, as the building had this really interesting classic Hollywood film look about it. Unfortunately, a series of disinterested owners had sucked every dime of profit out of it while making the cheapest shoddy repairs possible whenever something needed fixing.
Then, a little over ten years ago, I noticed that for several days all of the windows were open in the apartment at the south east corner the building, and it was plain to see that it was empty. This is the first time I'd been aware of a vacancy in the building, so I made some inquiries, got in touch with the landlord (who turned out to be an older guy that lived just up the street) and he showed me the apartment. It was a complete disaster, but I loved it. I had always planned to buy an older Arts and Crafts style home and restore it, and decided this apartment would be a good place to develop the skills I'd need to do that in the future. So the landlord and I came to an agreement, and I got started.
Well, renovations seldom ever go according to plan and this one was no exception. Everywhere I looked, things were worse than I'd expected, and the closer I looked, the worse they got. All of the woodwork had originally been stained and varnished, but was now covered in a dozen layers of paint, some of which were truly unfortunate colors. Much of the plaster was loose on the wooden lath so that major soft spots could be felt, and the floors along the wall in the living room had had some very large and unattractive steel straps bolted to them as part of an earthquake mod. The roof drain for the entire building passed through the south wall at the southeast corner right above the living room ceiling, and had leaked into the living room repeatedly, destroying the nearby plaster on the ceiling and wall as well as buckling the hardwood floor. Sloppy work from both plumbers and electricians had left a number of studs cut completely in two in two separate walls, and none of the drains would allow more than a slow trickle to pass. Most of the doors were either missing or badly warped, and to top it all off, the last tenant (whose body had been found on the floor of the living room several days after he’d passed) was a chain smoker, so everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, was coated in a thick layer of tar. It was absolutely disgusting. Anyways, you should have a pretty good picture of what things looked like now.
As I surveyed this carnage, I couldn’t help thinking that without an intervention of some sort, this wonderful old building would have a date with a wrecking ball rather sooner than later. So I set out to change the buildings fate by restoring this one apartment to its former glory in the hopes that the current or future owners would see the potential that was there. After all, anything I did to this one could be done to the others as well.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a single before photo to share, but the building traded hands again recently, and the new owners seemed rather excited to meet me. It seems that as I had hoped, they saw the restoration of apartment B and decided the building had too much potential to pass up. I spent a couple of hours talking to them this past Saturday and finally took some pictures of the work I’d done more than ten years ago. So if you're interested in early twentieth century architecture, here's a brief tour of apartment B in the Jenny C Brayton Bldg in Eagle Rock.
This first photo is a look through the front door of the apartment. The doorway to the right leads to a small bathroom and straight ahead is the kitchen. All of the interior walls were stripped down to the studs allowing for upgrades to the plumbing and wiring. Once these upgrades were completed, the walls were re-skinned in 5/8" drywall, real solid stuff. I made all of the molding, door frames, and baseboards throughout the apartment, so I'm a little puzzled as to why the door stop strip is missing from the jamb. The little door to the right down near the floor provides access to the shot off valves for the bathtub.
Then, a little over ten years ago, I noticed that for several days all of the windows were open in the apartment at the south east corner the building, and it was plain to see that it was empty. This is the first time I'd been aware of a vacancy in the building, so I made some inquiries, got in touch with the landlord (who turned out to be an older guy that lived just up the street) and he showed me the apartment. It was a complete disaster, but I loved it. I had always planned to buy an older Arts and Crafts style home and restore it, and decided this apartment would be a good place to develop the skills I'd need to do that in the future. So the landlord and I came to an agreement, and I got started.
Well, renovations seldom ever go according to plan and this one was no exception. Everywhere I looked, things were worse than I'd expected, and the closer I looked, the worse they got. All of the woodwork had originally been stained and varnished, but was now covered in a dozen layers of paint, some of which were truly unfortunate colors. Much of the plaster was loose on the wooden lath so that major soft spots could be felt, and the floors along the wall in the living room had had some very large and unattractive steel straps bolted to them as part of an earthquake mod. The roof drain for the entire building passed through the south wall at the southeast corner right above the living room ceiling, and had leaked into the living room repeatedly, destroying the nearby plaster on the ceiling and wall as well as buckling the hardwood floor. Sloppy work from both plumbers and electricians had left a number of studs cut completely in two in two separate walls, and none of the drains would allow more than a slow trickle to pass. Most of the doors were either missing or badly warped, and to top it all off, the last tenant (whose body had been found on the floor of the living room several days after he’d passed) was a chain smoker, so everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, was coated in a thick layer of tar. It was absolutely disgusting. Anyways, you should have a pretty good picture of what things looked like now.
As I surveyed this carnage, I couldn’t help thinking that without an intervention of some sort, this wonderful old building would have a date with a wrecking ball rather sooner than later. So I set out to change the buildings fate by restoring this one apartment to its former glory in the hopes that the current or future owners would see the potential that was there. After all, anything I did to this one could be done to the others as well.
Unfortunately, I don’t have a single before photo to share, but the building traded hands again recently, and the new owners seemed rather excited to meet me. It seems that as I had hoped, they saw the restoration of apartment B and decided the building had too much potential to pass up. I spent a couple of hours talking to them this past Saturday and finally took some pictures of the work I’d done more than ten years ago. So if you're interested in early twentieth century architecture, here's a brief tour of apartment B in the Jenny C Brayton Bldg in Eagle Rock.
This first photo is a look through the front door of the apartment. The doorway to the right leads to a small bathroom and straight ahead is the kitchen. All of the interior walls were stripped down to the studs allowing for upgrades to the plumbing and wiring. Once these upgrades were completed, the walls were re-skinned in 5/8" drywall, real solid stuff. I made all of the molding, door frames, and baseboards throughout the apartment, so I'm a little puzzled as to why the door stop strip is missing from the jamb. The little door to the right down near the floor provides access to the shot off valves for the bathtub.
