When Jeff Boehm first showed his wife, Denise, what he envisioned as their dream home, her initial response was “What are you thinking?”
A 1996 fire had ravaged the historic stone and brick house, built in three sections beginning circa 1800. The interior sustained extensive damage: a collapsed first floor, holes in the roof and major smoke damage throughout. The house was bulldozer-bound. And then came Jeff.
He assured his wife that he had hired an engineer who said that it was structurally sound. “It still had really good bones and a good future,” Jeff said. It didn’t take much to convince Denise. The couple had admired the house many times while visiting War Memorial Park – the house is situated on six acres behind the park. And Denise says, “We always wanted to live in an old house.”
The deal was made and the house was theirs. The adventure had just begun. “The house got worse before it got better,” Denise said, referring to the massive clean-up effort necessary before any renovation could take place. Dumpsters filled with charred, melted and smoke-damaged debris were repeatedly emptied.
Denise remembers that for months “every time you would walk through it, you had to go home and take a shower.” The stench permeated hair, clothes, everything. “A lot of people thought we were crazy,” said Jeff.
But the couple and their two children weren’t living in the house during the renovation, and their shared vision became a shared passion. They began to imagine where in the house they would put all of their stored antiques – a collection that they began accumulating at estate sales while they were just dating in college. “You could pick things up for a song then,” said Denise. Many of the items hadn’t fit in their previous houses and were therefore kept unseen in basements. Here the nostalgic pieces would have a real home and an appropriate backdrop.
Although Jeff had his hands full with his career, his family and overseeing the overhaul of his “new” old home, he had another worrisome matter that needed attending: the resident ghost. The previous owners had told the couple that there was a ghost, but hadn’t elaborated much.
Three months after the Boehms had purchased the home, Jeff had a chat with the supposed spirit. “I came down to the house on Halloween and went down to the basement of the oldest part of the house. I said, ‘We’re coming -- my family’s coming and planning to live here peacefully, and we’re going to try to bring the house back to what it was.’ I also told him that if we had a fight (on our hands), we’d fight back.”
The couple says that since they moved to the house in January of 1997, they’ve had no ghost problems, just encounters. Things like the thudding of heavy boots going up the stairs when no one else is around to make the sound.
And then there was that attic window that kept unlocking and opening by itself, setting off the alarm system. The tiny window is located in a place that is quite difficult to reach. When the couple redesigned the master bedroom, they took out the original ceiling and opened it up to the roof’s slant – creating a vaulted ceiling. The window that kept mysteriously opening is located near the peak of the roof in that room. The only way to get to it is to carefully step across the open structural beams still in place where the bedroom ceiling once was.
Mystified by the recurring problem, Jeff talked to a friend of his at work, a friend who takes the spiritual world very seriously. After providing his friend with background details, she came up with a solution. “You need to take that flag down. That flag is bothering him.” The Boehms had hung an American flag outside in honor of the Fourth of July. Knowing that there had been a Confederate encampment on the property and a Confederate soldier had stayed at the house, Jeff’s friend’s conclusion was that the American flag was upsetting a Confederate ghost. Jeff took the flag down and never had problems with the window again.
In spite of these “encounters,” Denise claims, “We’ve never been frightened or felt threatened.”
Denise describes her decorating style as “relaxed but elegant, urban yet country.” A studio grand piano that Denise played as a child sits in the living/music room next to an antique sleigh/day bed. A full-length mirror stands in the corner reflecting the clean, sophisticated lines. This is the room that suffered the most fire damage. When the Boehms purchased the home, this room had no floor.
“We didn’t do a true restoration. We did a renovation for a comfortable family home.”
The five fireplace mantles were miraculously spared from major damage and so was much of the woodwork, although some moldings and flooring had to be replaced.
As the Boehms sit in their comfortable dining room, looking through “before” pictures, they smile and shake their heads. “We are so happy we saved it,” says Denise, “but no wonder people thought we were crazy!”
Then they muse about the future. “I hope we’re here forever,” says Jeff. “We’ve pictured weddings in the backyard.”
“I feel very connected to this house,” says Denise. “I love it here – we feel destined to live here. I picture my grandchildren coming back here, and I picture me growing old here.”
Denise, 36, is a former teacher and now owns “the anything creative company,” an advertising firm, which she operates from her home. Jeff, 35, is the Director of Business Development for a large subcontractor of pre-cast concrete in Winchester. The Boehms plan to share their home with the public during the 45th Annual Shenandoah-Potomac House and Garden Tour, April 29-30.
SIDEBAR
A brief history of the Silber-Walters House
The Silber-Walters House was established in circa 1800 and was built three sections. The original stone house was built by Christian Silber on a 167-acre tract of land. In 1830, the farm was advertised for sale in The Martinsburg Gazette: a “good stone dwelling house, kitchen, barn, stable, smokehouse, corn house and stone smith shop.” The stone smith shop is still standing, and the enlarged house now measures 77 feet in length.
Located on the edge of Martinsburg along the banks of the Tuscarora Creek, the farm was visited by both sides during the Civil War. John Seibert, who had purchased the farm in 1857, brought a case against the Confederate States for damage “under the use and occupancy of the Confederate Army under Brigadier General Wade Hampton in the sum of Four Hundred & Forty-seven Dollars and Ninety-seven Cents.”
After the war was over, Seibert, said to be disillusioned with how his beautiful farm had been treated, sold the stone house and 160 acres to George P. Walters and James W. Vanmeter. Walters bought out Vanmeter and added the brick Victorian-styled addition in 1866.
Several owners later, homeowner and preservationist Ann Ailes Eyler, saw the property listed in the Berkeley County Landmarks Register in 1977 and in The National Register of Historic Places in 1980, as part of the Tuscarora Historic District. The home belonged to Ann’s son, George Eyler, when an extensive fire occurred in 1996.
The stone wing, constructed during the Federal Period of American architecture, has 23-inch thick walls of native limestone. The first and second brick additions have 14-inch thick walls constructed in seven-row American bond style.
Present owners, Jeff and Denise Boehm, have found a variety of objects of local and national historic significance including photos relating to the Spanish-American War; a pictorial history of the settling of Nome, Alaska; an 1817 one-cent piece and an 1852 gold dollar. Many of the artifacts have been donated to the Berkeley County Historical Society Museum.
