Russell Trueman reveals the dollhouse that sits in the upstairs dormer window of his home. |
I couldn’t believe it as I counted
down the civic numbers on Route 6 past Shinimicas and into Truemanville. Of all
the houses I could be visiting, it was the one that has intrigued me for almost
15 years. Every trip to Amherst along Route 6 means a glance at the huge farm
house with the dollhouse in the upstairs dormer window.
The mystery was solved shortly
after I knocked on Russell Trueman’s back door.
“It’s a model of the house,” the
89-year-old father of six explained after he led me upstairs to where the
dollhouse sits on the window seat. He removed the roof, which is all one piece,
and revealed the full furnished downstairs rooms inside. “I made it ten feet to
the inch.”
I don’t know what I expected but
like anything that is beyond our imaginings, getting up close to this dollhouse
left me astonished and delighted.
I located the door where I came
in, and traced my steps through the dollhouse to the stairs. The house is huge;
there are so many rooms. There was a piano in the dollhouse “but it’s long
gone,” Russell said then picked up a piece. “Here’s the old television.”
The dining room chairs were
delicate, and the china cabinet had a glass door. There was the washer and
dryer just inside the door through which I’d entered, and the kitchen cupboards
were replicas of the ones he still used.
As he put the roof back on,
Russell pointed out the chimneys. “The flues are made from individual wooden
bricks that I glued together.”
No one has ever truly played with
the dollhouse; his children were grown when he made it, and his grandchildren
have rearranged the furniture on occasion.
“It’s no good for anything, it’s
just something to look at,” he said. “I just made it because I wanted to make
it. It’s so large, people don’t have room for it.”
Russell has been making
furniture, in miniature and in full size, most of his adult life. He has made annual
Christmas ornaments for his daughter and son-in-law who live next door, and
dressers for the bedrooms in his home.
“I have a wood shop connected to
the house and I can go right down steps to it,” he told me. “That was the only
thing around here I called mine; everything else I called ‘ours’. When someone
said I was in my room, they knew exactly where I was at.”
But it is a space Russell hasn’t
ventured into in more than seven years.
“My wife, Hilda, passed away in
2009, after my daughter and I took care of her at home for a year. I didn’t do
any work in the shop then and I haven’t been down since. I lost all interest
after she was gone, and now my eyesight for near-work is no good.”
My visit with Russell lasted over
an hour and after 15 years of wondering about the dollhouse in the window, I
discovered it was simply one of many stories the dollhouse house had to tell,
all of them finely detailed, heartbreakingly true, and crafted out of love.
This photo was taken in late afternoon but you can see the dollhouse dormer in the real dormer. |
I treasure this - the story and the man. You've met a gem.
ReplyDeleteA true gentleman with a very creative gene combined with a loving and caring heart, all of which in abundance. Thank you for sharing this visit.
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