From the time I was a small child, I’ve had the dream of one day living on Chauncey Street.
I remember driving slowly down the street as a little girl. The houses, each a mansion in my eyes, drew my attention. The bumpy, brick-lined street was unique and caused our car to clippity-clop along. That neighborhood was different, gorgeous and dramatic.
Certain ones caught my attention for different reasons, each representing something different and intriguing.
Over the years, I’ve “almost” bought a house along there twice. I’ve toured three previously and on Saturday, I gleefully added another to my list – the Hooper House.
That house, though rough in appearance, has had my attention for many years not because I wanted to live there, but because I wanted to walk inside.
The Adams Young Hooper House, a neatly appointed brick home, sits at the corner of Jefferson and Chauncey Streets. From the front window, across the street, you can see the impressive home of former US Vice President Thomas Riley Marshall, now known as the Whitley County Historical Museum.
Legend has it that Marshall was engaged to Adams and Edith Hooper’s daughter, Catherine, and that on the eve of their wedding day in September of 1878, she died, tragically. Marshall, so in love and so traumatized by the loss, sank into disparity and nearly drowned in the bottle.
I can’t imagine the tinge of sadness Thomas Marshall must have felt as he looked westward from his bedroom window in the home one Jefferson Street and caught a glimpse of the old brick Hooper place every morning upon rising or the familiar glow in those windows as he retired each evening.
How sad that his love was lost just a day before what would have been such a happy occasion? How dreadful that he would have had to look upon that building as a reminder of his lost love?
Perhaps, though, Marshall’s feelings were different. Maybe the house was a reminder of happy times? Either way, life went on for Marshall. He found love again in the form of Lois Kimsey at the age of 40. Eventually, he stood up, swept himself off for a role as governor and later vice president.
That story has captivated me for years.
And, for that story and the countless others I’ve heard about the homes along Chauncey, I am entranced. Maybe, just maybe, one day I’ll add a chapter to my own story there. We shall see.
Jennifer Zartman Romano