A Labor of Love

By Julie Jaskol | March 22, 2025 | Photography by Christopher Gonzalez

Michael Spera feels the rewards of historic home ownership when he’s sitting on the porch of his Pomona, California, Craftsman home with good friends and a glass of good Scotch.

For Nancy and Adam Riebeling, it will be hosting Thanksgiving once they’ve completed the restoration of their bungalow in the historic Shaw’s Garden district of St. Louis, Missouri.

And for Beth Dieckhoff, it happens whenever she returns to her Fullerton, California, Storybook Cottage home. “I’m happy to see my house every time I drive or walk up to it,” she said. “To me it has a quirky, sweet, welcoming personality. I never get tired of it.”

These are the satisfactions of caring for a historic home, the payoff for the painstaking research, the expense, the meticulous attention to detail, and the hundreds (thousands?) of careful, informed choices that go into the stewardship of a piece of history.

And each of these owners will tell you that the challenges of restoring a historic house require a deeper commitment than mere home ownership.

“The big thing I would tell people is that it’s like taking care of an aging parent,” Spera said. “It is really cool, but there’s so much homework that I would implore you to do.”

Restoring old things comes naturally to Spera. As curator of rolling stock and equipment (anything that moves) at the Colorado Railroad Museum, he restored old trains. When he moved to California to become an engineering services manager at Disney, he took his first plunge into historic home ownership with a circa 1908 bungalow in Pomona’s Lincoln Park Historic District.

Built for Sunkist president John C. Gapp, the bungalow was designed by architects Sumner P. Hunt and Silas Reese Burns with input from architect Henry Mather Greene. A bad citrus harvest in 1908 may have delayed its completion, Spera speculates; the Gapps moved in at the end of 1912.

“There’s not a lot of paper on this house, but the city of Pomona and Los Angeles County Assessor’s Office were so nice and helpful,” Spera said. “They really did a deep dive.” He also relied on more extensive records on a nearby home that was almost identical. And he didn’t hesitate to put on a pair of coveralls and crawl through the attic and crawlspace with an inspector.

“I went in with my eyes wide open,” he said. “I didn’t mind a project, but I didn’t want to get into foundation issues, major plumbing, or plaster repair. You can fix all that; it’s just a matter of TLC—that’s time, labor and cash—but it’s hard to find someone who can do it. I challenge you to find a good plasterer these days.”

Dieckhoff, a retired English as a second language teacher, knows well the difficulty of finding people to work on historic homes. “We’ve had to re-roof a couple of times, which is a major undertaking with the swooping style of roof on this house,” she said. “I had one roofer pull up and refuse to get out of his truck. ‘Nope, I’m not doing that.’”

She recalls another repair person who tackled the original gravity-fed heating system (which she has since updated) and said, “OK, I fixed it, but don’t ever call me again.”

Dieckhoff’s house was built in 1927 as a model home by Better Homes in America, a nationwide campaign to remedy the nation’s post-World War I housing shortage with modest, well-built, affordable homes. While it may have represented the model of efficiency in 1927, nearly 100 years later it presents some challenges, including original windows that let in dust and drafts.

“It’s not an efficient home as far as energy goes,” she said. “When you bring a house into the 21^st century you have that quandary. ‘Do you replace the beautiful old windows?’ I choose not to.”

The Riebelings of St. Louis are also sticking with their single-pane windows, despite their architect’s advice to replace them. And they’re insisting on two-and-a-quarter-inch white oak floors with no bevels, despite today’s trend toward wide planks. “Windows and floors just make a house look correct,” Nancy said. “They don’t have to be perfect, but they have to feel right.”

They were delighted to find their 1914 bungalow on a half-acre on a quiet street in St. Louis, which doesn’t have a large stock of bungalows. “I feel like anytime you watch a movie or TV, bungalows embody homeyness, always in style, always timeless and classy,” Nancy said.

Both Nancy and Adam spent portions of their Southern Illinois childhoods in bungalows. “Adam’s parents gutted and fixed up a bungalow,” Nancy said. “We have pictures of Adam as a child in Spiderman pajamas holding a drill.”

Adam’s skills have matured; he’s planning to make wainscoting, colonnades, and cabinets in the kitchen and bathrooms.

They have already removed aluminum awnings, reroofed, replaced rafter tails, and re-landscaped, but have yet to launch the bulk of this “pretty massive restoration project,” Nancy said. “We’re making sure we’re restoring, not remodeling. The key is to stay true to the original materials and architectural styles.”

They’re keeping original cabinets and millwork, removing the drop ceiling, and foregoing a kitchen island for a period-correct work table.

They’re also recreating the board-and-batten plate rail which several of their neighbors remember seeing in the house. “That’s one of the fun things about this neighborhood. Several families have lived there their whole lives and have little stories about this house,” Nancy said.

The Riebelings live in a historic district, which helps ensure the integrity of the neighborhood’s historic homes. Similarly, Spera’s house is part of the Lincoln Park Historic District. Dieckhoff and her neighbors are seeking similar designation for their immediate Fullerton neighborhood, which has not yet been designated an historic district.

And although being in a historic district limits some changes owners can make to the street views of their homes, Dieckhoff thinks it offers useful guidelines for homeowners. “You chose to live in a historic district because of the charm of the old homes. Preserving that charm increases your property’s value, so do yourself a favor and don’t screw it up,” she said.

Spera agrees. “If you want a historic home, you need to understand you’re a custodian, not just an owner. That’s what preservation is all about. Kind of do no harm.”

These principles are foremost in their minds as the Reiblings embark on their restoration. They plan to stay true to the Arts & Crafts ethic of living simply and creating things that last forever, while at the same time reflecting the lives they live today.

The costs are daunting, they admit. And their family of four will live in the basement for the duration of the project.

But it’s worth it when they think about the rewards to come. “We picture ourselves retiring here,” said Nancy. “You never know, there may be a wedding here someday.”