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HGTV is my methadone. I read real estate listings for pleasure. I cannot resist an open house. My weekends are only complete after several trips to Lowe’s. So when my fiancé heard I was writing an article on an historic home in Dilworth, he warned me, like a parent to a kid in a pet store: “You’re only looking. We are NOT buying anything.”
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
I can only describe it like this: runners have their “runner’s high.” I get a “real estate high.”
“My name is Morgan Fogarty, and I am an addict.”
That’s the first step, right?
This is not an experimental phase for me. My addiction runs deep, and it’s genetic. I inherited it from my mother. I appreciate the beauty of granite countertops and hardwood floors and crown molding and under-mounted sinks. But that stuff’s all cosmetic, and you can find it anywhere.
It’s really the bones of a house that make it special. So when I saw the Villalonga-Alexander house for the first time, it wasn’t the shiny newness of the updated kitchens or baths that sold me. It was the house’s bones that swept me off my feet. I fell in love with the history, the grandeur, and, conversely, the contemporary livability of the home.
The monkey was on my back as soon as I pulled up and parked at the curb.
From the sidewalk, the Villalonga-Alexander house looks quite daunting. It’s big and white and imposing. The architecture is Colonial Revival style. Your first impression of the home might lead you to believe it’s the kind of house that’s more museum than anything else – the kind of home where the furniture is off limits for actual use and there are pictures of horses and hounds on the walls inside. Never judge a book by its cover.
You might expect a massive wrought-iron gate or a solid brick privacy fence protecting such a grand house, but no. There is, instead, a white picket fence. It’s quaint and charming and, frankly, very sweet to the see this mammoth house contained by this little fence. Further up, the unusually wide front porch unfolds at your feet. It’s a trademark of the Colonial Revival style. This porch is made for people-watching and sweet tea drinking. Like any addict, I’m already wishing for more of this place – and I haven’t yet set foot inside.
The foyer is breathtaking but at the same time very down to earth. It’s warm, welcoming and friendly – and massive. This foyer is bigger than most people’s living rooms. Some might mistake it for a living room. After all, it does have a fireplace. That fireplace sparked a blaze that badly damaged the house in 1948. Now the only hint that fire gutted the entrance is the wood floors. The foyer floors are much newer than those in the rest of the house. They were replaced the year of the fire – and still have much more character than anything you’d find in a new house.
In fact, the only new feature in the foyer is the coiffure ceiling. The current owner wanted the entrance to be “spectacular.” Mission accomplished. In front of me, next to that gorgeous fireplace, is a gracious staircase. To the left is a bright, airy sitting room. To the right is a room out of any guy’s “man-cave” fantasy, but handsome enough that your wife wouldn’t dream of banishing you to the basement. Hearty and masculine, it’s a room perfectly suited for the pool table that currently occupies it.
OK, I’ve already admitted I have a problem. What’s the next step, something about recognizing that an outside power could help me? Yeah, Ed McMahon could help me if he delivered a big, fat check to my front door so I could make a down payment on the Villalonga-Alexander house. I digress.
The main floor of the house is arranged in a circle around the central staircase. We head through various sitting rooms – I can’t keep track of them all. There are solid wood pocket doors, some with beautiful inlay detailing. There are six fireplaces. All are substantial, decorative, and full of character. All the rooms are bright, beautiful, charming. The ceilings are high, the windows enormous. The rooms all feel current yet still manage to be in step with the house’s history.
In the kitchen the first thing I see is Key lime green. That’s the color of the kitchen. Key lime walls with meringue-colored cabinets and countertops. It looks delicious. I don’t imagine they had Key lime paint in 1901. But you know what? It works. It’s cozy and comfy and you can see yourself making cookies in the winter and lemonade in the summer. This room boasts new custom cabinets, a farm sink, a center island with breakfast bar, and a vegetable sink. Yes. In the Villalonga-Alexander house, even the vegetables get their own special sink.
There’s a lazy, bleary-eyed cat napping on the window seat in the kitchen. He obviously knows a good thing when he sees it. So did the homeowners. They bought the place in 2000 and boy, did they have their work cut out for them. Allen Tate Realtor Jan Kachellek said the house used to be an eyesore in the Dilworth neighborhood. As recently as 2000 the home was run down, vacant, and had started to attract some undesirable characters.
Even though we are utterly alone in the house, with the exception of that sleepy cat, Kachellek drops her voice, lowers her chin, and tells me, uncertainly, “It actually used to be a bordello.” I’m not sure if at that point she thought I’d run screaming from the house or what, but I just laughed. This stately Dilworth house a bordello? It’s on the North Carolina Historic Registry! It’s significant Charlotte architecture! A bordello? I decide to take Kachellek’s word for it, since I can’t find any historical paperwork to confirm the claim.
There’s more to the house’s history than its (rumored) brief stint as a bordello. The Villalonga-Alexander house has been around since 1901. It was designed by Charles Hook, the same guy who designed the Duke Mansion, City Hall, the Masonic Temple, and the Belk Mansion, to name a few. The original owner, John Villalonga, was the president and treasurer of the Charlotte Roof and Paving Co. and the president of Charlotte Brick Company. Villalonga and his wife Constance moved in April 1901. After only two years, they sold the home in 1903 and moved to New York City. The next owner, Robert Alexander, was a cotton broker. The house remained in the Alexander family until 1938 when the Dasher family purchased it. Mom Dasher made a few extra bucks by renting out rooms to boarders. (Hey, there’s definitely enough space, so why not?)
Then, for reasons not clearly laid out in any of the history books, the house was forgotten. Until 2000.
The current owners bought the place and finally showed it the TLC it had been needing for years. They restored the home to its former charm and style. They also added some pretty cool modern luxuries. There’s an exercise room on the third floor. Out back there’s a resistance lap pool, a pond, and a gorgeous deck. Just enough yard for a couple of dogs or a couple of kids, and definitely enough room for a great backyard party.
Oh, and did I mention the Villalonga-Alexander house is for sale? For a cool 1.5 million bucks, this piece of Charlotte history is all yours.
Admit you must rely on an outside power to help you overcome your addiction. Yes, I readily admit that Ed McMahon must show up on my doorstep with the down payment check, or the V-A House will never be mine.
You’ve got to see it this house to appreciate it. Real estate agent Kachellek says many of her clients are overwhelmed by the house on their first visit and need to come back a second time to absorb it all. “Overwhelming” is not a word I’d use to describe this house. Granted, it’s very big. But it’s also gorgeous. Historic. Comfy.
This addiction thing is powerful. I relapsed before I even got out onto East Boulevard.
I swear to you, I walked out of the house and called my fiancé, who was on a business trip in Maryland (and, frankly, not pleased that I was harassing him about my obsession with the Villalonga-Alexander house).
“Oh. My. God. You have to see this house. I wonder if there’s any way we could swing the mortgage payments?”
“Yeah,” he laughed, “us and 10 other couples.”
What’s that first step again?
Oh yeah.
I’m Morgan Fogarty. And I’m addicted to real estate.
~ Morgan Fogarty
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