The amount of work and the skill level needed to create a complex metal roof like this kept us humble. A piece of artwork.. all the way up here on the top of silo… where no one would ever see or appreciate it.
Our first goal in taking the silo down, is to remove the roof.
In order for it to come down, we must go up.
It’s a long way up there.
The view is spectacular.
The only tools needed was a crowbar, and a camera.
The first thing we did was to look the silo over thoroughly.
When we restore on an old building, or as in this case, when we take one down, we want to get to know the building first… to see how she how she was built, and to find out what condition she is in.
Here on this silo we spent a good bit of time inspecting the base of the silo. If we were to find a couple of bad courses on one side of this structure, it would be no different than taking a notch out of the base of tree… the whole thing could come crashing down at any moment.
And, riding one of these silos down to the ground, while working up on top, could ruin a person’s day.
We also spent some time pulling down all the vines that had grown up the structure… and there was plenty of them, as you can see in the photos. Vine growth can quickly lead to rot on wood structures.
We were pleased to find that these vines hadn’t created any damage. And, our base inspection concluded that everything was still solid and sound.
It was time to climb to the top and begin our work…
The silo was originally connected to a large dairy barn… both built about the same time, likely late 1920’s or somewhere in the 30’s.
The farmer would raise corn and then use a conveyor to fill the silo through the window opening in the roof. The corn would then be shoveled through one of five openings located on the barn side, to feed the milk cows throughout the year.
Corn went in one end of this structure… milk came out the other. Pretty cool huh? And there I thought milk came from the grocery store. 😉
This barn was ready to collapse at an moment. We did not salvage any material from it, and frankly, we were relieved that it did not fall while we were there salvaging this silo.
Here are a few photos taken the day we started our process of dismantling this silo.
She, and the barn she was connected to, were destined to be burned down. If we had not taken her down then, all that would be left of this structure today would be these photos.
The first thing I notice in looking at these photos is that she looks a bit shorter than the finished restored silo that we rebuilt… and that is because we added a stone base and a row of windows at the top.
I also see the remaining plaster that still adheres to the outside. The plaster remained intact on the inside but the outside has lost most of it’s finished surface. We contemplated building the silo back with this aged look, but in the end declined.
Even though the silo here looks shorter than the finished restored structure, she was still very intimidating to climb.
A while back I shared with everyone the re-construction of an eleven-sided silo, and the process of building an “undecagon” stone base for it to rest on.
Well, I just found a packet of old photos that I took of the silo as she originally stood, and of our salvage operation of it. I think you will find it of interest (if not, just sort of tune me out for a couple of days ;).
I apologize that this is out of order… I feel a bit like George Lucas in that now I am releasing the prequel… lol. I promise there is no Jarr Jarr Binks characters.
So, to start, here are three of photos of the reconstruction to remind you of the finished product.
I found an old barn door that fit just perfectly on this cabin.
It was a very old door, with a wooden lock, hand forged hinges, and two horizontal battens on the inside holding it together.
The quickest way to date a barn is to look at it’s doors.
If you see a “Z” pattern on the batten side of a door, she is a twentieth century barn. “Z” bracing did not exist in Virgina prior to the Civil War… at least not that I have ever seen.
This is sweet little guest house outback of a much larger foursquare farmhouse. Given the choice, personally, I’d live here.
And so would Thoreau.
Just about everyone knows that Thomas Jefferson built Monticello.
Well, everyone that lives in Virgina that is.
For everyone else, just look at the back of a nickle… that’s Monticello.
But what about the guys that actually built it? You know, the guys with the saws and the hammers? (The tour guides there never seem to mention the carpenters). Did they go on to build something after Monticello?
The answer to that question… Yes, yes they did.
Their next project was this private home in Western Albemarle.
I spent more than a year of my life restoring this massive home. It was quite an experience… but I must confess that by the time it ended I was aching to build a small cabin on some mountaintop.
This is a Virginia “foursquare” house.
This style of farmhouse was quite popular in the last couple decades of the 19th century.
Almost always white in color, they had four main rooms downstairs, and four matching ones upstairs, with each room offering a fireplace and ten foot ceilings. There was also a grand hallway in the center with a highly detailed large staircase.
These large homes marked the end of era. Within their walls one can still find some heavy beams but the timber frames of the previous generation have been abandoned. And, the materials were still of high quality but were clearly imported from further west. Virgin timber in Virginia had been exhausted.
I’ve restored a few of these refined ladies. It’s always been a treat.
The crewman seen in one of these photos went on to be a professor of philosophy at a major university… I guess this house gave him something to think about.
