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Showing posts with label Hope Farm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope Farm. Show all posts

Sunday, March 15, 2026

Restoring Hope Farm 2026


Hope Farm, the house my great aunt Katherine and her husband Balfour Miller bought and restored in 1926 was built around 1740 with later additions and reorienting the house to another direction.  I grew up going over there as a child and giving tours to visitors -- sometimes as many as a thousand a day.  It was due to Aunt Katherine (Auntee as we called her) and her friends that cultural tourism got its start in the South in 1932 when the people who owned the antebellum houses here decided to open them up for visitors.

Katherine died in 1983 and Balfour shortly thereafter, when it was sold to Ethel Banta, a Natchez native who wanted to move back home after her husband died.  It's been almost two....three? years since it burned. Unfortunately, Ethel was lost in the fire.  It was a tragedy all the way around.  Everyone thought the house was a total loss, but historic preservationists Kevin and Laine Berry happened to be in town that day and decided to take it on.  Like any major project its progress has been in fits and starts, but steady, and she's starting to look like her old self again.  They've got drywall installed, windows installed and finished, and are starting on the final stages in the main house while the ell in back still has a ways to go.

Thank you, Kevin and Laine, for taking on this massive undertaking and restoring hope that was almost lost when the house burned.  You have been and are a positive addition to our little town and are bringing new ideas and ways of thinking about how to tell the stories of the past.

This Saturday was the third Restoring Hope celebration, an open-air dinner held under the boughs of a huge live oak tree with the scent of azaleas and sweet olive permeating the air.  I know that next year's dinner will be held inside, and I, for one, can hardly wait.  Laine has done extensive research on Hope Farm and talked about things I'd known nothing about until this weekend.  Laine, if you'd like to write a guest column about the history of Hope Farm, here's my invitation.

Laine Berry and me at Hope Farm

The front porch has been painted to look like marble stones by the talented Matthew McGinley.  The doors are faux bois, painted by the equally talented Austin Billhime.


The view from the back porch














Wednesday, October 11, 2023

Later, Gator!

Since the antebellum home, Hope Farm, burned, a lot has happened. The house was previously owned by my great aunt Katherine Miller and my great uncle Balfour, who bought it in the 1920s and restored it.  It was built in 1775 for the Spanish governor, Carlos de Grand Pre.  

A dear, sweet friend, Ethel Banta, bought the house after Balfour and Katherine had died, and kept it in its original condition, as requested in Balfour's will.  She opened the house to tourists during Spring and Fall pilgrimage, and was a delightful raconteur. Ethel died in the fire, so it was doubly heartbreaking.  

A couple  from Arkansas has bought what’s left of it and are going to bring it back to life.  I’ve been going over and working in the yard for them.  It doesn’t look like it’s been tended in at least a couple of years, so it’s daunting.  

I was there a few days ago, doing some yardwork. Laine and Kevin Berry, the new owners, stopped by for a little while to check on some things, then they left. I was happily pulling out poison ivy and laurel from one of the beds in back.

Turns out while I was working, there was a traffic jam on Homochitto Street because an alligator had made its way to the entrance of Hope Farm and the police were trying to catch it with one of those long poles with a loop on the end like they use to catch dogs.

I was blissfully unaware that anything was afoot. Fortunately, by the time I left, they'd caught it and traffic was able to resume. It's just so weird feeling that all this hullabaloo went on and I never heard a sound.

It was all clear when I finally decided I was so tired I had to stop. Went home and took a shower with Palmolive dish soap in case I'd inadvertently touched some of the poison ivy. In fact, I'm sure I did come in contact several times on my wrist. It's the oils on the leaves that cause the rash. But Palmolive is made for getting rid of oil and grease, so into the shower I go. No rash today. I've discovered the secret to avoiding poison ivy. Now I'll have to work on how to keep alligators out of the driveway. LOL!