I was eleven when Mama and Daddy built their new house at 1869 Queens Road West, Charlotte 7, NC, on a lot that was half an acre; 4,000 square feet, 5 bedrooms, 3-1/2 baths in the main house (including the toilet and sink under the basement stairs for use by black maids, yard people, etc.), and a 500 SF studio over the two-car garage--the "rec room" or "wreck room" as Daddy referred to it. The property cost $40,000 in 1951, when realtors sold houses at a list price/SF of $10/SF--the median list price/SF today is $152/SF). Our original house was torn down in the 1990s, all except for the garage and rec room, and a new house was built; it recently sold for $2,140,000.
The main house was redwood and brick; it comprised a half basement, ground floor, second floor, and full attic. In the entry hall on the ground floor was a wall toggle switch that turned the attic fan on and off. In the spring, after turning off the furnace, Mama would open several strategic windows and doors (namely the kitchen door on the back of the house away from the afternoon sun, and with a screen door) and turn on the attic fan. Thus until nightfall the house was dark, with a pleasant breeze running throughout. We didn't turn on the air conditioning until late June, and turned it off in mid-September.
Now it's early May in the middle of North Carolina (near Chapel Hill), where my husband and I live; we share 1,700 square feet on the main floor, and our A/C quit a week ago. So every day I close the blinds in the morning and turn on our 4 ceiling fans...the resulting dusk at noon reminds me so much of growing up, adapting as Southerners have done for several hundred years to the heat of noonday. In the past we adapted with high ceilings (10-12') and heavy drapes and (once we had electricity) fans. Now we're dependent on A/C, and have little ability to adapt otherwise.
