This Old House

The Life and Times of Casa Flamingo

by Nelle Pettit Smith

Casa Flamingo 1998

How We Got Here

Since 1925, she sat on Flamingo Drive, in Flamingo Park, near downtown West Palm Beach.
What else could we dub this Big Pink Bird other than Casa Flamingo? This part of Florida was
nothing until the American Industrialist Henry Flagler came to town in the late 1800's and began
developing Palm Beach. From there, many communities like ours sprang up just across the
bridge in the 1920’s.

Once central air-conditioning became affordable, the suburbs of West Palm went crazy with
development and most people left the old neighborhoods, with their Dade Pine hardwood floors,
fireplaces, and Spanish architecture for the latest-greatest updated homes – sturdy cinderblocks
with a modern feel, wall-to-wall carpeting, and central air. After the Palm Beach Mall sprang up
northwest of downtown, the old center of commerce began to struggle for business. In the
1960's, beautiful old neighborhoods like ours began to fall into disrepair. By the 1970's and 80’s,
urban blight set in like a plague.
How we landed Casa Flamingo began as an almost farcical dream. When we first married in
1982, Jeff and I used to drive around this downtrodden neighborhood and drool over the
possibilities. I lamented, "If I had a body guard, a few Doberman Pinschers, and an AK 47, I
would move into Flamingo Park and restore one of these interesting old places." Jeff would
always laugh and nod in agreement.

Be careful what you wish for...

For our honeymoon, I gave Jeff perhaps one of the least-romantic presents ever! A Shop-Smith
power saw. It resembled a small horse. We had no garage and it lived under the stairs in our
living room, covered with a big sheet. At least we didn't have to feed it. As a child, Jeff watched
his father build their entire house, helping out where he could. He remembered that time with
fondness and wanted to try his hand at wood-working. We watched every HGTV show that had
anything to do with furniture making and home renovation. Jeff bought dozens of books to teach
himself. Turns out, he was a quick study.

On weekends, weather permitting, Jeff would drag the Shop-Smith out to the driveway and make
furniture for fun. He started with simple tables and soon progressed to armoires and many other
kinds of furniture. Eventually, we moved, and he finally had a garage to work in! As Jeff became
more skilled, he began to enjoy his hobby so much that he got licensed as a General Contractor,
starting his own company in building, renovations, and cabinetmaking.

From 1982 until 1998, any time we ventured downtown, we drove through Flamingo Park on the
way back to the suburbs of Wellington, dreaming of what could be. In the late 80's and 90's a
large area of urban blight in downtown West Palm Beach was demolished. By 2000 an
innovative development called City Place with retail stores, townhouses, apartments, restaurants,
and all sorts of entertainment options opened. Eventually, a convention center and hotel were
added. All of this is only a few blocks from Flamingo Park. At the same time, Clematis Street in
downtown was also making a comeback with good restaurants, bars, and shops. People from the
suburbs began drifting back to the now-trendy downtown.

When the Dream Became a Possibility

During this time of demolition and reconstruction, some brave pioneers did what Jeff and I only
dreamed. They moved into Flamingo Park and reclaimed the classic old houses from gangs,
crackheads, and the down and out. The neighborhood started a slow comeback. In 1998, two
years before City Place opened, Flamingo Park was still rough. But Jeff smelled potential,
thinking that our dream of owning a property downtown might be possible. He began
researching. Specifically, he began researching this house and what would be involved in
purchasing, jumping through the hoops of the Historic Preservation Board, and renovating it. I
had never seen him so focused on anything. He was taking hours each week planning, running
numbers, making phone calls. It finally dawned on me that this was no hobby. He was serious.

One Sunday, I said to him, "Since you seem to be quite invested in this project, don't you think it
is time that I saw the house?"
"Oh, no!" He answered, pale-faced. "It would scare you to death!"

At that point, I said, "Then all the more reason to get in the car and go check this thing out…"

When we arrived, a 90-pound Rottweiler roared up to the chain-link fence to greet us. Her only
toy was a bowling ball that she somehow picked up in her teeth! Frighteningly, her vertical leap
topped the 3-foot barrier between us... Thankfully, she was well-fed and only wanted our
attention. I suppose if all I had to play with was a bowling ball, I might want some attention, too.
After my heartrate returned to normal, I was able to focus on the perfectly pink two-story
Spanish Mission-style house with a yard full of dirt. And, as you see from the picture above,
little-to-nothing of interest remained of the home’s former glory.

Surprisingly, the house did not scare me. Behind Casa Flamingo’s sad and neglected façade, I
could see the potential and felt we could redeem her. Jeff continued to research, with my
blessing. A few days later, we got our first peek at the inside. It was appalling. A hideous blue
and brown shag carpet, full of fleas, constituted the most aesthetically pleasing part of the
interior. Upstairs, on a black wall, a naked mermaid was painted. (How did I not take a picture of
that?) The remainder of the walls were the craziest fluorescent green I had ever seen. Still, the
place had good bones. And, at that point, we were not considering living there. It was only to be
an investment rental property.

Below is the living room when we bought the house in 1998 and the way it looks today. More
before and after pictures, with a description of the layout, are at the end of this article.

Jeff took so much time researching that I told him we would lose the house if he didn't make an
offer soon. He scoffed, saying the place was such a wreck that no one else would want it. And
so, he waited.

Until the house sold out from underneath us...

Then, it was back to the drawing board, as we began looking at other houses in Flamingo Park to
buy. One day, we happened upon the realtor that held the listing on Casa Flamingo. He asked us
if we were still interested in buying it as he expected the sale to fall through in two days. It did.
This time Jeff wasted no time in making an offer. And the Big Pink Flamingo full of fleas was all
ours!

While it looked like a single-family home, the house was built as a duplex with two identical
units upstairs and downstairs. We renovated both apartments and rented them out. In the back
was a large building with a two-car garage and three apartments. As we were in the process of
renovating those, the City of West Palm Beach tore down the back building.

When the Dream Became the Nightmare and then Our Home

It was unjust. We could have fought them in court, and likely won, if we’d had enough money to
burn. But the expense was too much for us. In the end, the powers-that-be tore the building down
and poured salt on the wound, charging us $10,000 for the demolition. This, after we already put
a large chunk of money into the architect, permits, and renovations that we had already begun.
Beyond disheartened, we initially believed we would have to sell the property. We assumed we
needed all five units to make a profit.

As I said, when we bought Casa Flamingo, we did not intend to live in it. Yet, every time we
went downtown for dinner and passed by the house on our way to the burbs, we sighed at the
prospect of the thirty-minute drive home. Half in jest, I always said, “Just think, if we lived here,
we’d be home!” That became a running joke. At some point down the line, after one too many
trips from Wellington to downtown, we began to dream about turning Casa Flamingo into a
single-family home and moving. My mother told me to stop visualizing it or it would happen.

At some point after The City of West Palm Beach bulldozed our back building, interest rates
began coming down dramatically. I had no idea how much a few percentage points could lower a
mortgage payment. We were about to put Casa Flamingo on the market when one day a thought
occurred to me to go dig out the little amortization book we kept (for who knows what reason) to
see what the mortgage payment would be to move downtown. And, to our surprise, we could
manage it, just barely. Downtown was doing very well. I knew that in time, a house in Flamingo
Park would be a better investment than our place in the suburbs. If the back building had not
been torn down, it is doubtful we would have considered the move. Isn’t it interesting, how God
works all things together for good...

The housing boom of the mid 2000’s was just beginning in Florida. Values of homes in the
Burbs of Welly World (as I called Wellington) were hitting an all-time high. We sold our house
by word of mouth for more than anyone in our neighborhood believed possible. A real estate
agent walked in, saw the house for one minute, and said, “I’ll take it!” She never dickered on the
price, signaling to me that we didn't ask enough!

As our moving date in May 2004 approached, Jeff went inside the downstairs unit of Casa
Flamingo and noticed the kitchen showed a great deal of wear and tear from six years of tenant
occupancy. During that time, Jeff’s cabinet making skills had improved dramatically from the
cabinets he made for the original renovation. That night, Jeff came home and informed me that I
would not be happy with the kitchen, suggesting that he rip it out and start over. Well, seriously,
what girl says no to a brand-spanking-new kitchen? So, he stripped it to the studs and we moved
in the house sans kitchen and sans shower, as the tiling wasn’t yet completed. The first week we
lived there was an adventure. We had to drive 30 minutes to my mother’s house in Wellington to
take a shower. That, or we helped each other wash our hair in the bathroom sink.

The kitchen ended up taking much longer to finish. But we got by with pieces of plywood atop
sawhorse bases for the toaster oven, microwave, and prep space. The refrigerator remained in the
sitting room for the first week until we could fit it into the kitchen. We used the bathroom sink to
wash dishes. But, as if I needed one, no kitchen gave us an excuse to eat out more. After the
move, the first time we went downtown to dinner and then pulled into the driveway of Casa
Flamingo, we both laughed knowing what would be coming out of my mouth next. “Just
think…if we lived here, we’d be home!” It was no longer a dream! We were home.

At the time of the move, our upstairs tenants were due to renew their lease and asked us if they
could stay. While I was disappointed that we couldn’t start renovating the entire house, Jeff
thought it was a good idea to have the extra income. The tenants signed on for another year.
However, that left us crammed into 1212 square feet, with one bedroom and one bathroom. The
other bedroom housed the washer and dryer along with stacks of boxes we had no room for,
meaning any visitors were out of the question. My office was crammed into the front porch.

As the summer of 2004 rolled around, two hurricanes hit us back to back, Frances and Jean.
Frances, who left us without power for 13 days, was quite harrowing as she swirled over Florida
all night long. Listening to the wind howl, as pine trees bent nearly to the ground, terrified me.
We were just getting back to normal when Hurricane Jean showed up.

It so happened that a dear friend of mine had a women's gathering planned at Melhana Plantation
in Thomasville, GA. My husband, who was in no mood to put up with me cringing every time
the wind blew, sent me (and my Hurricane PTSD-self) packing.

"There is nothing you can do here but sit and worry. Go enjoy the retreat with your friends." Jeff
all but threw me out the door.

As I fled, Hurricane Jean's outer bands stretched a good bit north of me. Let's just say that I
saved a lot of gas as she blew me up Interstate 95 on my way to Georgia. Jean hit West Palm
Beach with a wallop. Jeff had to put a huge piece of wood across the front door and screw it in to
keep it from blowing open. Had we not been renovating, he would not have had access to the
drill and supplies needed to keep the door shut. After that, he fabricated a new front door from
old pecky cypress and made sure that it opened out.

Hurricane Jean tracked me all the way to the retreat, lashing us with strong winds, a few power-
surge scares, and lots of rain. But after she passed, the weather was glorious. And so was the
gathering. I met so many wonderful women there that I became a bit sad that I couldn't invite any
of them to stay with us in West Palm. The afternoon after the storm passed, during free time, I
walked the beautiful grounds and talked to God. Explicitly, I asked Jesus when we would have
the whole house to ourselves, so friends could stay there. Immediately, one word popped into my
head. November! That was it. It wasn't The Still Small Voice that I normally heard. This was
commanding.

As it was the summer of 2004, and we had agreed to let our tenants stay until May of 2005, I just
assumed that November of 2005 would be the appointed time. That did not seem a bit
unreasonable to me. In fact, I was quite happy about it. That would give us from May, when the
tenants moved out, to November to work on the renovations.

The next day, driving home from the retreat, I called Jeff. He didn’t sound like himself.

I knew something was up. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"Uuummm. Oooohhh. Nothing... We just had a bit more damage than I realized from the
hurricane..." Jeff’s voice faltered. He doesn't like delivering bad news, especially on the phone.

"And..." I knew that was not the thing that was bothering him.

"And, the tenants upstairs changed their minds about staying, and told me they were moving out
October 31st." He sounded stressed.

“OOOOOOH!!!” I squealed with delight! "Jesus told me that the whole house would be ours in
November! I thought He meant a year from November!"

Jeff sighed, "Well, I wish He had told me! I stayed up all night worrying about it!"

On the afternoon of October 31, 2004, our tenants left with the last of their belongings and we
moved our master bedroom upstairs. It was a bit inconvenient that night as we had no way to
access the downstairs internally. Putting our two big dogs on leashes, we coaxed them down the
external staircase. The open metal treads terrified them. Once down, we had to unlock the front
door and go through the house to get to the backyard, so the dogs could finally do their business.

The next day, November 1, we knocked through the wall of the downstairs bedroom, created a
landing, and connected to the internal staircase to the upper unit. So much easier for us, and far
less fearsome for the dogs. The upstairs living room, complete with a working fireplace, became
our master bedroom. And, for the first time since we moved in May, we finally had a fully
working kitchen. Eventually the upstairs kitchen became our master bath. But what made me the
happiest was that we now had a guestroom and extra bathroom for company. We happily hosted
several guests that November and many more followed in subsequent years. While the house was
livable, it took until 2009 to complete the majority of the renovations. We moved out for nine
months during that time, as Jeff took most of the house down to the studs and rebuilt it. It took
two more years to finish off the last detail. Jeff crafted every stick of cabinetry, and was hands
on, with one or two helpers, in all the construction. This, while working other jobs.

Once we moved in, Jeff and I thought we would die here. Thus, the old Real Estate adage of
"Location! Location! Location!" didn't apply to us. We didn’t care about resale value. The
location then was not perfect and is not perfect now. We are four lots away from the railroad
tracks (although the trains don’t blow their whistle anymore), we have an empty lot next door,
and eventually, someone started feeding feral cats there. At one point there were 24. Only a few
of them can be seen during the day, if anyone is really looking. But come at feeding time and it is
a whole different scene.

While the location didn’t bother us as an investment property, part of our decision to move there
was due to the fact that the surroundings perked up significantly after we purchased the house.
Someone bought the wreck of a house next door and did a nice renovation. Someone bought a
worse wreck across the street, tore it down, and built a beautiful home in its place. Down the
street a used car lot was demolished, and an upscale development of 3-story townhouses was
constructed. Across the street and down one lot, an unattractive property was recently sold and
will be turned into a posh gym with indoor and outdoor tennis courts. The same developer built a
state-of-the-art, private elementary school at the end of our block. A slew of trendy restaurants
are a block or two from our door. We are a five-minute walk to the Intracoastal Waterway or The
Norton Art Gallery, a few-minute bike ride to City Place and Clematis Street, and a couple of
minutes drive to the ocean in Palm Beach. Location-wise, things are getting better all the time.
These are just a few of the redevelopment attractions blocks away from us.

In December of 2011, we put our home on the Flamingo Park Christmas Home Tour. Over 800
people wandered through our house in four hours. I can't tell you the number of times we heard
that ours was the favorite of the 12 homes on the tour. Because of that, we naively believed that
selling would be a breeze.

The Wrap Up

Several years ago, for various reasons, the idea of a move to France began percolating. We got
serious about it last year. When Casa Flamingo went on the market in May of 2017, we thought
it would sell in a week. Fast forward to September 2018 and it isn't sold. We finally took the
house off the market in July, to let the listing refresh and do some minor maintenance.

When the house was on the market, everyone that saw it said they loved it. Many times, our
realtor expected an offer. Not one person complained about the price. None of the other realtors
who showed the house said the price was an issue for their clients. In terms of comps, we are a
very good deal.

I began to realize that this may have been my time, but it wasn’t God’s. For years, after my
mother retired, she remained in Kansas City. This, in spite of my incessant begging that she
move to Florida to be close to me. One day she said, “Every time in my life that I moved, God
just picked me up and planted me. And, I don’t want to put my house on the market. I want
someone to knock on the door and ask to buy it.”

As far as God moving her, I could relate. He also did that with me. The second part about
someone knocking on her door and asking to buy her house, seemed a bit out there to me. The
very next time I was in Kansas City visiting her, a man knocked on the door. I answered it. He
said, “I would love to buy this house. For cash. Would you consider it?” I nearly fainted.
I can still see my mother sitting in the wing chair next to the fireplace. With a shell-shocked look
on her face, she simply said, “It’s happening…” I get goosebumps every time I relate the story.
One month later God picked my mother up and planted her in a new house near me in Florida.
The whole thing was a miracle from start to finish.

At first, when Casa Flamingo didn’t sell, I was a bit frustrated, impatient, and afraid. How could
this be happening? Finally, I began to see the hand of God raised, telling people not to buy, for
His reasons that I may never understand. Of course, being one that needs answers, I tell myself
that the house in France isn't on the market yet. God is still weaving that plan into existence.

Last month, our realtor discovered that while he removed our listing from all other websites, he
neglected to take the listing off of his own company's website. A woman attorney happened to
see it there and asked to see the house. She came in late August. Not only did she love the house,
she loved location, she was fine with trains, and the pièce de résistance - she fed feral cats! It was
like winning the Trifecta! She made an appointment to return with her husband a few days later.

No one could miss the hand of God in this scenario. Yet, I also had no feeling about whether she
would buy the house. It seemed too good to be true. Several of my regular devotional readings at
that time, pointed to no. And, there were lots of words to trust God in the midst of denial,
uncertainty, and delay. So, while the showing looked good on every front, I just could not get
excited about it. I kept asking Jeff if he had any feelings, and he was the same. When the lady
brought her husband to see the house, he said no.

The reason I was not crushed by this, while a bit disappointed, is because God prepared me. It
was like He was telling me, "I'm in this. Look who I brought to see this house. Trust me. Wait.
As I brought her, I can bring another."

It was almost like my mother’s house, when a buyer appeared unexpectedly, and our house
wasn’t on the market (technically). The things others objected to, this woman loved. Many of our
potential buyers have wanted to buy the lot next door. It is not for sale. She did not want the
extra lot. A few of the people that loved the house had minor objections to the railroad being
near. She didn’t. But, of all the really crazy things, the woman came to see the house at cat
feeding time, and she was not only not bothered by feral cats, she actually feeds feral cats
herself!

As the king’s heart is in the hand of the Lord, all God had to do was plant a new heart in the
husband, if only to please his wife. But the answer was no. To me, the Feral Cat Lady and her
naysaying husband did not say no. God said no. Not them. Not anyone. Not yet.

And so, the saga of This Old House continues. We wait and pray for it to sell so that our dream
of opening a retreat center in France will materialize soon. The origins of Le Refuge also go back
to the 1980's. But that is a story for another day!

(See below for some before and after pictures of Casa Flamingo and a description of the house.)
Casa Flamingo Before and After and Miscellaneous

Outside in 1998 and 2018

Kitchen Before and After

Downstairs Bathroom Before and After

 Sitting Room Before and After

My Office Before and After

The Bistro (former porch) and Downstairs Bedroom Turned to Jeff’s Office
 Former Living Room Upstairs as Master Bedroom

Former Upstairs Kitchen Converted to Master Bath with Large Tub and Shower

Former Dining Room Upstairs Converted to Master Closet and The 2nd Guest Bathroom
 Upstairs Guest Bedroom and Another Angle on Living Room/Sitting Room

Casa Flamingo began as a two-story duplex, with each unit containing two bedrooms, one-
bathroom, a kitchen, dining room, and screened porch. There was no heating apart from the
fireplaces in the living rooms. Window air conditioners were used for cooling. The upstairs
apartment could be accessed by a fire escape that opened into the kitchen, or an internal staircase
accessed from the driveway that opened into the hallway next to the living room and kitchen.
After renovations, we have three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a dining room, kitchen, sitting
room, formal office, and laundry/exercise room. With the exception of the tiled baths, the
flooring in the house is wood, including some original Dade County Pine.

On the ground floor we have one bedroom (now my office) with access to the back yard via
French Doors. A full bath, just outside the room, could be connected as an en suite. What used to
be the front screened porch of the house, is now an intimate dining room that we call The Bistro
– it seats eight. The living room with working fireplace, extends to a sitting room outside the
kitchen. The sitting room could be used as a dining room if more space is required. Next to the
back bedroom is a custom-paneled library/office with a large walk-in closet and a bonus closet.
This room also has access to the back yard via French Door to the patio.

A wide staircase with a good rise and handrails on both sides, leads to the upstairs. To the rear is
a guest room, full bath, a laundry room/exercise room, two more closets and one large walk-in
closet. To the front of the house is one of the largest master suites in Flamingo Park. It has a
fireplace in the bedroom, a sitting room, an extra-large walk-in closet with custom-fitted
cabinetry, plenty of shelves and hanging space, separate sections for shoes. Above a granite-
topped chest of drawers, are recessed ceiling lights, and a chandelier. The master bath has marble
floors, recessed lights, lots of storage in the custom-made vanities with beautiful granite tops as
well as large medicine cabinets behind the mirrors. The fully-tiled, marble shower has a built-in
seat, rain-head shower and an extra hose attachment, two tall shelves for shampoos and soap, an
overhead light, and custom pebbled floor. A deep soaker tub with chandelier above, is
surrounded by a large mirror and custom woodworking. The toilet is in a private room.

Almost every room in the house has recessed lighting on dimmers. Separate central heat and air
conditioning units were installed for each floor. The back yard has a tiled patio, room for a pool,
and also has a big shed for storage. There is full-yard sprinkler system that runs on well water.