Building Permit was issued to ER Matthews
• Owned lot’s 18, 19 and 2o (as shown on Calgary’s Collector’s Roll)
• Dr. William Ernest Spankie owned Lots 16 and 17 (as shown on Calgary’s Collector’s Roll)
• William Ernest Spankie, 1884-1974 was born in Kingston, Ontario and in 1906 received his medical degree from Queen’s University. He came to Calgary, Alberta in 1908 and practiced as a physician until retiring in 1968. Spankie was very active in the Masonic Lodge, the Elks Lodge and the Conservative Party. He and his wife, Maude Amelia Harvey. ? – 1966, had one daughter Evelyn M. (Bohannon), 1913-2007 (from Glenbow Archives)
Estimated Cost: $2,000.00
At this time the house was in the area was called Regal Terrace, but is now within the Crescent Heights area
The house was built and the value of the buildings was $600.00
The style of the house is Edwardian Gable Front Home\it is believed that the first 10 years or so this was a boarding house or a rental house as the Henderson Directories show people only stayed for a year of two and then moved on.
Longest Resident (1956-1978):
• Mr. Robert C. Hartle and Mrs. Winnifred Hartle and their only daughter Gail
• Mrs. Winnifred Harle’s parents Louie and Bertie greenwood spent their honeymoon at the first Calgary Stampede in 1912
• Their daughter Gail now resides on Cortes Island, BC
In the spring of 2011 when the house was sold to the current owners an inspiring article was published in Swerve Magazine
Crescent Heights was incorporated as a village on May 1, 1908 and then annexed as a part of the City of Calgary in 1911 and established as a neighborhood in 1914. The developers were selling land prior to it being part of Calgary, stating that it will be part of Calgary very soon, so residents were without power or water for a while until the bridge was built.
The Centre Street bridge was built in 1916 after the MacArthur bridge was destroyed by floor in 1915.
The house was painted in 2002 to it’s now beautiful orang color but prior to that it was white with green shutters. The first floor windows are still original and a majority of the home is still in its original condition bearing some modern convenience upgrades.
Photograph of Dr. Spankie and family and the Fire Insurance plan from August 1954
Photograph (1912) view of downtown Calgary and the original Centre Street Bridge
The Right Place at the Wrong Time
May 27, 2011 by mjessiman
I found the house of my dreams two days ago. It is the right size, in a good neighbourhood, and emanates well-being from the inside out. And yet, as often happens, I found what I was looking for at the worst possible time. It was an unexpected discovery that jolted me awake to possibility. I knew I would be crossing an emotional threshold, dividing myself in to two: who I was before and who I would be after. The moment I turned the handle something in me would change .
I opened the door to creaky floors that wanted my stocking feet, to small and comfortable rooms I could already hear my little ones playing in, to French doors that would contain our love and keep us safe. I know where I would place a sweet little Christmas tree... I could see it there by the front windows. I greeted the wall where my books were meant to live. I stood in the kitchen and knew I could cook there, nourishing my family and friends. It was a space in which I could finally make new memories as a single mother. Whenever I had thought about moving out of the marital home, I just couldn't bring myself to "be ready." I've been in limbo for three years .
But this house was suffused with light. Its energy told the story of people who lived mindfully. It whispered to me a promise that the next chapter could be mine, that I could be as happy as they were. On the day I found it, I was just desperate enough for new beginnings to entertain something as terrifying as finally leaving the past behind .
The most coveted thing on my wish list was there, as if it had been built for me. There it was, in the back of a quirkily artful backyard - a working studio with a wood-burning stove, proper lighting and lots of space. Another door to open, this time to my own creative space, a room of my own where I could write and paint. I stood dumbfounded with possibility. On my way out, my skin and soul on fire, I spied a little brass elf hanging on a nail by the door, another talisman, another confirmation .
This place was one of a kind. It was me, it was meant for me. I nearly put an offer on it then and there, with no idea how I would finance it during a separation while our finances were still intertwined. The feeling that I belonged there was palpable that hair-raising, heart-singing feeling in your gut, the kind of knowing that defies logic and doesn't care about dollars .
Talk about being conflicted. Committing to my dream home would mean not going to Italy, a trip I had been planning and blogging about for a year, testing a theory of small choices, serendipity, and timeliness (click here to go to my blog). The irony couldn't be missed. There is a wrong time for everything, and I knew this when I stood at the front door and hesitated. There is also a right time for everything and I knew this too when I decided to open the door to an alternative vision of the future .
As happens often to me at times when I really need advice, I had a conversation with my dead Irish father .
Dad, this makes no sense .
You're right love, it makes no sense
I want this house, it's me, you know? I haven't been able to start over till now .
It's too soon, isn't it. Is it ?
Honey, I'm proud that you went to the door and walked inside, it's not about the house, love
There are no small choices, and I have chosen not to make this dream house mine, grateful for the glimpse of who I will be on the other side .
Originally published in Swerve magazine May. 27.11
Photograph of City of Calgary Collector’s Roll from 1914