Some houses slip away without too much fuss, like wan characters suffering from a long-term case of consumption in a Victorian novel – characters you assume will disappear with a languishing sigh by the middle of the book. Usually, these are buildings with faded or little street appeal, allowed to deteriorate and never given much love. Such was the case with a circa 1860s frame house near the railroad in Paris, Kentucky, that I photographed in the spring of 2023. Earlier this year, it was reduced to rubble, and now only a sad parcel with dying grass bears witness to its passing.
The facade of the William Coughlin House, Paris, Kentucky.
Although it was a contributing resource in the Downtown Paris Historic District, historic tax credits likely never occurred to the out-of-town owner, and I imagine maintenance of this dwelling was long deferred; evidence of water damage was obvious from my sidewalk vantage.
A Google streetview of the house and its small, T-plan neighbor (also demolished). I believe these houses were on the same parcel. Circa June 2023.
The two-story house was built right up the sidewalk, and in scale and stylistic touches, overshadowed its much-more modest neighbors. A central cross gable and arched second story windows enlivened the facade. The entry door retained a transom and sidelights, a holdover from the Greek Revival period. Interior brick chimneys were located at either gable end, and one of the fireplace surrounds (yes, I peered through the windows) had lovely green tile.
The afore-mentioned hearth and surround.
The vernacular dwelling was an unassuming blend of subtle Greek Revival and Italianate influences, with a central passage, single pile plan on the interior. A one-story frame ell, perhaps two to three small rooms, stretched out to the rear of the main mass of the house.
Section of the 1877 Atlas showing the parcel with its three buildings.
The house was shown on an 1877 map, with the notation “W. Coughlin” written above it, though the name might apply to any of the three buildings – or all of them – clustered together on the same parcel.* There was one house facing onto Pleasant Street, a middle house (presumably 109 E. 10th Street), and one additional smaller building. While the 1989 National Register nomination lists this dwelling as that of W. Coughlin, I haven’t carried out any deed research to confirm that attribution.
Side elevation and facade.
William Coughlin was born in Ireland in 1832, and immigrated to America in 1849. According to information found on Ancestry.com, he made his way to Kentucky shortly after the end of the Civil War. In 1870, he and his wife, Bridget, were living in Paris with their four children at the time: Mary, William, Michael, and John. William Coughlin owned property valued at $2,000 in the census. **
This image is (presumably and hopefully!) of the William Coughlin family. Posted on ancestry.com by BeckySoli in 2012. https://www.ancestry.com/mediaui-viewer/tree/175718576/person/242276544557/media/6552c41d-c728-46ae-8cfe-309bd9226302
By 1886, the house was listed as a boarding house, which was likely a good business decision, given the proximity of the railroad to the dwelling. It continued as a boarding house, noted as such on the 1890 Sanborn map.
Interior of the central hall. Image from a circa 2018 Zillow listing. https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/109-E-10th-St-Paris-KY-40361/233892871_zpid/?
The dwelling had been divided into a restaurant and lodging house by 1907 and continued in that same use in 1912. The St. James Hotel was by then located on the corner of East 10th and Pleasant Street, and both establishments likely catered to rail traffic. I don’t know who operated the lodging house during that time, but by 1920, the dwelling was owned by the Wachs family, and in addition to the family, there were five lodgers living in the house. Mr. Wachs, who had a shoe repair business in Paris, was still living in the house in 1940, though by this time he was a widower.
A family reunion and house party at the house in 1936.
I know next to nothing about this house after World War II, and I don’t know if that part of its story will ever be told. It’s only happenstance, after all, that I ended up photographing this section of East 10th Street after dinner at the nearby former (historic) railroad depot, in an attempt to walk off some calories.*** The absence of this house jarred me like a missing tooth as I went through Paris a few days ago, and I wanted to remember it, and its many unknown stories, in some fashion.
*1877 Atlas of Bourbon, Clark, Fayette, Jessamine and Woodford Counties, Kentucky. D. G. Beers and Company, Philadelphia, PA.
** It looks like $2,000.
***Trackside at the Depot is not only a fabulous place to eat, but is a wonderful example of adaptive reuse of an important historic building.
I could cry. I’m disappointed in Paris for letting that happen. It needed plenty of work inside but was part of what makes Paris special! I wish we had laws to protect historic houses and buildings.