The 19th Century Home – Sunday, March 18, 1984
Something has changed during the past century, something more than technology and lifestyles, something more than our mode of transportation and our living habits, something we didn’t see, and perhaps didn’t want.
It is hinted at in our houses, apartments and condominiums—of which the majority are now empty for almost the entire day; it is suggested by the absence of leisurely family meals, which were once an everyday event; it is implied by our mobility, our constant moving from house to house; and it is intimated by an entire population of runaways, children fleeing intolerable conditions of abuse or neglect.
This something, this change, is a profound shift in our concept of home. It is a change so dramatic and far-reaching as to threaten the very foundations of our social and political way of life.
The typical home of the 19th century was far different than most of the houses of today. It even appeared more secure and friendly: squarish of red or painted brick, heavily trimmed with wood, with porches at front and back, and picket fences between the lawns and the brick sidewalks which led to a sturdy protecting door.
There were aromas, too. In the morning there was hot oatmeal and breakfast biscuits. At noon, when children of the 19th century ran home to eat, there were the smells of bread baking and homemade soup; at evening, lasting smells of gravy and turnips, of meat and pudding.
And noises have changed too. Then there were sounds of the piano from the parlor and the children from the kitchen, of mother placing the hand-dried dishes back In the china closet, and the final nighttime sound, heard from beneath the covers in the darkness, of father bolting the doors, to hold us safe from the world, protected by the encircling structure of home.
It was almost a living organism, the home of the 19th century. It had a quality which is largely lost today, a rhythm, a quiet routine, almost a dullness. But it was this syncopation of life in an ordered environment which bequeathed to its children confidence In self, trust in society, and faith in a friendly universe.
Hopefully, the home of the 19th century is not extinct. Perhaps the kitchen smells and picket fences are gone forever. But these were only evidence of higher, more lasting laws—of strong family ties and belonging, of order, and parental contact—and with these, we can still make a house into a home.
_____________________________________
March 18, 1984
Broadcast Number 2,848