A Matter of Perspective

Our stop in Ashville meant we had to schedule a day visit to the Biltmore Estate where we oohed and aahed at the sheer magnificence, splendor and grandeur of an extremely wealthy man’s house. This man was George Washington Vanderbilt II, grandson of Cornelius Vanderbilt, who was one of the richest men in the world during his time and who left a large inheritance to George Vanderbilt which largely funded the construction of his little summer house here. It is mind numbing to realize that this man used to own 125,000 acres of land around the area and finally downsized to around 8000 acres within which this 175,000 sq foot (around 16,300 sq m) house majestically sits. It took a mere 6 years (1889 – 1896) to build this mansion and to furnish it which is an amazing feat even for today and to this day, this is the largest privately owned home in the entire United States. What is incredibly impressive about the Biltmore mansion is hearing the very interesting anecdotes behind each and every little piece of furniture / fixture, marveling at the high tech advancements that were available for that time and being awed by the intricate work of brilliant craftsmanship that this house is replete with. It makes one feel small to be in the presence of such magnanimity.

It is an interesting process of getting to know a man through the house that he had built and being transported back in time. It is said that George Vanderbilt was a bachelor when he had the house built and possibly wanted to have the house of his dreams built for the woman of his dreams.

Enter our dear brother-in-law, Ken. He lives in place called Kiln in Mississippi which is very close to Pas Christian and Gulfport and lives on a 40 acre piece of land that is owned by his family. His house is a modest 2000 sq foot in size and is around 90% complete. What is absolutely impressive here is that this man has literally singlehandedly BUILT his own house. Starting with the architectural design, survey of the land, marking out the entire water and sewage system, digging the ground for the foundation, mixing and pouring all the concrete, hauling and cutting all the timber, tiling the roof, laying all the plumbing, all the electrical wiring (he took an electricians course on the internet), wood floor, kitchen and bathroom building, stucco on the outside, all the way to making his own cabinets for the kitchen and living room – all on his own, without any hired help! Every last nail that is in the house has been hammered in by him and above all, it is an extremely strong house because Ken doubled whatever is prescribed by builders’ code and the house stands testament to this fact after the eye of hurricane Katrina passed directly over his house and there was no damage to it at all. What is amazing is that he did all this while having a full time job. Ken is an artist and he understands materials such as wood, concrete, stone and most of all, he understands his innermost thoughts and this lets him draw out the plan in his head, make a small clay model of his vision and then make the life size house.

It is indeed an interesting process of getting to know a man through the house that he has built. What is truly touching about Ken’s mission is that this is an ultimate labor of love for him because Ken had started building the house in the loving memory of his late wife, Cheryl. I do not know if their married life together was replete with visibly deep passion but it is very obvious that this was an amazingly affectionate bond of love that they shared. They had found a common association of art between them where they created art together for many wonderful years and Ken continues to do so with each and every piece of detail that he has so laboriously and lovingly built into this house.

It is ultimately a matter of perspective indeed but either way, it does make me feel very small 🙂

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1 Response to A Matter of Perspective

  1. Ken says:

    Thanks for the kind words guys. You make it sound like I actually have direction with my life and not that I am wandering around aimlessly trying to find ” my lost shaker of salt”. Had a lot of fun while yawl were here and looking forward to your return.

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