Plum Books: The other Red House in Marshfield

Recently I came across a book called Red House by Sarah Messer which was about an old red house in Marshfield, Massachusetts that the author grew up in. This peaked my interest to say the least as I also grew up in Marshfield in an old red farm house that was owned by my grandparents. Ironically the author and I are about the same age but I believe we were a year apart in school so I didn't know her back then. It had still peaked my interest. I was able to procure the book thru my local library and started in on it.

My grandfather in the mid 50's

It wasn't just the nostalgia bug that bit me but it reminded me of what many of my cousins had talked about writing about the house in Marshfield as in retrospect it had grown in legend in many storied we heard from our elders. We had often, perhaps just in passing, thought we ought to write a book or at least record these stories in some way.

The house in the 50's judging by the car in the yard.

My grandparents had moved there from Foxboro in the mid 50's after growing out of the house they had there with 9 kids, my mother being the second oldest. Needless to say it was a house that rarely went without some type activity going with that many children running around. I remember my grandfather joking that he never knew half the kids running around the house at times. By the time we moved there in the 70's it was time for the grandchildren to take reign. Thanksgiving and Christmas we had many uncles,aunts and cousins visiting and staying over for the holiday. It was usually a fun time for most of us. It became the family central point.

A drive by I did several years back. Back to yellow it appears.

I think at first my parents only planned on staying there temporarily but when they divorced it became permanent. As a kid was great place with a large yard and field in back(about an acre or so) and large enough inside to not be bothersome to others and have some of your own space. The inside was an interesting mishmash of design and function. Some upstairs doors had notches cut out to account for the pitch in the roof. One small bathroom in back seem to be an after thought and many times at night you'd feel like someone would peek in on you. On the second floor their was a flat spot of about 6' x 8'was formed because it was shaped like a U as a bedroom could look over a few feet to one across from it with the upstairs bath being the bottom. It's make a great secluded deck if someone put a door to it.

Another with my grandfather. It was yellow then but had been painted red when I moved in.

A big part of the house were the spooky stories we were told. My grandmother told us of giggling children(usually done when kids were suppose to be in school) turning off her vacuum and running away. A friend of the family seeing a ghostly gowned woman and running downstairs naked. My mother claims to not only have seen the same gowned woman but also one of a man standing over her bed with an ax and sometimes he even sat on the bed. Another story was of a screaming woman running from upstairs and outside to the street. My cousins thought these were great stories but we had to sleep there when they went home.