PhOtO/AllisOn YOung
Tim Gilbert near 970 and 990 Joaquin Miller Drive, two of the original 1920s homes in Reno’s Old Southwest.
Flipping Out by Georgia Fisher
22 | RN&R |
NOVEMBER 27, 2013
I
wore a dress the day I met Nancy Gilbert. I made my fiancé put on something nice, too, because Nancy and her husband, Tim, would be screening us as potential tenants. We were on a plane when we learned we’d made the cut, and wound up gasping and hugging each other like newly pregnant people, or ones who’d just won a car and maybe a lifetime supply of Coors Light. Our prize was the mere permission to rent a smallish, 1926 Chicago bungalow in Old Southwest Reno. And we couldn’t shut up about it, from its stained-glass windows and built-in shelves to the sense of welcome that wrapped all around us when we walked through the front door.
Nancy, for her part, wasn’t dressed up when she emerged that first day to show us around. She was in painting clothes with a fine layer of dust, and joked that Tim—a fifth-generation Nevadan who works in gaming software—was her “cleaner half.” A construction lawyer by day, our landlady spends her free time restoring vintage, often neglected homes “to the period,” researching them at length and adding authentic touches that she’s traveled abroad to find, when necessary. Tim handles tasks such as bookkeeping, and ensures infrastructural elements (think wiring, plumbing, and all manner of unsexy, expensive, crucial things) are modern and up to par. And as ever, they credit contractors with all the work.
A local couple restores historical Reno, one cottage at a time
The 50-something couple and their team have renovated 10 Old Southwest houses so far, and that’s a tally Tim and Nancy are apt to count aloud, pursing their lips and reminding each other of the various addresses. The list includes a 1930s English Cotswold cottage with a Cathedral window and English-style garden on Joaquin Miller Drive; the Spanish colonial-revival number right next door to it; and a mid-century abode on Bret Harte that they recently sold after just a month on the market, with an asking price of more than $400,000, according to real estate websites. Faithful restoration isn’t cheap, and it’s hardly simple. So why pull out all the stops to make a virtual time capsule?
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Nancy says without hesitation. “Prior to World War II,” Tim adds, “Reno was a very small city, and [the Old Southwest] area is one of the last intact pre-war neighborhoods. There are just a few golden blocks, so to speak, that have these bungalows. … Homeowners there could command the top architects, and no expense was spared.” Tim has warm memories of visiting his great aunt. Frances Humphrey was a longtime Reno High School teacher, and “going to her house was always an experience; the light switches were pushbutton, and all the woodwork was pristine.“ In short, these are anti-McMansions.
