In 1989, when Heather Baley and her then-husband, Bill Lehre, pulled up in front of their prospective new home at 658 Vanderbilt Street, the first thing they did was double over with laughter.
Sitting before them, nestled between multi-story homes, was a one-story, 17-foot-wide bungalow built in the 1800s.
“When the broker showed it to us, we
got out of the car, sat down across the street and started laughing,” said Baley. “We laughed and laughed.”
Until then, Heather and Bill had been living in Brooklyn Heights. But with a new baby, their little apartment suddenly felt like it was bursting at the seams.
“We had a loft with one room and a 1-year-old. We had him in a porto-crib,” said Heather, who works as a paralegal. “The goal was to find a home with two bedrooms and a backyard.”
They looked in Cobble Hill, Carroll Gardens and Park Slope; they even saw one home in Manhattan. But the real estate market at the time was “popping,” and
everything their agent showed them was just out of their $125,000 to $200,000 price range.
Enter 658 Vanderbilt. The home had been on the market for $200,000 some time before, but it languished. When there were no takers, the agent, who had purchased it from the prior owner, put a renter inside and waited. Then, in 1989, the agent put it back on the market, this time at a $50,000 discount. At $150,000, it fit right in Baley’s budget; even better, it had the backyard she wanted.
“Bill is a carpenter, so the last thing we wanted was a handyman special,” said Baley about the work that eventually went into the home. “But it was so funny; it fit us.”
After moving in, Baley learned that
a very long history had attached itself to the home. She was told that their little
cabin had once, long, long ago, resided somewhere else. The story she’d heard placed the cabin in Prospect Park, as a summer home to the wealthy who lived in Brooklyn Heights.
“They would come and vacation in the ‘country’,” Heather said with a laugh.
But as the park became “more pedestrian,” the house, along with a few others like it, was moved via flatbed truck to its current location.
This story could be more legend than fact, however. Though local historians don’t dispute it, none have ever heard
such a story.
“The parkland over in that section, as
far as I know, had no houses on it,” said
Amy Peck, archivist of the Prospect Park Alliance.
Little 658 Vanderbilt isn’t the only
cabin in Windsor Terrace; there are actually two or three. Baley’s, however, is the only one that faces the street. According to John Burke, a local broker who was raised in the neighborhood, the others are hidden behind newer homes.
Baley’s home sits on its spacious lot behind a yard that overflows with flowers in the spring, and a stone path that leads past an actual driveway to the front door. Inside, Heather and Bill converted what was once a porch into a den. Beyond the den are a row of rooms: the living room, the master bedroom, the children’s room and the kitchen, each room connected to the next via doorways, which, one gets the sense, usually remain open.
“It’s deceiving,” said Burke. “Most people don’t realize it’s that deep of a house.”
“[The previous owner] would knock down a wall and put up a wall. Knock down a wall and put up a wall,” said Baley about the railroad style of the home. “And he didn’t know what a level was. There isn’t one straight piece in this house.”
When they first moved in, Bill built window boxes, now full of flowers, bookshelves in the den and a massive wood entertainment center and set of drawers. He also built a jungle gym for the kids out back.
Though the jungle gym has long since been replaced by an above-ground swimming pool, the sense of playfulness remains.
Baley divorced Lehre. But she and her partner of 10 years, Michael Napoli, now have plans for a grand renovation.
“We want to even out the peak in the front of the house, and go up one floor,” said Baley. “So we can have a real living area and not bedrooms on the ground [floor]. More bathrooms would be nice. A washer/dryer. I want it to grow just enough. I don’t want a huge house; I want it to be comfortable.”
The renovation would certainly add to the house’s value, which has climbed quite a bit since Baley and Lehre bought it in 1989.
“Because of the location — it’s a half block from the park, and a short block from the F train, and there’s the bus right there that goes to Brighton Beach — I’d put a price on it of $750,000,” said Burke.
Not that it matters. Baley doesn’t plan on ever leaving.
“I’m here until I die,” she said. “I love this neighborhood. I love this house.”