The stone walls were covered in plastic just a day before a the blizzard that felled trees and dropped feet of snow on the second floor of the John G. Borden house.
But the insurance company is reluctant to pay for a barn-like structure – a roof to protect what’s left of the building through more than a year of restoration.
On Monday after days of heavy snow, crews hoisted snowblowers on to the second floor, to evict tons of flakes squatting in bedrooms without walls. “It’s quite a mess,” contractor Scott White said.
A felled tree barely missed Borden’s stone office, which sits adjacent to the ruined house. The power lines, like many in the region, were downed.
White hopes last week’s blizzard will convince insurers that they shouldn’t bet against the weather.









A story hidden behind walls
Contractors are stripping the historic Borden House to the studs, to assess damage after a devastating fire.
by MEGHAN E. MURPHY
A nail between every finger, and a few between his lips, the lath man tap-tap-tapped wavy hickory strips onto the framing. A tap for every inch, turning his hatchet around for a whack, trimming off the end.
The painstaking handiwork that built old walls, mysterious old fire marks, and stone – breathtaking stone walls – all were revealed when the plaster was stripped away from the Borden House walls.
The Whites are skinning the place down to a skeleton. Structural engineers need to look inside and assess what’s left, and figure out how to bring it up to some version of modern standards.
“There were no codes back then,” Scott White says, pointing to a spot where a support beam was chopped out. The floor above balances on a wavy, shimmed base.
Alan White shows the composite of mud and hay used instead of cement to build old stone walls.
There were farmers making ends meet, putting in a new set of stairs here, tacking on some brick to the old chimney there. Axe marks pock the length of another beam, thinned with hacks to streamline it to the apex of a wall. To builders, the guts of the house read like a history book.
There was also, at some time, another fire. A charred burn near the ceiling is the only clue. There is no mention in the journals and farm ledgers that are still emerging from the wreckage five months after the 2009 fire.
On Tuesday workers were tackling the basement. The deepest corners still containing relics, soggy and coated in white mold like thick freezer burn.
The mold is daunting. Alan White takes a sip of water, turning over ideas on new technology that super-heats a room to kill mold.
Every spore means another dollar to the insurance company, another question mark on how much of this house can actually be saved.