When we finally found our home, after searching for over a year, the last thing on our minds were the oil and mineral rights to our property. We were worried about more pressing matters like the fact that our house had a crumbling foundation and wasn’t connected directly to the city sewer line.

After we moved into the house in the fall of 2002, while going through the paperwork from the title search company, I noticed that two of the home’s previous owners had entered into contracts with Union Oil Company of California in the late 1950′s and early 1960′s. But, that was over 40 years ago and we faced more immediate needs. I placed all the papers from the title search away and forgot about them for two years.

During the Spring of 2004, we received a letter from Mrs. O., the daughter of the second family to own our home. She mentioned that her father was paid $50 a month in oil royalties over 55 years ago. That caught my attention and I wondered how much those royalty payments would be worth today.

I contacted the Union Oil Company of California, or Unocal, and was told that they were not actively drilling in Los Angeles and hadn’t been for years. They informed me that the contracts found during the title search were old and no longer valid. So, I forgot all about receiving royalty payments.

In the fall of 2005, a neighbor mentioned that she was offered a substantial amount of money to sell the oil and mineral rights to her property but had decided not to sell. I wondered aloud if we should be receiving royalty payments. Our neighbor said she was pretty sure that the previous owners had retained the mineral rights to our house. I’m not quite sure how she came by this information and she wasn’t forthcoming. I searched for several hours through our paperwork and finally found the deed to our house. It stated the previous owner had given up any claim to the mineral rights for our property. Wow!

I contacted Unocal again and said that our neighbor was receiving royalty payments, had been for years, based on the old contracts signed with Union Oil. The Unocal representative became very frustrated and assured me in no uncertain terms that they were not making any royalty payments in the Los Angeles area.

Undeterred, I asked a different neighbor if she was receiving royalty payments. She was and offered to give me the name of the company who was paying her once she found it. She said the contracts had changed hands several times over the years and thought she was being paid by a company located in Texas. Our neighbor is elderly and at times becomes confused. She gave me names and addresses of several companies, some who had nothing to do with oil. After several weeks of false leads, she offered contact information for a company that seemed promising. The company worked in oil, was located in Texas and their company website had a link to royalty payments.

I contacted the company and a few days later received a response from an entirely different company also located in Texas. The mineral rights had just changed hands again. A few emails from the company later, I learned that the previous owner was still receiving royalty payments on our property. We faxed the oil company a copy of our deed and let them know that we were unaware that we should have been receiving royalty payments; this information had not been disclosed to us by the previous owners.

It took consistently emailing, faxing information, sending certified letters, filling out tax documents twice (the first set was lost), several exasperating telephone conversations and about four months to receive our first royalty check.

Mrs. O.’s father made out better over 55 years ago, but you know the saying…”Every little bit counts.”

David’s experience:
On Thursday of last week, the crew for the new DIY network show, “Restoration Realities” rolled into our house at 9am bringing cases of cameras, lighting equipment, audio equipment and power tools.

Our garage was transformed into a mini workshop, the back porch became the equipment staging area and our kitchen became the craft-service/break area. People whirled about setting up lights and cameras while the hosts planned out the projects and constructed the pieces needed.

We never knew how much work went into producing a show like this. Not only did they have to get the shots for the show, but off camera, they also had to do construction work. It was non-stop action that lasted till 11pm the first day, where at that point Heather and I were left with “homework” to complete for the next day.

Our job was to stain our newly constructed screen door. We stayed up till 1am completing the job and fell into bed knowing that at 7am it would all start again.

The second day proved to be even more hectic with the pressure to finish both projects (weather stripping the windows, the door and installing the new screen door) plus get all the rest of the shots done for the show.

In the end, it all came together. Although we did not get the security door we wanted, we did end up with a beautiful screen door that fits the period of the house, plus weather stripping. Everyone on the crew was really nice and we had some good times. We can’t wait to see the show!

Our metal security door. The bolts had to be cut off with saws.

Heather’s experience:
When I was a child, I was once in a television commercial for the Carson Perrie Scott department store based out of Chicago. The tv spot was an ad for Father’s Day. The fact that the father in the commercial had red hair and that my Mom was the Art Director made me a shoe-in for the part.

I don’t remember much about the experience except for the fact that the ad ran right after the television show “Gunsmoke.” What 7 year old, growing up in a small town in Indiana, wouldn’t be thrilled to be ON TV right after “Gunsmoke”?

When I was a little older I was on the local public television station’s morning show along with my dad and uncle. We were there to talk about the practice of raising and farming ducks, something that my family knows a thing or two about since that’s what they do for a living. I’m sure that was one riveting episode!

Yet, this impressive background in television didn’t begin to prepare me for being on a home improvement show, albeit a restoration minded one. First of all there is a whole crew of people that descend on your home. There are people in charge of lighting, sound, the cameras, a director, several producers, a production assistant, a lighting assistant, a carpenter and the show’s host. Most of these people come with equipment, large boxes of it.

Then there are the lights. These large, hot lights that are on tripod frames and ceiling height. A lot of time is spent adjusting the lighting and getting the correct angles. But, oh, the first time I saw our house on the monitors used to show what is being filmed, I was taken in by how the lighting made all the colors come alive and appear more vibrant, richer. All the wood trim seemed to almost glow. I wish our house always looked that lovely.

Bungalows are comfortable houses but rarely spacious and they feel much smaller once filled with a film crew, their equipment and all the towering lights. For someone who tends to feel claustrophobic in small spaces and shy around groups of people that I don’t know well, it was a bit overwhelming.

Some of the crew setting up a shot on Day 1.

I discovered the best thing hands down was something called “craft services” which consisted of every type soda pop, Doritos, Pringle, M & M, Kit Kat bar, crackers, nuts, and coffee imaginable. Our kitchen was converted into the craft services area and we were greeted with fresh out of the oven cinnamon rolls for breakfast, warm chocolate chip cookies and milk for a snack, and our lunches and dinners were picked up from local fast food restaurants.

Restorations Realities shot three episodes in Los Angeles. Our house was the second location. We felt a little sad when all the treats and sodas were packed up and moved on to the third house. It was easy to get used to such a great spread and someone to take our food order at meal times.

Even though the show is for the Do It Yourself network our screen door was pre-built and shipped in pieces to Los Angeles due the tight two day shooting schedule. If all we had to do was build a door that would be have been entirely do-able within the two day shoot. But, that doesn’t take into account the whole process of filming, and it is a process.

There is an outline or rough script that they follow as far as what needs to be said and shown on camera. The first day someone would tell us where to stand, give us an idea of what they would like us to say and how they would like us to move. Things like you’ll start at Point A and walk to Point B, positioning your body in a certain way so that you aren’t turning your back to the camera.

Each “scene” would need to be filmed several times to make sure the correct shots were captured with one of two cameras used. The scene would need to be reshot if someone flubbed a line or the lighting wasn’t just right. Or maybe you didn’t have enough “energy” after you had done a scene a few times so they shot it again to get a better reaction.

A big problem we ran into was noise from the city. We experienced all types of disruptions from planes flying overhead, to obnoxious horns that toot to a tune, lawn mowers or people in the neighborhood stopping by to ask what we were filming. Each of these disruptions required that we stop filming a scene and then start the scene over again after the noise had cleared.

I was most surprised by how much time and work it took to set up the scenes. The cameras had to be set up for the shots and the scene correctly lit. It sometimes took up to an hour to set up a scene and do the run through of where we were to stand and what we were supposed to say.

David and I were split up into teams. I worked on weather stripping with Bill the show’s host, while David worked with Chris the carpenter on the show to put together the screen door. Everything went well except for when I accidentally sanded Bill’s thumb with a power sander. Fortunately, he wasn’t hurt and possibly even benefited from the high-powered manicure.

Weather stripping the front door on Day 2.

The first day I had a wonderful time. The crew was very nice and joked around a lot off camera. The mood of the day was light hearted and playful. The first time I saw our screen door I was thrilled to see that it was finely crafted out of thick fir wood and beautiful. The quality of the craftsmanship was very high.

But, the second day just didn’t seem to go as well. I was too keyed up to sleep much after our first day of filming so I was tired. There was also some tension between people on the show which kind-of made the second day less fun. Things felt rushed and there was a lot less time spent explaining to us what was going to happen or what was being done to our house.

The way a door is to be hung or a threshold installed probably didn’t seem like a big deal to people working on the show but to someone who has spent the last two years of her life painstakingly restoring her house, those seemingly minor details were HUGE details to me. It just didn’t seem like there was enough time to explain what was going to happen and that caused me to feel very anxious.

About half way through the second day I really had doubts about why we decided to do the show and truthfully, I wanted everyone and their equipment out of our house. It is difficult to really describe what it is like to have people that you don’t know very well in and out of your house, moving around in frantic activity to adjust huge lights and cameras while projects are being done to your house. Projects that you are a part of but more in a secondary role because the projects have been planned out and are mainly being carried out by someone else.

The homeowners agree to the overall project idea upfront but in our experience, they have little say so as to what shape that project takes or how it is carried out. It is a strange feeling to be relegated to the role of sidekick after being the driving force in the restoration of your home.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like the film crew because that couldn’t be further from the truth. They bent over backwards to be nice to us. They are wonderful people who I genuinely enjoyed meeting and getting to know.

Having all this activity in the house was such a drastic change from my quite days spent with the dogs working from home. I started feeling very overwhelmed by the experience and upset because I didn’t understand how the projects were going to progress and come together in the end. Most importantly, I didn’t know what we would be left with after the film crew packed up and moved on to the next house.

Halfway through Day 2. If you know me well you can tell by the look on my face I’m stressed out but trying to play it off. This is my “just smile” only half a day left to go look. David is having a great time and going with the flow!

It was at this tense, meltdown moment that I had to film my personal interview. This is where they film you individually and ask you questions about your house, your hobbies and other get to know you better type of questions. It didn’t go well. If you watch the show I will be the woman with no hobby.

You mean that people who have full time jobs and restore their houses full time also have time for hobbies? Huh, how does that work? Watching television and sleeping didn’t seem to qualify. David, on the other hand, apparently sky dives in his free time! They say the wife is always the last know.

This is from a man who won’t tackle any home improvement project unless he’s clad head to toe in a hazmat suit, yet he wants America to believe he is jumping out of airplanes on the weekends. The David that does home improvement projects on tv is a very adventurous guy. In addition to sky diving he also engages in rock climbing. He might think this is really funny until he gets sky diving lessons for his birthday. That’s right, my husband thought it was fun to make up his hobbies, recounted bitterly by the woman who has NO hobby.

After my meltdown moment which I tried to play off, it is never a good idea to completely freak out in front of people you barely just met who are there for the purpose of capturing your likeness, house and spouse on film, I pulled myself together. It was 9 p.m. or later by the time we wrapped up the final shots which made for a long day for everyone. The crew had arrived at 7 a.m.

Filming the final shots on Day 2.

After having a week to reflect on the experience of being on a home improvement television show, I feel overall doing the show was a lot of fun. There were some tense, not so fun moments or hours, but in the end we were left with a beautiful screen door that we both love and a front entrance that is weather proofed. The show left our house in a better state than it us in when they arrived, were super nice to us and our dogs, plus they fed us tasty treats. Really, what more could any homeowner ask for?

I’m not sure how the screen door is going to work out for us long term from a security standpoint? We have considered putting a double cylinder deadbolt on the screen door but couldn’t bring ourselves to put a hole in our new door. A deadbolt also kind-of takes away from the welcoming aspect of a screen door.

The television show is called “Restoration Realities” on the DIY network. This is a brand new show and the first episode airs around March 6th. We don’t know when the episode we are on will air, they said it might not be until 2006, but we’ll keep you posted!

Our front entrance with the new screen door.

See more pics of from filming the show.

Read about how we were selected to be on the show.

Simon and Lulu photographed through the new screen door. So far they have been pretty good about not scratching it. They spent most of the two days we filmed upstairs and out of the way. Although, they were not very happy to miss out on getting attention from complete strangers – one of their great thrills in life!

We have large rafters on our house and the birds build nests in them. I asked the men to cover the open rafters with chicken wire to keep the birds out. There is a nest outside of our bedroom window that I wanted left alone because it has babies in it. The men speak mostly Spanish and a little English, I speak all English and no Spanish. The language barrier causes confusion sometimes and the men ripped down the nest.

When I saw the nest laying on the ground my stomach dropped. I didn’t see any baby birds in the nest or around it, so I hoped that the babies had already left the nest (they were getting old enough to fly).

While the men were eating their lunch on the front porch I decided to look for termite damage on the back of the house (another problem we are dealing with). I bent down to pick up some debris and was startled by a little black eye looking at me. I realized it was a baby bird who was alive but frozen with fear from the day’s events and a giant redhead looming over it. I went inside to get a pair of gloves to pick it up with and wondered what I would do with the bird once I managed to pick it up?

As I crouched down and tried to cup my gloved hands around the bird it flew about 2 ft. away, low to the ground. That is when I discovered the bird could fly; not well enough to fly to safety but well enough to fly away from me and to prevent me from catching it. I would get close to the bird and it would fly a few feet away. It flew under our fence and under a parked van. I searched under the van but couldn’t find the bird. I don.t know if it flew further away and out from under the van or somehow is hiding underneath the vehicle?

All the activity caught the attention of my neighbor’s Siamese cats. They are sisters who are outside cats and slightly wild. Their owner likes to keep them a little hungry so they hunt the numerous messy birds around her house.

The braver sister came over and started to look for the baby bird. The baby bird.s parents were close by in a tree and started screeching and dive bombing at the cat who in return started jumping in the air trying to catch and kill one of the parents. I chased the cat away but she kept sneaking back and lying in wait. I think she was trying to get the adult birds to fly at her so she could kill them. I put premium cat food in cat’s yard to make sure they were well fed and to distract them from the birds.

I haven’t been able to find the bird and don’t think it will survive with all the traffic and wild cats here. Watching the mother and father birds flying at the cat to save their baby was heartbreaking. They are sitting in the tree, chirping in a way that sounds mournful. Today they lost their house and who knows how many children? I feel like I made things worse by drawing the cat’s attention to their baby.

We replaced the mirror from the back of the built-in bench in our living room. We discovered an old newspaper placed behind the original mirror. The first thing I did was look at the year – 1912. Then I looked at the date. January 13, 1912. A little chill ran up my spine. Was this some kind-of sign from the house or just a strange coincidence that we discovered a newspaper 92 years later with today’s date printed on it?

The dual headlines read ‘All Californians for One California, Battle Cry of State Boosters’ and ‘North and South Grip Hands in Pledge to Share Future Prosperity’. The North and South the headline refers to are Northern and Southern California.

Also on the front page is First Lady Taft’s chicken salad recipe which, according to the article, had gained vogue with Washington’s smart set. This salad was made under Mrs. Taft’s personal direction:
Equal parts of white meat of chicken and hard boiled eggs cut in dices, sprinkling of celery and white nuts, the whole being covered with mayonnaise.

Listed right next to Mrs. Taft’s chicken salad is the headline “German Socialists Win Great Victory”.

Inside, the paper offers an interesting advertisement on hair health. “Scalp and hair troubles generally caused by carelessness. Dandruff is a contagious disease caused by a microbe which also produces baldness.” The cure was Rexall 93 Hair Tonic.

Boy, times have changed! “Los Angeles No.1 in List of Moral Cities, Speaker says this is cleanest municipality of Nation, San Francisco worst.”

An article that was of particular interest to David, who is half Chinese and half Filipino, “Chinese Soon Begin Observance of New Customs”. The article discusses how Chinese citizens living in Los Angeles will adopt a Roman calendar and set aside observance of the Chinese new year. The article went on to say, “Chinese new year, the great religious and commercial fete known to the followers of Confucius – a revolution of little less importance than that recently ended in the orient will be in progress, but it will be a revolution among the revolutionists, a transformation of spiritual, social and commercial ideas and customs, formally launching Christianity and it’s manifold advantages into the land of the rising sun.”

Another article discusses how a woman’s reply of “yes” to a written proposal was lost in the mail and finally delivered six years later. In the mean time, the would be groom decided that the answer must have been “no” when he did not receive an answer, so he married someone else. When the would be bride learned of his marriage she decided that he must have changed his mind. She also married someone else. It could not be determined where the letter was during those six years.

Years before Imelda Marcos, “Woman Buys 58 Pairs of Shoes At One Time”.

When Heather and I left tonight to go visit some friends, the first drizzle had appeared – signaling in the fall season in southern California. We were a little worried since our new roof is not yet complete, so we put a tarp over some of the boxes we had in the upstairs sun room which was exposed to the outside since the siding had been removed. We then headed out expecting a nice evening with friends. { Heather: Stupid or just optimistic? }

In the middle of dinner, after I had consumed my first martini and was well into my first beer, the rain started to really come down pounding on the streets and the rooftops. Heather started to get really worried because she was afraid our ceilings would get ruined. I shrugged the whole thing off thinking that there wasn’t anything we could do. After a couple minutes of debating the situation, Heather decided that she wanted to leave to check the house. I decided that I would go with her. So we cut our evening short and left.

Rain poured down from the sky on our drive home and the windshield wipers had difficulty in keeping a clear view of the road. The roads themselves were slick and the divider lines blended into the asphalt under sheets of water.

When we arrived home we quickly checked each room. The living room was ok. Our renovated dining room was ok (what a relief). Then I heard Heather yell, “We’ve got a huge problem!”

See that blue bucket on the top shelf just filling up with water?

I went into the kitchen and to my horror saw water dripping from different parts of the ceiling. Heather opened up the cabinets and brown water was dripping all over our clean dishes and glasses.

No, the horror isn’t how ugly our back porch is…it is that waterfall gushing down the wall!

We moved to the back porch and discovered a small waterfall flowing from the ceiling on the back porch and in the bathroom. We went upstairs and found water dripping in the upstairs bathroom and in the second bedroom as well.

We had a small disaster on our hands.

We scrambled around the house for buckets and I climbed up into the attic to see if I could contain the water up there. When I was in the attic I found water dripping from the roof, but not in huge quantities. Heather handed me paint trays and I put them under the leaks in the roof.

Crawlspace above the kitchen and back porch. Look at all that water! And that is knob and tube wiring!! Egads!!!

Heather told me the problem was actually in the crawlspace that was above the kitchen and back porch. As I was investigating the problem, Heather yelled “The ceiling is coming down in the kitchen! Get a bucket quick!” I ran downstairs with a bucket to find that the dripping was turning into a steady stream of brown water pissing from the ceiling.

Kitchen ceiling. The only thing still holding it up is the wallpaper.

At that point I decided I needed to get onto the roof and cover the unfinished roof with plastic. Heather called our contractor.

Heather wanted to get into the crawlspace with buckets to contain the water. I wanted to go out the second story window onto the unfinished part of the roof. I quickly moved boxes out from the crawl space and we put buckets in there to catch the water. Then I dismantled the window and tried to put a big piece of plastic on the roof. I was going to nail the plastic down but Heather didn’t want me out on the roof since it was raining.

Bathroom on the back porch flooded with water.

After some time our contractor and his father showed up to assess the situation. They then proceeded out the window and onto the roof with a big piece of plastic. They nailed the plastic down and told us they would be back tomorrow to finish the roof installation. They were very kind. They had even called earlier when we were out to tell us it was raining.

So now we have a HUGE mess. The ceilings need to be replaced in two rooms. They had to be replaced anyway, but now the need is more urgent. All our dishes need to be washed and the cabinets need to be cleaned and dried out.

Fun. { Heather: Not so much… }

Sometimes people ask, “How do you do it? How do you stay married while living in the house during the restoration?”

Well, sometimes we do it better than others. I’ve read interviews featuring other couples who have traveled down this road and when they say how they had no problems and this experience has brought them closer together in their marriage, I think who are they kidding?

Living without a fully functional kitchen for over a year like we have tends to make meal times difficult and we end up eating out more than we should.

The worst thing we face is what we term the “bathroom situation”. We have no shower. The upstairs main bath has been stripped down except for a bath tub. I feel sorry for David when I see him rinsing his hair by pouring water over his head from a cup. We have a working toilet and sink in a closet-sized half bath downstairs on the back porch, not very convenient in the middle of the night.

Plus, just the problems of an older house – bad electric, bad roof, furnace problems, mix in two busy careers equals one frazzled couple.

I will admit living with the state of our kitchen and bath has gotten easier as time goes on, a year and 3 months to be exact. It was a huge adjustment at first but now it seems almost normal. We don’t even notice it any more except on the rare occasions we get away and realize how much quicker and easier it is to take a shower, brush your teeth and style your hair all in the same room. You don’t realize how complicated a simple act like getting ready to go out for an evening really is when your bathroom is torn apart because it begins to seem normal.

We have no experience with restoration and are figuring things out as time and money allow. This leads to conflicts because, in truth, neither of us really knows what we are doing. Our approaches to projects are usually polar opposites and as different as our upbringings.

David’s father, who researched and developed different medical drugs in a lab, has more than a healthy respect for germs, almost verging on a germ phobia. I grew up on a farm, a germ’s paradise. We didn’t bother with shoes in the summer, spent lots of time climbing through years of dirt (or worse) in old barn rafters and hay lofts, playing with lots of different animals, hopefully taking a dip in the swimming pool to clean up, and if I was lucky remembering to wash my hands before eating. When you grow up on a farm you are going to get dirty. I don’t remember safety or germs being a big focus or even a focus in my house.

For Christmas David received a first aid kit from his father. My dad gave me a pry bar, a built-in saw wrench and bottle opener (I guess that comes in handy when the state of your house drives you to drink) and a rechargeable saw, drill and flashlight kit. We’ve used both the first aid kit and the tools, not necessarily in that order.

David: Wait, what are you doing with that sledgehammer?

Heather: I’m going to whack out the cement covering the front porch.

D: Wait. You don’t know what’s under there.

H: Yes, I do. I crawled under the front porch and I think the original wood floor is still intact.

D: You crawled under the front porch?

H: Yeah. I just took off some of those asbestos shingles and crawled under there.

D: Asbestos! Did you wear your respirator?

H: It’s fine.

D: It’s not fine. Wait, I think we need to make a plan.

H: I have a plan. I’m going to whack the cement floor with a sledgehammer, spray water from the garden hose on high power in the cracks to loosen up the cement and then pry up the cement with a crowbar.

D: A garden hose! What?

H: (Frustrated sigh…and a rolling of the eyes for good measure) It’s fine.

D: Put on some safety glasses! Wait, YOU ARE NOT EVEN WEARING SHOES!

These are the days of our lives…The only real piece of advice I can offer is this (the secret of our so-called success):

1) Put one person in charge of a project and let them do it in their own way without offering “help” or suggestions.

2) When you need the other person’s help with a project, let them approach it in their own way.

An example of this, again, has to do with our front porch floor. After days of backbreaking work removing cement that was 4 inches thick, rusty old chicken wire, nails, staples, and each of us getting tentus shots, we discovered linoleum glued to the top of the original wood floor. I can’t explain how upsetting this discovery was after all the work we’d done to get down to the original porch floor.

David was in charge of removing the linoleum. He tried pry bars, scrapers, heating the linoleum with the Silent Paint Remover and none of these options worked very well. After the 3rd night of working on this until 2 in the morning, I suggested that maybe we should just replace the wood floor or put down a sea grass rug but was met with, “Are you kidding! After all this I’m getting that damn linoleum up.” Man verses the linoleum. Man losing. Man finally allows his wife to help him.

D: What are you doing with that steak knife?

H: The blade is thin enough that I can get it underneath the linoleum to pry it up.

D: How did you even think of that? What leads you to think, “Gee, I think a steak knife will do the trick?”

H: It’s working!

D: We use that to eat with. I don’t want you to use it on the floor!

H: We’re not eating with it now…I just broke the blade. I’m going to go get another knife. I never really liked these knives anyway.

D: Okay, you’ve just broken the blades of 3 steak knives. How are we supposed to eat?

H: It’s fine! My technique is working. Do you want this linoleum up or not?

D: Some technique…grumble, grumble

H: What did you just say? You’re just upset that my way is working.

Finally…
3) Praise all the work your partner does even if you are less than thrilled with the outcome.

Our home inspection turned up many things, none of them good, but the strangest discovery was, to quote my husband, “a body-sized hole” in the crawl space underneath the house. I never actually saw the hole but made my husband describe it to me several times in detail. The hole was as wide as a man’s shoulders and at least 6 feet deep. How did David know it was that deep? Because the building inspector crawled over to the hole and poked a long stick into it. They didn’t discover a body, just some discarded rubble.

All old houses hold their mysteries but a body-sized hole wasn’t exactly one we wanted to know more about. Lying in bed that night, David and I speculated why anyone would dig a big hole underneath their house? Being a secret fan of true-crime murder novels (a guilty pleasure) and Court TV’s Forensic Files (a morbid fascination), all kinds of wild thoughts sprang to mind. The home’s present owner, Mr. Jolly, said he inherited the house from his grandmother and his uncle. Did we really know what happened to them? Plus, who has the last name of Jolly anyway? Maybe it was an alias or an attempt to hide a darker side? What if there were bodies buried under the house?

In the light of day, rationalism took over and we pushed those thoughts aside. We requested that Mr. Jolly have the hole filled and forgot all about it during the hectic time surrounding the move into our first home. Going back through the paperwork we recieved from the title company a contract to lease subsurface oil and gas caught my eye.

On February 1, 1957, John V. E. Santo and Antonia N. Santo entered into an agreement for the duration of 10 years with Union Oil Company of California “for the purpose of prospecting, exploring, mining, drilling and operating the land leased for oil, gas and other hydrocarbon substances” lying below a depth of 500 feet. The Santo’s would collect a royalty share of 1/6th of whatever was found. Although we don’t know for certain, we speculate that the body-sized hole was where they drilled for oil. For those of you who are wondering if it would be noisy or troublesome to have a search for oil going on underneath your dining room, the Santos owned the house but they didn’t live here. Their residence was in Pico, CA. This is probably around the time the upkeep on our house started to decline.

The house changed hands again and on April 20, 1964, Mr. Jolly’s grandmother, Winona M. Jolly, entered into the same contract with Union Oil Company of California for the duration of 10 years.

I don’t know if any oil or gas was discovered during those 17 years? Judging from the condition of our house, there didn’t seem to be a lot of money available to make necessary home repairs. I don’t think anyone struck it rich!