…hint: the swords were not real antiques
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My Town, By Cora Hayes
333 Glass Street: My House
I’m Cora Hayes and I’m a Seeker for hire. Think of a combination detective, spy, explorer and information dealer. I seek out and find things that people want, from information to other people.
In this series, I’ll be telling you about my town, Goldglass City, and the places and people in it. I’ll drop a few secrets, too, free of charge. If you can use any of this information, great.
Before I describe my home town, let me just say that Goldglass City is not much of a city anymore. More like a medium sized town of 40,000 people, down from nearly 120,000 back in 1860, ten years after the Holloway Brothers, Henry and Walter, discovered both gold and some high quality glass making materials. Things were booming for a while, until the gold ran out in 1873 and the glass factory burned to the ground in 1885. Now, the town is just a hub for farmers to bring their goods to either the railroad station or the barge port on the river.
My house, which contains my office, is a large Victorian. It was built by my maternal grandfather, who had the shrewd business sense to come here 3 months after the gold strike and open not one, but two saloons/gambling halls/brothels. He ran them for 11 years, then sold them for a high price a couple of years before the mine closed. Five years later he bought what was left of them for back taxes. He was a successful businessman here until he died in 1915.
The house has a large drawing room, dining room, kitchen and bathroom downstairs. It also had quarters for 4 servants. I had that converted to my office when I inherited the house upon my grandmother’s death in 1922. There is a large backyard with a very nice garden.
Upstairs, there bedrooms for myself and my sister, Lillian. Lily takes care of the house and finances, since I am gone so often. Each bedroom had a private bathroom. The remaining two bedrooms were rebuilt into my rather large private museum and file room. There is no attic.
There is, however, a basement. It has several distinctions, the first being that it is all one big room that I use for target practice and physical training. Another fact about it is that is is soundproof, hence my ability to target shoot and time I care to.
The basement also has a secret tunnel that runs under Glass Street and into the basement of the Donerton Building across from my house. Very handy for leaving unseen.
And then there is Grandma Philly, or rather, her ghost. When she cast off this mortal life back in 1922, she did it here in the basement. Heart attack. But being the kind of protective grandmother she was and is, she decided not to go to her reward, but to stay here and offer advice and the odd warning. To be honest, these last 6 years have been better for having her here.
In my next entry, I’ll tell you about the raucous family that lives next door. See you then!
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