CAPE MAY — The city’s history is a story with a lot of twists and turns packed into a tight novella.
Each neighborhood might be only a few blocks in size, but those communities are distinctive from each other in myriad ways.
Take the 900 block of Kearney Avenue, for example. Just east of the dizzying heights of high Victorian, 19th-century architecture surrounding Columbia Street and one block north of some of the most recognizable seaside mansions on the East Coast, this stretch lives in memory of one of the most progressive eras of the 20th century.
The spruce little home at 930 Kearney Ave. was built in 1950 but was clearly meant to blend in with its more august neighbors at the time. Even then they were thinking ahead; setting the house slightly above ground, devising an entrance that would offer breezy sociability for the residents to sit outside at twilight — the traditional time to greet the neighborhood and catch up on gossip — while still guarding the privacy of the home from casual summer-time lookyloos.
There are stories galore of private homeowners on the island who discovered people eating lunch on their front porch, for example, or welcomed the morning by tripping over some tourists sleeping.
It seems fences, signs and sheer obviousness are not enough for a particularly determined type of summer pest — er, guest.
Well, no worries at 930 Kearney Ave., despite the fact that it’s only two blocks from the beach; some clever architect made the front porch entrance a retrousse walk-up from the paved path near the back of the house.
The landscaping that wraps sinuously around the entry should serve as a gentle reminder that one should really wait for an invitation before making oneself at home. For those who are home, it’s a private welcome to a calm oasis in the heart of a popular beach town.
The architect had other ideas as well, as they often do, and many of those ideas are still perfectly intact inside the home — built-in storage, a unique hallway design on the main floor that makes the most of light and air exactly where it’s most wanted — all have survived the decades since 1950 unscathed.
The floor plan on the top floor teases out four bedrooms (technically five, with a small attached room) and two full bathrooms from the available space without feeling cramped.
The primary bedroom is large and bright; there is another bedroom almost mirroring it on the opposite side of the long wooden staircase, but the primary bedroom has a door from the hallway turning one of the full bathrooms into an ensuite bath.
The three smaller bedrooms feel cozy and old-fashioned but not claustrophobic, even the smallest one that appears to have been made by enclosing an upstairs deck has a sunny charm.
Part of this is the careful maintenance by the previous owners, of course; no house gets to be old if no one takes care of it.
But there is a real vibe to this home, and it’s nothing that can be mass-produced that makes the 1,820 square feet feel somehow bigger.
It’s not cluttered enough to be a stereotypical grandma’s house, unless your grandma happened to be a designer of sleek modern spaces who just wanted her vacation house to be simple and relaxing.
The old-school mid-century paneling is rare now, as most examples of it on the Cape fell victim to the region’s roughest years, but precisely because it was the token of a singular era it feels really good to see it again, especially looking so bright and clean. To a certain kind of visitor, the interior spaces of this home will work better than blood pressure medication.
The main floor is so unique it’s worth preserving, beginning with the main entrance that opens from the west right into the living room.
The dining room is to the right, which is completely outlandish: it should be closest to the kitchen, but instead it looks over the backyard, receiving the light from the sunset and more privacy from the street, so the family can talk at dinner without broadcasting to the neighbors.
A center hallway runs north to south from the side closest to Kearney Avenue to the back of the home, but once again we see the retrousse flip as the staircase heads upward from the back wall.
There’s a story prompt in these decisions, now nearly 80 years gone: was this architect just very tired of people wandering into places they shouldn’t go? Because as psychological barriers go, these physical spaces really dictate the acceptable behavior with aplomb.
It also, coincidentally, means the long wooden staircase is beautifully lit by windows facing south — not only the brightest year round, but also catching the sound of waves from the sea only two blocks away, which must be enticing at bed time.
The kitchen is in the southeastern corner, catching all of the morning light. It is fairly recent but there is still an original built-in china hutch near the sunny breakfast nook, which is on the far side of the counter.
Beyond that, the kitchen is a simple galley of clean oak cabinets leading back to a laundry and utility room that should be the envy of most, even if it’s not terribly fancy; it’s bright and cheery and no one has to contort themselves to do the work of cleanup and repair.
Looking at it, and its square tile floor, ample storage and utility sink, one can feel one’s back muscles unclench just a little. The door to the backyard opens here, but not before we get one more chance to go back to the center hallway, either to carry the laundry upstairs or to use the powder room hidden away off the hall.
Once outside, all of the unique decisions prove to have been the right ones, as a spacious back garden with a paved patio and mature shrubs offers light-speckled privacy from the world.
A small outdoor shower and a large accessible shed help ground the back of the garden, making it feel secure but not crowded.
This is a perfect space for playtime, entertaining or just relaxing after the beach. The home has a proven record of being a popular rental, but the owners are pausing all of that to help the house find just the right new owner. They’re helpfully offering much of the furniture in the sale.
