To be honest, it is not just about the house.
It’s about the memories that have and will be created there. Since I can remember, I have sat outside the White House each Fourth of July to watch the parade go by with my family. Looking back at photos from years past, I can’t help but smile. The house seemed so big back then and I can remember being on my dad’s shoulders watching the floats go by and being genuinely happy. The house felt American in every way. From the rocking chairs on the porch to the bunted flags all over the exterior of the house, it resembled home, safety, and comfort. Barrington’s White House is home to so many of my childhood memories that, for the past year and a half, I have put my volunteer time into the restoration efforts in hopes that these memories will be continued to be created for years to come.
As I prepare for college, and as my days in Barrington are coming to an end, I want to leave this town better than I came across it. I hope that I can bring my own child here someday. With the resurrection of the old Robertson House, Barrington will come to have a place for gathering, a place of communication, and a place of celebration in which the history of the town’s past is combined with the present residence and the future memories that will flourish there.