Vintage Voices: In Dad’s footsteps

In my world, the first week of February has always brought forth the joy of celebrating my Dad’s birthday. To myself and my two older sisters, he has always been our first superhero, the man who could scare away any monster, the best bear-hug giver, and a partner in crime when raiding the cookie jar. He is a true artist living within the occupation of an architect. In fact, all of his blueprints are works of art as he is one of the few architects to still draw every line, angle, and curve by hand using traditional tools of the trade. Over the course of my life, I have witnessed the countless wide-eyed reactions of those bewildered by his craft on the drafting board as well as the canvas. I have also lost count of the number of times I have been asked, “Are you a great artist like your Dad?” And while I like to boast that my stick figures have evolved elegantly over the years in their slender portrayals of real life, unfortunately, my artistic DNA does not show itself on canvas. However, his thoughtfulness and ability to compliment a client’s unique personality and life story in order to create the perfect home for their family laid the foundation for me to follow in his footsteps as a public historian. This one’s for you, Pop…

While architecture and public history are seemingly worlds apart, my work in preserving the stories and personalities of others is grounded in the lessons I learned from watching Dad work with his own clients throughout my life. Dad has been practicing architecture for almost 40 years, the last 25 of which have been from his office in Coeur d’Alene. Growing up, I spent a lot of time in Dad’s truck driving to job sites, blueprint shops, and lumber retailers. While my after school snack often included a bag of hardware store popcorn, there were many days where I found myself going straight from the classroom to a conference room. When I accompanied Dad to his client meetings, I had a front row seat at the table where I would listen to clients tell him about their lifestyle needs, family dynamics, and their visions for their perfect home. I watched him take it all in and respond with an adapted solution that would improve their family’s functionality while reflecting their style. I learned that every house is as unique as the client who dreams it up, just like everyone’s story is as unique as the person who lived it.

These lessons are in the forefront of my mind when I start a new history or legacy project. Just like building your dream home, the finished product should be a statement of who you are and it should reflect your style of storytelling. The first thing I do is sit down with an individual to learn more about who they are, where they come from and where their journey has taken them. Then I dream up a project and finished product that fits their personality and honors their style. Often in these meetings, I greet a person who is bogged down with the intimidating task of tackling such a feat, and just like I witnessed in Dad’s client meetings, we all walk out with the excitement of knowing what is possible and a plan to bring the project to life. So, while I may not be the next Rembrandt, I am forever grateful to be Rann’s kid.

Feel free to reach out to me through my website: sarajaneruggles.com.