By Jack Krost

Castle House of Oakhurst

Did you know that there's a bit of the Rhone River Valley of Switzerland and France right here in Oakhurst? Stop by sometime and look at the amazing house at 138 Fayetteville Road, just off the square at Harmony Park. It looks like a castle, with ornamental parapets and a small tower on its left side. In fact, that's what neighborhood residents call it. The two-story, four-bedroom house dates from the turn of the century, and there are indications that the original owner patterned it after another house on the Rhone River. It also has a connection to the Civil War. It's believed a Confederate soldier is buried on the site. And then there's the story about the mysterious visitor, Mr. Lee. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. More on that in a moment.

Details about the house's origins are somewhat sketchy, according to Lori Crow, who was a tenant in the house in 1996 and has been involved with it since then as a real estate agent for MetroBrokers. She says original documents are unavailable, because Oakhurst's courthouse burned down early in the century, before Oakhurst was annexed by Decatur in 1916. But existing tax documents indicate the house dates from 1900, a time when Atlanta had a mere 90,000 residents and outlying towns such as Decatur were growing because of new, expanded trolley lines.

The house's construction is unique. It's made of rose quartz bricks embedded in stucco to fashion the exterior walls. Some other sections are granite, cut from Stone Mountain, according to owner Ken Askew. It's got a front courtyard with an exterior wall that looks like a fortification. But once you're in the courtyard, an inviting, intricate lead-and-glass front door leads inside the house. Crow says the house's interesting design and rose quartz exterior make visiting there an unforgettable experience. "The whole place has a wonderful spirit to it. There's nothing like it," she says. "Everyone who ventures inside doesn't want to leave."

The interior is a mixture of the interesting, luxurious, run down and bizarre. There are hardwood floors throughout. The den has built-in bookcases and a fireplace with a wood mantle and tile facing. The stairway has a skylight above and a window to the side. Most of the house appears to be its original construction, except for the modern kitchen. But you'll notice something very unusual about that kitchen, when you look upward.

The ceiling is patterned after the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, except that it's in the Fauvist painting style. Fauvism is a school of painting that grew out of post-Impressionism. It emphasizes bright colors and simplified designs, as in the work of Henri Matisse. Askew commissioned the work in 1993, when the real Sistine Chapel ceiling was undergoing a controversial restoration and cleaning. "I decided I wanted my own Sistine Chapel," he says. "I guess I played the part of the pope." The part of Michelangelo was played by Stan Mullins, a painter at the International Art Center in Athens. See the end of the article for pictures.

Askew is a former speechwriter. He's worked for former senator Sam Nunn of Georgia, Chrysler Chairman Lee Iacocca and the first President George Bush. There are various Latin inscriptions around the base of the ceiling painting, but one is a whimsical put-on. It says, "POTUS," which is the Secret Service's shorthand for president of the United States.

Askew moved into the castle house in 1986, at a time when not only the house, but the neighborhood had seen better days. "When I bought it, the city was trying to figure out how best to bulldoze the house," he said. Drugs and petty crime were facts of life in the area. But he knew there was something special about the house, so he had an appraisal and historic home report prepared. That's where things get interesting.

The earliest available record of the house dates from 1915, according to the appraisal by Allen F. Fleishel. It's a map kept by the DeKalb History Center, which lists the property owner as "Judson." The city directory for that year indicates he was Frank B. Judson, the president of the Atlanta Art Glass Company. It's believed Judson added a stained glass canopy to the front of the house. The canopy isn't there anymore, but you can still see the supports for it and bits of stained glass on the property.
But Judson doesn't appear to be the original owner of the house. City directories from before 1915 had him living in other locations, the appraisal says.
Another interesting feature is a guest house in the back, which at one time was a "coach house" or garage. The appraisal cites a 1924 fire insurance map, which referred to the structure as an "auto house with private garage." At that time, cars were a rarity in Atlanta, considered luxury items for the wealthy. Most people got around by the trolley, which came to within a block of the castle house. Askew lives at the guest house when he's in town, from New York City, where he has an apartment, and San Francisco, where he has a house. Tim and Renee Everett are tenants in the main house. They moved there in the beginning of August, with their young sons Blake, Joshua and Christian, after some electrical work and other repairs were completed. "I drove by the house and loved it. I just thought it was the greatest house," says Renee. But she says that originally, she had no idea the house is surrounded in such a combination of mystery and history. Tim is a resident at Emory University Hospital, and Renee works for His Hands Extended, a nonprofit association in Marietta. They hope to stay in the house a while, and perhaps buy it.

The most intriguing details about the house came to light in 1993, when Mr. Lee paid a visit. He was a very old man who was in poor health. A nurse helped him up the front stairs, carrying his respirator and knocking on the door. Askew says the elderly man only gave his name as Mr. Lee, but said that before he died, he wanted to visit the house where he grew up. Mr. Lee said the house's original owner, a relative of his, was an immigrant. And the relative had patterned the house after another one, where he once lived, along the Rhone River. Mr. Lee also told the story about the Confederate soldier. Askew knew someone had been buried on the lot, because at one time there was a decrepit gravestone on the right side of the house. It had disappeared one night, apparently stolen. Some Confederate troops passed through Oakhurst in their retreat from Sherman's army. But how exactly the Confederate soldier died is unknown.

So there you have it, an absorbing mix of facts and questions, of times and places, from the Civil War to the turn of the century, and from the Rhone River to the Sistine Chapel. The castle house has more than a few stories to tell.