Oftentimes, what makes a “landmark” home a landmark is plain to see. Whether it’s a fancy façade or Victorian vernacular, the style – and historical significance – of such homes may be striking, or obvious.
However, when it comes to certain homes, their significance may be more difficult to see (even when squinting). And for some homes, their importance may be nearly lost among things “erstwhile” and “bygone.”
The Ross House, at 820 Third Ave. W. in Kalispell, is a bit of both. Overall, it’s a fine example of moderation in the “roaring ‘20s” – a modest house with a charming vernacular style built between 1920 and 1927.
For example, it’s not precisely a cross-gabled Craftsman, but something of a similar “cross-dormered” construction, one that adds living space and style without forsaking economy.
The home also features a full-length front porch. “Front porch homes” were quite a luxury, yet the Ross House exemplifies style and economy. Notice the porch railings (with the spindles squared at the top and bottom) give the illusion of a denticulated balustrade or dentil molding that typically adorn the cornices of more boastful residences.
Likewise, the stamped concrete block mimics the far more costly stone foundations of larger, more expensive homes as well.
And while the stylistic details and appointments of the home may take a minute or two to spot, the historical significance of the home may seem even less obvious.
The home is the namesake of Lynn Ross and his wife Isabel. In 1928, they rented the home from Mrs. Emma Gregg, who owned the home during the 1920s.
In 1930, Mr. and Mrs. Ross, along with their two daughters, did something that may seem quite strange nowadays: they shared the home with 16-year-old boarder Helen Froese so she could attend the nearby Flathead County High School.
At the time, many students attended a rural school up to the eighth grade. So for a child to continue their studies, a family would have to make boarding arrangements or move closer to a high school, which was typically located “in town.”
Many parents throughout the Flathead Valley faced a similar dilemma. Some sent their children to board in town, as was likely the case with Ms. Froese. Others managed their farm operations as best they could, and kept “a place in town” so their children could attend school during the “off season” and rented it during the summer.
Some parents sold their farms – and their way of life – to move into town so their children could continue schooling. Nowadays, we have the era of “No Child Left Behind.” Back then, some children were just plain left out. Education was perishable.
And education was cut short for many children, particularly those without means to board at a place such as the Ross House or the other neighborhood homes that were also rented out for students and their families.
The next time you drive along Third Avenue West, appreciate the Ross House for its clever-yet-stylish economy. And while education can seem ethereal (especially since we may not see enough of it), try to appreciate the Ross House for its harder-to-see legacy: its place in helping to educate a generation in the Flathead.