Cliff Hangar Home

In early 2006 my husband Jerry and I sat in the kitchen alcove of our south Florida home looking out over the lake through palm trees and waterfalls.  A  warm breeze rippled the water and a Heron slowly made its way across our field of view, waiting for the right minnow.  A mother squirrel came out of her tree top nest and sat on top of the flat top wooden house to survey the morning.  The bluejays gathered on the patio hoping to scoop up some of the peanuts we were about to place outside the open window for the squirrel.  

“So what could be better than this, “ I asked. 

“Well, it IS nice,” said Jerry, “but it’s so FLAT.”

“Flat? As in no mountains flat?, I replied. 

“Right, no mountains.  The lake is nice, but don’t you think some mountains in the distance would be refreshing?”, said Jerry. 

“Well, if you’re going to go down that path,” I replied, “then you might as well add fall foliage, baby bears, rocks made of granite and quartz, and summers that don’t feel like the Titanic’s boiler room.”   

“Ok, that sounds good."

" Seriously though, this is a great spot here in Florida but do you want to be here for the rest of your life?”  I said. 

“Well,” Jerry mused, “since you brought it up, I’ve been thinking that it would be nice to have some variation in seasons and build a dream home in a special place. How about this wish list: two or three thousand foot elevation, lake view; a seaplane-friendly lake, of course, multiple mountain ranges in every direction, stunning sunsets over the mountains and lake, and a beautiful morning sunrise to the east.”  “Add some forest and privacy, but of course a paved road in and utilities.” 

“Yeah right!” I exclaimed, “call up a real estate agent with that and they’d hang up in hysterics!” 

Which is exactly what happened.

Ed Reams isn’t your every day real estate broker.  As I made my calls and searched the internet for that dream spot in preparation for a two week sojourn to scope out mountain and lake land, I picked up the phone and dialed Ed’s number.  I was now used to the laughter I got every time I tried to describe what I was looking for.  

“We have that”, Ed said, after I described our dream spot. 

“What?” I replied, surprised at this answer after the guffaws I had received from everyone else. 

“Well, this is a rather unique area”, said Ed.  “We have mountains in every direction, and a beautiful lake in the middle. Seaplanes? I’ll check on that.”  Ed sounded very matter of fact, as if this dream making was entirely normal and, in fact, possible.

The Heron found the right minnow and his beak darted quickly into the water.  Breakfast!  Mom squirrel was now patiently waiting at the open window for the peanuts.  A Bluejay perched on a branch nearby, ready to swoop in a take what the squirrel left behind. 

“But we have this problem.  What we are thinking about sounds wonderful, but where will I rebuild airplanes?” 

“Hey, we could get an aeronautical sectional chart showing all the airports in the areas we are interested in, and visit them on our trip.” I said. 

“What is it that you do?”, asked the Andrews-Murphy airport manager Dan Ellis. 

“We restore antique airplanes.  We were hoping to lease some aiport space here so I can move my business here.” Said Jerry. 

“Do you do maintenance”, asked Dan. 

“No,” replied Jerry, we only do restoration.” 

Dan looked thoughtfully out at the tarmac.  A Gulfstream jet was being fueled for a trip out and a student and instructor were getting out of a Cessna 172 nearby. 

“So if a Waco biplane came in here with a rough running engine, you wouldn’t fix it for him?”, asked Dan. 

“No, I wouldn’t, because we just do restoration, not maintenance,” said Jerry. 

Dan grinned broadly and said loudly, “Well, GOOD, because I do maintenance!” 

Jerry looked very relieved. 

“Welcome to Andrews-Murphy airport!” said Dan.

Richard MacCrea, the home designer, peered through the transit. 

“You guys are going to be cliff dwellers.  I can’t believe how steep this slope is.  Look, you can't even stand up straight, you have to sort of lean into the mountainside.” 

“We’ll step the slope and have footers on two levels,” said Jerry. 

“And with decks cantilevered out on the west side, we’ll be sort of hanging on the mountain side won’t we,” I piped in. 

Jerry and I looked at each other and thought the same thought.  “CLIFF HANGAR!”, we both said out loud.

Welcome to CliffHangar.  Thanks to Ed Reams, we found and bought the dream spot in May of 2007 after a two week car trip through Georgia, Tennesee, and North and South Carolina.  Now we’re building the house – the self designed retirement home we’ve always thought about but didn't dare to dream about - until now.

Find out more about Ed Reams.