For so long have we been dwelling in the realm of industry and infrastructure here at Baltic that we have failed to appreciate a more humanized angle. For all we know these sandstone walls and concrete foundations could have been built by giants, aliens, or Gods – anything but the brittle and mortal man that we have come to know. But these epic structures were indeed built by men, and from time to time during our travels we are sometimes reminded of that simple but often overlooked fact. At Baltic it would be the discovery of remains from a simple house that would provide our much needed human perspective for the day.

It would be a simple red-brick wall – thinly veiled in the calico tapestry of a mid-fall forest – that first gained our attention as we moved east from the No. 2 surface plant. A narrow and winding path had cut through the thick forest to open up to a wide field – in which sitting in the middle was this red-brick wall. At first it seemed to stand alone, but as we got closer the rest of the structure poked out from the weeds that surrounded it. This was a house, or at least it use to be at one time. The brick wall we first saw was its grand fireplace.

From its opposite side, the true opulence of the fireplace could be seen. This was no simple miner’s house – not with this fireplace. Its flue was made of iron – exposed through the brick after years of decay. Most notable was the large sandstone blocks which supported the mantel and hearth – a material that would only be used in a building of stature.

It appeared as if the building had burnt down – either intentionally or by accident. While its wooden walls and roof were now only charred remains, the building’s foundation was still intact. While the building was not large, the extensive use of bricks as a foundation material would also seem to further its air of importance.

Jutting off from the main part of the house was a back addition, which sported its own separate chimney from the main fireplace. An opening half way up its length suggested a stovepipe was once connected to it – perhaps from a wood burning stove from the kitchen.

Coming out from this small back room was a set of intact concrete stairs – which seemed very odd and out of place in all the destruction. An old rail made from pipes was still mostly intact along its length. For a back door, this stoop seemed rather formal for a simple house.

Stepping up on the large stoop I was able to get a panoramic view of the entire ruin. The house was “L” shaped, with the small back addition jutting out from the buildings back corner. To the left stood the large fireplace, and centered along the opposite wall was yet another stoop – this one for the front door I would guess. Inside the ruins were a large amount of debris including charred beams and iron cans and bed springs. Also interesting was a large pile of what looked liked rounded ceramic roof tiles. Yet another reason to believe this was something a tad bit more important than a simple miners house.

My guess is that this belonged to the mine, and was perhaps a pay office of some sort. This would possibly explain the more prominent back stoop (used by workers to come collect their pay perhaps). The large fireplace would at least suggest a captain’s or mine officer’s office. Either way the whole building was far too close to the mine to be anyone’s house.

But then again, perhaps the building belonged not to the mine after all. Perhaps it was more closely associated to the nearby cheese factory – more specifically the Stella Cheese Factory. That’s next…

NOTICE: This house as well as the Stella Cheese Factory ruins are on private property and are not open to the public for exploration. Please keep out!

UPDATE: It appears that this house was indeed part of the Stella Cheese Factory, moved here in the 1930’s to serve as an administration office it would seem. The original house was built in 1840. According to the owner it was destroyed sometime around 1997.