Do you believe in love at first sight? Lissa Ardoin and Teresa Anderson do. That’s how they describe the way they felt when they saw their forever home for the first time in 2012.

“We were blinded by this love,” Teresa said, “and the cosmetic issues she had at that time were mostly invisible to us. She had fallen into a state of some disrepair, on the exterior. She had great energy though, and we felt like we were home immediately. I believe she may have been seeking us out, as we were searching for her as well.”

 A “For Sale” sign never went up. Lissa said she was looking for a house when she found out about a Garden District house that “needed work.” She asked to see it that evening. Papers were signed straight away.

 The house, designed by I.C. Carter, and built in the early 1900s was first home to the Adolph LaGrange family. The Robert Waldmeier family purchased the home in the late 1950s.

Before Lissa walked in she knew she wanted it.

“I did what you’re not supposed to do,” Lissa admitted. “I showed my hand. I didn’t want to look at it if I couldn’t buy it.” 

The house is solid and strong, constructed of long leaf yellow pine and supported by great 6-foot piers of solid red brick and brick skirting. Floors are original. Ceilings are almost 12 feet. The attic is cavernous, plenty big for additional living space. It is a house that withstood the Great Storm, except for some roof damage, according to the Lloyd Barras book, Early Homes of Lake Charles. 

“We have spent quite a bundle in our few years here,” said Teresa, “in upgrading and renovating her, to restore her former glory.” 

Any work they’ve done to the house, Teresa and Lissa agree, was done out of love and admiration. This is home, the place where they hope to live out their lives, not a monetary investment.

The first order of business after the couple moved in was hiring painters to freshen up the exterior. Each gable has a different gingerbread design, something that wasn’t noticeable when the house and trim were white. On the paint card, the trim color was listed as “Bordeaux” red.  Lissa renamed it “Boudreaux” red as a nod to her Cajun heritage. 

Lissa Ardoin’s great-grandmother spoke only French, while Lissa spoke only English, but she always knew exactly what she was saying.

Teresa Anderson is of Welsh and Nordic decent. The maternal Jones side, were heavily involved in the lumber industry, and grandfather, Charles H Jones, was well known in Westlake real estate development.

The house was re-wired and the original knob and tube wiring was replaced. The marble flooring in the bathroom was salvaged from the Majestic Hotel by Robert Waldmeier.  

Each room of the house was a different color when the couple first saw it, earning the house the moniker, House of Many Colors. The abundance of natural light and lively colors feed their creative spirits and bring smiles to visitors. They left the color.

They have made the house their own with local art, including paintings by Faye Crowell (Teresa’s mother), masterpieces by young family members and their own creative art pieces.

Their favorite vintage collectible is toys, but if something pleases them and brings a smile to their faces, it’s likely to find a place in their “House of Many Colors,” even a few dumpster saves painted in a sunny color. 

Teresa and Lissa did reclaim a room previously used for a master bedroom closet. Windows that wrap the room on three sides were uncovered. The room was painted. Windows were left unadorned and various sun catchers bounce the light around. Comfy chairs and a table were brought in. 

“This is where we do our “open-eyed meditation,” Teresa said. 

That’s their term for creative projects that can be found throughout the house. They take little credit for how their creativity has impacted the house.

 “She is a beautiful and charming ‘personality’ unto herself,” Teresa said. “She provides us sanctuary…an oasis of peace and happy contentment.” 

 

Lissa Ardoin and Teresa Anderson fell in love with this house-before the exterior was spruced up- as soon as they saw it, even before they went inside. (Rita LeBleu / American Press)

(Rita LeBleu / American Press)