News-Record.com

He was mowing the grass last week, finally drying out from the big rains, when Larry Simmons noticed something missing: About six feet of his backyard.

A sinkhole had caved in overnight at the back of his lot in Adams Farm, and Simmons was looking down into a 4-foot-deep abyss where grass used to be.

The city came out to investigate, and the news wasn't good: A storm-water pipe buried 20 feet below Simmons' driveway was possibly leaking and may have to be excavated, in what city field operations chief Dale Wyrick said supervisors described as one of the worst cases they had seen.

Worse still for Simmons is that this is only the latest problem the retired Lorillard employee and his family have had with the home they bought new in 1994.

Repairs in the tens of thousands have been needed for cracking walls, a dip in the roof and a settling problem so severe that the now-defunct contractor was ordered, after two years of litigation, to prop the home up on eight underground jacks and rebuild one side.

"I'm afraid if it rains again like that, the house is going to start sinking," Simmons said Friday, as the sky clouded over the suburban cul-de-sac near Mackay Road. "First house we ever owned, brand-new house, and we're stuck. But it looks nice."

It also lends a strange irony to the story of a family on the other end of town with quite the opposite problem: Three very old, perfectly good historic structures near Blandwood Mansion are about to be demolished, even though they are available free for the taking, and the city is willing to pay for them to be moved.

The reason, of course, is the coming expansion of the downtown county jail, which is supposed to break ground in 2009. This will make it necessary for interior designer Ginia Zenke to have her mother's restored 1830s home moved to Washington Street, facing Blandwood.

But three adjoining buildings - two turn-of-the-century "shotgun" style houses and a 1910 brick duplex with diamond-paned windows - have no takers, despite moving expenses available through the city's neighborhood redevelopment program.

According to Zenke, whose mother, Virginia, played a key role in saving Blandwood itself from demolition in the 1960s, a prospective buyer for the shotgun houses backed out in July. So did Greensboro College from its interest in the brick duplex, with the news that railroads charge $20,000 for a building to be moved across train tracks.

With both the home-buying market and the lending industry flat, Zenke now finds herself with a deadline, unless a taker with land appears. Even though the two houses and the duplex have nowhere near the appraised value of the land they occupy, Zenke would argue that they are distinctive pieces of city history worth saving.

"Fixed up and in the right neighborhood, they would appraise beautifully." she said. "Two years ago, we thought it was doable. But now, time is running out."

After the family's restored house is rotated to face Blandwood, the Zenkes will have a view of history out front, and out back, a new jail.

So it goes, in a city of two tales.

One is on a suburban cul de sac, where a family is stuck in a cheesebox with a sinkhole in the backyard.

The other is on one of the oldest blocks in Greensboro, where three century-old buildings are about to be demolished because no one wants them, even for free, to make way for another poured concrete monstrosity.

"What does that needlepoint pillow say?" Zenke mused. "'If you can't say something nice, come sit by me.'"

Interested in the buildings on Blandwood? Contact The Zenkes Inc. at 273-5200.

Contact Lorraine Ahearn at 373-7334 or lorraine.ahearn@news-record.com