I pulled up to the Goodman-LeGrand House and Museum here in Tyler, and it truly felt like I was pulling into someone’s driveway. I looked up at the beautiful mansion, and I admired the condition of the house over 100 years old. It had a nice covered porch, and big wooden front doors. Just like I was stepping into someone’s house, I entered and see someone’s home. To the right was the front desk, and an employee approached me to ask some questions. No, I’m not from Tyler, but I live here. First time at the Goodman LeGrand, and no, I will not be needing the guided tour today.
Directly across from the door I entered was another, nearly identical, and I wondered which was the proper front door. The first thing that caught my eye about the room were the glass display cases in the center of the room, filled with pristine artifacts from the original residents’ personal belongings. Jewelry, some shaving tools, a pocket watch, etc. I felt like I was rifling through someone’s purse and other personal belongings. I wasn’t sure if things had travelled forward in time to me, or if I had travelled back to it.
I moved further into the house and came across the parlor to the right. Inside were some chairs, and a piano. There was also a rather large painted portrait of a girl, whom I later found out was a beloved cousin. At the corner of the room, there was a small end table, upon which I saw a set of two statues; one was of Jesus Christ, and the other of his mother Mary. I grew excited and thought to myself that perhaps the residents were of the Catholic faith, as the statues looked of a Catholic style.
In the center of the wall, directly across from the doorway I was standing in, there was a full-length mirror, and a chandelier above, in the center of the room. One of the curators stopped by and told me to look across to the opposing room, in which there was an identical mirror and chandelier. They had intentionally set up the mirrors in such a way that if you had both doors open, and looked at a mirror just right, it would look like an endless portal, full of shiny glass chandeliers. It had a breath-taking effect, and was a clever addition to the home.
I continued my exploration of the house, turning around to inspect the room directly across. This room seemed to be either an additional parlor, or perhaps a living room. A plaque said the couch was imported and was the largest couch in Tyler at the time. It was a piece to brag about. To the left were a desk and what used to be a fireplace. A plaque said it used to be a real fireplace but was converted to gas when the inhabitants updated the house in the 20’s. Above me on the ceiling was the original artwork of roses and green stems. It had been covered up for some time but was uncovered during restoration work on the house.
I moved on to the dining room, where there was a beautiful wooden table, and a large wooden, hand-carved cabinet for some of the dishes. The woman of the house had hand painted and finished a large china dish set, with more pieces elsewhere in the house. She and her husband were quite proud of the beautiful, artistic detail of the flowers. I loved her choice in colors, for the dishes, the furniture, and even the wall papers.
I turned to the right, where there was a small hallway, side to side from me, doors on either end. To my right was another dish display cabinet and a shadow box full of a collection of spoons. Further ahead of me was the kitchen. Rather quaint in size, it was quite modern and updated. A small fridge, a little table, and a tap for water. It was a great kitchen, especially for its time.
Moving on, I cut back through the dining room, and headed to the stairs next to the door I entered the house through. The railing was short, and the steps were small. I crept upstairs carefully, scared of falling as the first floor was rather tall. St the top of the stairs to my right was a door to the upstairs, covered, wrap-around porch. Of course, there was a sign that said not to enter, so I moved on to the upstairs bedrooms. There were three. The first was a nursery, meant for the firstborn son, who was sadly stillborn. The couple never again tried for kids, out of fear. They kept the crib, but turned the room into a guest bedroom, which I believed someone stayed in for a short while.
The next bedroom belonged to her sister, who died young and unmarried in her thirties. She had a beautiful room, with an old gas lamp converted into an electric lamp, and a vanity that matched her hand carved, wooden bedframe. There were many classic, old books in the bookshelves just outside her room. I was quite happy at the sight.
The last bedroom belonged to the couple. They had a hand carved bedframe, with a matching dresser, vanity, chest, and wardrobe in the other room, all of which were wedding presents from her father, at a local Baptist church (to my dismay) To the right was a wheelchair, in which Mrs. Goodman was confined to for the last few years of her life, spent downstairs in the house. Alone. Her entire family had died, but she found peace in her garden.
Photo of the Goodman-LeGrand Museum & Gardens from the City of Tyler website