"When one door closes ...

... another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the one which has opened for us".

The ill-fitting 1950's garage door that has been a constant source of vexation for me since moving into our home, seen here with a swatch of color and the mail slot removed

Photo: Chronica Domus

I respectfully disagree with Alexander Graham Bell, who famously uttered these words, at least when it comes to the subject of our garage door that is. I have known since the day we purchased our home, which was a very long time ago, that I would never regret the final closing of this particular door.

The original door to our garage, which was built in 1925, would have been of a very different design to that which is shown above, incongruously installed during the 1950's.

At the beginning of the 20th century architects began designing structures, similar to carriage houses, with the specific purpose of sheltering automobiles from the elements. The doors on these buildings were doubled, hung on hinges, and opened outward. They were known as carriage doors.  This was the type of door that originally dressed our garage, and a finishing touch which we longed to call upon in effort of restoring period-appropriate dignity to our home.

An example of early 20th century carriage doors similar to those which would have been original to our home

Photo: archive.org

Ah, you might think, an easy task once one has clarity of vision as to what is desired. As it turned out, it was a more complicated project than we had anticipated and many obstacles were to present along the way.  Firstly, where does one go to find such a set of doors?  The answer was certainly not the standard building supply outlets offering modern roll-up sectional garage doors.  The few salvage yards in our area were trolled over the period of several months, but the examples we saw were beyond what we would consider salvageable.  Besides, what were the chances of finding an exact fit? We soon came to the realization that there was only one option available to us, and that was to have the doors custom made.  Which brings us to our second obstacle.  Who could we possibly turn to to get the job done right?  

Again, this was not an easy task.  We followed many leads but unlike finding painters and general contractors, which are a dime a dozen, finding a capable person to build a set of carriage doors in our area was like finding a grain of wheat among the chaff.

Serendipitous circumstance led us to our answer.  We had worked with a painter last summer that mentioned a recent job he had completed where the owners had designed a garage door to be made to their specifications.  I excitedly asked the painter for contact details of the door maker, in hopes of following up with him.  Soon thereafter, we had scheduled an appointment with Ron, the owner of  Artistic Garage Doors, so that he could visit our home and discuss our project.  

Ron soon let us know that he could build anything we might desire but true carriage doors would not work for our situation.  Our Volvo wagon demands more shoulder room than the Tin Lizzy which might well have rested within the garage when first built.  Our existing door opens upwards.  True carriage doors which swing outwards would cause us to forfeit several inches of space from each side of the opening due to hinge requirements. This would present us with the problem of not actually being able to park our car in the garage as it would no longer clear the opening, making it somewhat less useful.

It seemed our desire to install period-appropriate carriage doors was to be foiled, or was it?

In my next posting I will share our altered approach to overcoming obstacles and finally realizing our vision.

 Nota bene: I am neither paid nor do I receive recompense in exchange for applauding products or services within my blog.  I do so because I enjoy them.  If you are a kindred spirit, you too enjoy recommending nice things to fellow good eggs.