If you head toward the Maine coast from Bangor on U.S. 1A, you come to a hamlet on the Penobscot River called Frankfort. Drivers are forced to slow down to negotiate a sharp lefthand turn, and when they do, they’re confronted with this house. Like many travelers, I stopped to take a couple of pictures. I’m not sure I’m showing the place to its best, or worst, advantage in the image above; there’s much more to take in here than you can capture in a five-minute stop.
Looking at the picture after the fact, I felt sure I could dig up some of the place’s history. I was right. The first thing I came across was a recent real estate listing that identifies the building as the Franklin Treat house, built in 1864. The agent’s writeup is unusually frank:
“The materials used and craftsmanship can still vaguely be seen, but decades of abandonment and lack of maintenance have taken a rough toll on this former beauty. Currently in need of a massive clean out then extensive renovations and repairs, this 4,300 square foot historic icon could offer up to 6 bedrooms and as many bathrooms with its three floors. Bring your safety shoes, flashlight and visions of preservation!”
The former elegance “can still vaguely be seen.” “In need of a massive clean out.” “Bring your safety shoes.” As my dad often said when looking at some lost cause house along the road, “All it needs is a little TLC.”
Listings show this beaten-down wreck and its one-acre lot went on the market for $79,900 in early 2024, eventually selling for $35,000 a year later. From all outward appearances, little or no work has been done on the place by its new owner, whoever she or he or they may be. A stack of books visible in one of the front windows in a Google Street View image from 2023 is still right where it was.
But there is more to learn and appreciate about this house. In 2022, Down East magazine ran a beautifully wrought short feature about the house. The very best part of the piece is the story of how the writer, Michele Christle, got to know the home’s owner, a man named Dana who bought the place years ago with a notion to turn it into a bed and breakfast:
“Dana purchased the forsaken mansard in 2013, sealing its fate in his once-capable hands,” Christle wrote. “I have now passed countless hours on the porch with him, our conversations often obliterated by Jake Brakes. I learned that he oversaw the renovations of four historic bed-and-breakfasts on Mount Desert Island, where he was an innkeeper for 25 years. The mansard is the sixth house he’s owned. Now 72, he enjoys entertaining, company, and surprises. The yard sales keep him going. Some days, however, his tone shifts. ‘This house is killing me,’ he’ll say. He’s survived two heart attacks; his kidneys aren’t functioning well. Doctors estimate that he has two years left to live. But he’s accomplished almost everything he set out to do in life, he told me. He doesn’t have regrets, except, perhaps, that he hasn’t been able to ‘do’ the house.”
The Down East story carries an editor’s note that Dana died shortly after the piece was published. On her own site, Christle called Geel an “incredible human.”
“I learned so much from Dana during the many hours I sat with him on his porch during his yard sales over the years—he was a magnanimous human, a showman full of generosity and hospitality,” Christle wrote. “He was kind, gentle, hilarious, and brimming with ideas for projects and a deep appreciation for spontaneity. I continue to learn from Dana (and his family and friends) even after his passing and am grateful for all he and the Treat Peirce house have given me to think about.