That's really neat, Sparky!
How I wish I'd been able to buy the house I grew up in. My grandfather built it (well, HELPED build it, when he was in town--but he was in South America much of the time while it was being built) in the late 40s.
My parents moved into it when they moved back here from NY (my Dad for the first time, my mom returning home) after they got married. Ironically, my grandfather never lived in the house. He passed away shortly after returning to the states in the early 50s.
Anyway, we lived there until I was 5, then moved to a small town in upper East Tennessee, then moved a mile down the same road to a different little town--then two years later, moved back to the same house here.
But then we moved to Atlanta when I was about 12.
After returning here and having kids, in my late 20s and early 30s, I used to drive by our old house quite a bit. Took my grandmother there once, and we got an inside look. It was...different. It was like they'd started with our house then added rooms and foyers and fancy stuff until the part that had been our house was completely unrecognizable. That sort of ended up being its downfall though--had it remained the same, I think it quite likely that I, or someone else in the family, would have purchased the house when it went up for sale in the late 90s.
But none of us happened to have the 750K to buy it, and the guy who DID have that kind of money was a developer who was only interested in the many acres of land that were included. So now, the site of my childhood home is a gated community with about 5 or 6 houses in "my yard."