No one’s getting rich on this project, but, collectively, everybody can share the wealth in it, and it’s not just monetary wealth; it’s workmanship, it’s pride, it’s preservation.”

Ed Redmond

The clouds were rolling in overhead, but Edward Redmond’s disposition was as sunny as ever as he strolled through the abandoned, disheveled interior of the Longfield estate last Thursday afternoon.

Just three days prior, the Bristol Zoning Board of Review delayed its decision to either deny or approve Mr. Redmond’s proposal that would involve constructing four new carriage-house-style structures that would frame the renovated and restored historic building at 1200 Hope St., not far from Rockwell Elementary School. The rare show of emotion he expressed toward the end of that meeting was once again hidden away under a blanket of optimism. 

“I’m not frustrated, I’m not disappointed. I just want to keep moving forward,” he said. 

Love at first sight

Mr. Redmond’s journey to this point started a year ago, when regular drives to a scuba shop in Warren caused him to catch glimpses of the dilapidated house peaking through a shield of trees just off Hope Street. A native of Vermont and New Hampshire but longtime lover of the sea, he had just finished reading “The Boatbuilders of Bristol” and fallen in love with the history of the town he so regularly drove through.

As a developer with Preferred Realty Services, LLC by profession, the for-sale sign at the end of the driveway piqued his interest until finally, curiosity got the better of him and he pulled into the lot for a closer look.

Two hours later, he was hooked.

Before long, Mr. Redmond found himself heading into Town Hall, officially putting his plan into motion.

“The first thing I said when I walked into Town Hall when I saw the house — ‘I need to see the building jacket on Longfield’—the whole place went quiet. ‘What are your intentions?’ I said, ‘I want to save it,’ and they’re like, ‘Thank God!’ ” he recalled.

Despite his eagerness to take on the challenge, Mr. Redmond struggled to find anyone willing to invest in his venture. After being introduced to Anthony Russo of Russo Lending LLC, Mr. Redmond decided to take his potential financial backer to go see Longfield for himself.

“He looked at me and said, ‘Are you crazy?’ ” Mr. Redmond laughed.

But after he, too, spent two hours walking the property and allowing the historic structure to work its magic, Mr. Russo officially counted himself in. 

Then, and now

Built by notable architect Russell Warren around 1848, Longfield — known formally as the Charles Dana Gibson House — had at one point stood as a grand fixture on Hope Street, with its Gothic Revival-inspired architectural design and connection to the prominent DeWolf, Gibson and Knowlton families. 

Since 1972, though, when the house was added to the National Register of Historic Places, Longfield has changed hands so many times that it has become a ghost of what it once was. Dreams of transforming it into a bed and breakfast, wedding venue, and, most recently, back into a single-family home, were all shattered, the feat just too daunting.

Today, the house stands completely gutted, having sat vacant on the market now for six years. Glass broken from the windows — the result of continued trespassing on the property — is littered across the floor. Outside, the front porch is derelict, the yard wild and overgrown.

Yet, all things considered, Mr. Redmond considers himself lucky to get to work with its bare-bones foundation.

“Every time I look at the front porch, I shake my head — what am I doing?” he said. “But you fall in love with the potential and what’s here.”

Hints of former glory

Though a far cry from its heyday, hints of Longfield’s former glory do still exist: its grand, mahogany staircase, the near floor-to-ceiling windows, the original fireplaces, the sliding fly pocket doors with louvred shutters. A mill shop will be set up on-site to recreate some of its other notable features — like the decorative molding — that will help bring the house back to its historic value in 1972, and anything that can be saved, will be saved. Mr. Redmond becomes animated when he pictures the final layouts of the two new townhouses that could occupy the building; the high ceilings and sun-drenched rooms, the open floors that would be perfect for entertaining. 

“It’s just Gatsby-ous,” he said in wonder.

He and architect John Lusk are just as excited about their plans for the four new carriage-house-style buildings that would aesthetically play off of Longfield, taking hints from some of its more notable elements and coupling it with typical New England features.

Priding himself in sustainable design, Mr. Lusk’s final design concept mimics the feel of a New England town square while maintaining 50 percent open space that he feels would only be enhanced by a professional landscaping makeover.

After working and reworking the design, taking in notes from different boards, the end proposal is one that everyone involved feels proud of.

“In the context of the property, our project is a very good way to revitalize this building, to give more people the opportunity to live in the shadow of Longfield,” said Mr. Russo’s son, Tony. 

Leaving a legacy

After being in the industry since 1989, Mr. Redmond hopes that, as his career winds down, he can tackle projects that will leave a lasting impression long after he’s gone. It’s not just his legacy on the line, though; in the frenzy to save Longfield, he hopes to employ the help of local tradesmen and together, as a community, breathe new life into the long-neglected estate.

“No one’s getting rich on this project,” he said. “But, collectively, everybody can share the wealth in it, and it’s not just monetary wealth; it’s workmanship, it’s pride, it’s preservation.”

While there are still outstanding concerns over changes in traffic patterns (a study is already in the works) and the overall density of the site (“The precedent has been set, not only in the grid, but continually up Hope Street,” Mr. Redmond pointed out), he and his team hope that the zoning board will take into consideration the option to employ the never-been-used 283 ordinance that would allot more leeway in variances in order to preserve “irreplaceable cultural and historical resources” during its next hearing on Oct. 29.

No matter the decision that’s made that night, Mr. Redmond has a feeling that, either way, it will have a lasting impact on Bristol.

“No one’s going to remember that board after the decision’s going to be made,” he reasoned. “They’re going to remember that Longfield was lost. They’re going to remember 100 years from now that Longfield was saved.”

As he stepped back out onto the front lawn, the sun now peaking through the sky, Mr. Redmond appeared to feel good about his team’s chances.

“What do you think, John? Are we going to save it?” he asked.

He didn’t wait for Mr. Lusk to respond as he turned back to face Longfield.

“I think we’re going to save it.”