Photo by Richard Guerra.
Candice White lives in a home shrouded in mystery that even the most dedicated historians are unable to solve. And they have tried.
White’s home at 1934 Lansford Ave. has long been rumored to have been a convent, a railroad storage depot, a casino and a speakeasy that served as a stomping ground for Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow.
Evidence for some of those claims exist, White says, but most of the rumors surrounding the house have never been substantiated.
The home was the first house built in Elmwood, around the year 1900, White says. Lansford Avenue didn’t exist then, and the house faced the current backyard, overlooking a creek and the surrounding dairy farms.
For a time, the Spanish mission style of the house led people to believe that it was built as a convent by the Catholic Archdiocese of Dallas. But the archdiocese public records make no mention of the home, which was half its current size when originally built.
White has her own theory about the original tenants of the home.
“I think it was probably a house of prostitution,” she says.
Evidence of the home’s history did emerge when White and her former husband renovated the 2,100-square-foot house after purchasing it in 2000.
“When we renovated it, we took out the old carpet that was there, and there were (poker chips) on the floor, so we do know it was a casino,” White says.
To the side of the master bedroom is a cupola tower, which had a low ceiling installed and was used as a changing room by previous owners.
When White was renovating the home she asked contractors to remove the ceiling and found a perfectly intact brick lookout with windows that can be seen from the outside of the house.
“There was a bridge that went over the creek from what is now Elmwood,” White says. “(The previous owner) said people would come that way into the house, and they used to shine a light up to the cistern to see whether the speakeasy was open or not.”
Another confusing twist in 1934 Lansford’s history is tax records, which show the home was built in the 1970s.
According to White, records became convoluted in the ’70s after the home was scheduled for demolition but was saved by a couple — the Vaughns — who were in search of an old home to remodel.
“There it sat,” Wendell Vaughn told The Dallas Times Herald in October 1973. “The most run-down looking edifice you ever saw.”
The Times Herald article describes neighbors viewing the house as a “monstrosity” prior to the Vaughn renovation and tells stories of ghosts on the property.
Despite the storied past lives of 1934 Lansford, White says she doesn’t feel as though she is walking among ghosts.
“We love it here. It’s just safe and beautiful, and everyone who comes here goes, ‘Oh my gosh, this is the most interesting house I’ve ever seen,’” White says. “But it’s just home to us.”
