beamsoverhead,it givesyoua senseofstability.”
Durkin,a trim66-year-old,hasthelongface
andpatricianmannerofJohnKerry.Butone
ofhisclients—anda cyclingbuddy—isKerry’s
onetimeopponent,GeorgeW.Bush.In2009,
Heritagetooka chestnutEnglishbarnframebuilt
in 1750 fromMiddletown,N.Y.,andtoppedit with
a corrugatedmetalroofandsidingforitsfuture
asa guesthouseontheBushes’Crawfordranch.
DurkingrewupCatholicinanoldNewJersey
family.Helovedskiingathisparents’vacation
homeintheCatskillsanddiggingforarrow-
headsandoldcoinsinthewoods.Byearlyadult-
hoodhewasbornagainasa nondenominational
Christianandquitgraduateschool,wherehe
hadbeendoingresearchata pathologylab.
HeeventuallymovedtoTexasandopeneda
workshopforantiquewoodenfurniturerepro-
ductions.Atonepointinthelate’90s,whenit
neededa showroom,Durkinthoughttobuild
it fromwoodsalvagedfromanhistoricbarn.
Oneshopperwasenchantedbythespaceand
inquiredabouthowtogeta housewitha similar
open-beamedfeel.A barnbusinesswasborn.
Today, Durkin runs the company with
millennial-age business partners Matt Brandstadt
and Caleb Tittley. It grosses $2.5 million annu-
ally and is profitable—but not a fortune maker.
Heritage pays barn owners in the low five figures
for their structures, purchasing many on spec
with the hopes of finding a future client. The dis-
mantling itself costs about $20,000, Durkin says.
Beyond shipping, labor, and design, expenses
include hiring the Cornell Tree Ring Lab to pre-
cisely date a barn based on a wood sample.
Once moved, the structures are frequently
modified creatively, like when Heritage built a glassy, lux-
urious pool house from the bones of a simple toolshed in
Sharon, Conn. Another project, outside St. Louis, combined
six outbuildings to create a 14,000-square-foot home, with a
single bedroom. Occasionally the barns are used on actual
farms, as for the supermarket-wine Gallo family, who com-
missioned a restoration in California for their horses.
Late-night host Jimmy Fallon had a relatively modern barn
on his getaway estate in the Hamptons but wanted something
more impressive. The existing structure was supported by
6-by-6-inch beams, so Durkin’s team found a heavy Canadian
barn of the same size but with 12-by-12-inch elm beams to
undertake a tricky barn-within-a-barn rebuild—tearing down
the old frame at the same time they erected the new one.
They also left room to place a tree indoors, in the middle of
the barn, winding a spiral staircase around it with spindles
and rails made from the branches.
Most barns get cleaned out, taken apart, and shipped to
the company’s workshop in Big Timber, Mont., where a teamofeightcraftsmenfumigatesandreconditions
every beam. They ship every labeled piece
together to their destination, where they’re
reassembled into something new. The exterior
wood is often sold for other projects—most cli-
ents are looking for a rustic interior, not a leaky
old shell. Insulation is hidden in the new struc-
tures, and roofs are added of copper, metal,
slate, tile, or thatch. Even with shipping, which
Durkin figures would happen for new construc-
tion, too, he considers the work sustainable,
calling it “the ultimate recycling.”
Like Durkin, buyers gravitate toward the
grand 18th century Dutch barns that tend to
come from New York and New Jersey. From
the outside, they’re tall and peak-roofed, with
bends in the roofline on each side where live-
stock stalls were placed. Step into one, with its
impressive 30-foot-high central nave and side
aisles, and you might have the feeling of enter-
ing a church. It isn’t coincidental: Many Dutch
barns were built on a basilica-style plan.
Walking through the Zinssars’ barn before
the deconstruction begins, Durkin points out
the design details. “You’d stack sheaves of
grain up here,” he says, signaling the rafters
with a laser pointer. “But when this is emptied
out, it’s like a cathedral.”
That day, local laborers Steve Swift, Brandi
Swift, and Tyler Nark were cleaning piles of
abandoned detritus that showed how time had
lapsed: lawn mowers, tractor parts, bicycles,
carriage harnesses. “I’ve got the world record
for taking down the most Dutch barns,” says
Steve, who dismantled his first in 1981. “It’ll
never be broken, because there aren’t that
many left.” An estimated 700 barns in this style remain.
Durkin started out finding them by “literally beating the
bush, getting chased by dogs,” he says. These days he and
Swift cruise Google Earth and post “We Buy Barns” signs
at intersections.
Not everyone cheerleads the work. Preservationist Greg
Huber of Eastern Barn Consultants avoids mentioning Durkin
by name, referring instead to “a so-called person who moves
barns to Texas.” A Pennsylvania-based former biologist and
tree lover turned historian and barn expert, Huber visited
610 barns before editing the latest edition of the book The
New World Dutch Barn: The Evolution, Forms, and Structure
of a Disappearing Icon.
“They have a soul and an aura,” Huber says. “If you’re
going to take a barn out of its historic context, it would be
good to [save records] so that information is not lost forever.”
Durkin argues that moving barns beats leaving them to
rot. “They belong in place, they belong local—but they don’t
belong in the landfill,” he says. “We’re the next best thing.” <BW>63GOIN’ COUNTRY! (^) HOW TO TAKE March 23, 2020
DOWN AND REBUILD
A BARN
- Clean out building.
- Document everything
with photographs and
measurements. Number
the beams. - Starting at the peak,
peel roof off. - Take down rafters.
- Carefully strip off
exterior siding. - Lift off the “plates”—
or longest 40-to-50-
footbeamsthatcap
thewallposts—by
unpegging them. - Take down the
“bents”—wall beams—
that frame the barn. - Pry up and save
the floor, including
the “sills”—the heavy
beams underneath. - Ship all materials
on a flatbed truck to a
workshop. - Wash the wood.
- Replace or repair any
missing or damaged
partswithmatching
periodwood.
12.Recutanymissing
jointsandtest-
assemblethem.
13.Fumigateall
materialsagainst
insects.
14.Shipthematerials
to be rebuilt in their
new home.
COURTESY HERITAGE RESTORATIONS