Montebrier – what an odd name and yet it is the name of the house my sister and I grew up in. It was originally built in the 1850s and had been through a long life. In 1964, it’s worn conditions didn’t create love at first sight for most people (including some of our family), but for us, it was history waiting to be renovated. It could’ve felt sad, forgotten even — but to our father, it was project and his dream to own the house. I still remember the first time I stepped through the door: Grass pushing up through the floorboards; The roof sagging and leaking, and Plaster peeling from the walls like old wallpaper.
I learned later that in the 1920s, the house had been turned into a speakeasy. There was one grand room, open and echoing — what people today might call an “open floor plan.” Back then, it was a dance room where our Grandfather Red Mahan called square dances. People from Montevallo took the train down to enjoy a night of dancing and drinking, as it was Prohibition Period in our history. For me, that same floor soon became my skating rink! The floor starts in a square pattern and continues out the length of the room.
My sister and I had a wonderful childhood in that house. We each had our own beautiful bedroom and many places to hide and play. And yes — we even had a ghost, though luckily a friendly one. Outside, there was a lake where we learned to shoot cans and a creek where we fished and we both spent our summer days enjoying riding horses at Montebrier.
My sister and I had a wonderful childhood in that house. We each had our own beautiful bedroom and many places to hide and play. And yes — we even had a ghost, though luckily a friendly one. Outside, there was a lake where we learned to shoot cans and a creek where we fished and we both spent our summer days enjoying riding horses at Montebrier.
Our parents, especially our father, poured their hearts into restoring Montebrier. There was always a new project underway, freshly discovered antiques waiting to be tucked into one of its rooms, and the neverending search for fragments of the home’s history. He had a gift for finding strange and wonderful treasures, and before long, the house was filled with stories — each item had a unique story from another time. There were always people coming and going: visitors were always curious about the house, parties filled with laughter, and quiet evenings that made Montebrier feel truly alive. As an adult it was the one place I could come and truly relax and de-stress.
After fifty years, we came to the hardest decision — to sell the house. Montebrier had been the backdrop of our entire lives, and letting go felt like closing the last chapter of childhood. Today it belongs to Joshua Roberto, who has lovingly turned it into Montebrier Estate, a wedding and event venue. He’s done beautiful renovations, honoring its age while giving it new life.
When my husband and I visited recently, Joshua welcomed us back home. As I walked through each room, the memories came rushing like a wave — the sound of roller skates, our laughter echoing through hallways, Dad’s voice calling across the porch, the sound of the train and all the social events; parties, concerts and weddings. And somehow, even after all these years, Montebrier still felt the same and for this I’m grateful.
Grateful that the home still breathes, still holds joy and celebration within its walls. I hope everyone who visits can sense the history woven into every board and room and feel — even just for a moment — the love that made Montebrier such a special place. – Miki Mahan Heaton
