Old Houses Are Better. I Will Not Be Taking Questions.

A Grackle’s Guide to Giving an Old Austin House Another Hundred Years

I’ve been around Austin a while.

I’ve watched bungalows get bulldozed, McMansions sprout overnight, and perfectly good old houses painted entirely gray for reasons no bird or man can adequately explain.

So when it comes to old houses, I have opinions.

Historic homes are weird. The floors lean. The doors stick. There’s usually at least one light switch that appears to control absolutely nothing. And somewhere under six coats of landlord-white paint is probably a piece of beautiful old woodwork begging for mercy.

That’s also what makes them great.

And if you’re thinking about turning an old Austin house into a rental, there’s money to be made—but only if you resist the urge to renovate all the personality out of it.

First: Figure Out What You’ve Got

Before you start swinging a hammer around like some kind of HGTV lunatic, look at the house.

Really look at it.

Old Austin homes often have things you simply don’t get in newer construction: longleaf pine floors, old-growth trim, built-ins, strange little windows, transoms, clawfoot tubs, fireplaces, porches actually designed for sitting on, and rooms that existed before someone decided every house needed to be one enormous kitchen.

Those things have value.

People will pay to live somewhere interesting.

They will not pay extra because you replaced a 90-year-old wood door with something hollow from aisle 14 at Home Depot.

Know Your Neighborhood

Not every old house should become the same kind of rental.

A little bungalow near restaurants, bars, and downtown may appeal to someone completely different than a big old family house on a quiet street.

Look at what comparable homes actually rent for. Look at who lives nearby. Look at what people like about the neighborhood.

And for the love of shiny objects, don't convince yourself your house is worth $1,000 more a month because you installed a pot filler.

The market does not care about your pot filler.

Fix the Boring Stuff

This is the part nobody photographs.

Electrical.

Plumbing.

HVAC.

Drainage.

Foundation.

Insulation.

The roof.

These are not sexy renovations. Nobody has ever walked into a rental and whispered, “My God... is that a properly sized electrical panel?”

But these are the things that keep an old house functioning.

Spend money here first.

A gorgeous 1920s bathroom doesn't mean much when sewage is coming up through the tub.

Ask me how I know.

Actually, don't.

Don't Murder the House

Renovating an old home requires restraint.

If the floors can be refinished, refinish them.

If the trim can be repaired, repair it.

If the old windows can reasonably be restored, consider restoring them.

If there’s an original fireplace, built-in cabinet, stained-glass window, or strange little architectural detail that makes absolutely no practical sense—excellent.

Keep it.

That weird stuff is the house.

You can add modern conveniences without making the place look like a suburban dentist's office.

A good renovation should leave people wondering what's original and what's new.

Yes, You Still Have to Modernize It

Preservation does not mean forcing your tenants to live like Calvin Coolidge.

People enjoy air conditioning.

They enjoy grounded electrical outlets.

They enjoy showers with water pressure stronger than a grieving Victorian widow's tears.

Update kitchens. Update bathrooms. Improve insulation. Make the electrical system safe. Deal with ancient plumbing. Add efficient mechanical systems where appropriate.

Just make those improvements work with the house.

The goal isn't to freeze the property in 1927.

The goal is to let a 1927 house comfortably survive 2027.

Austin Has Rules

Now we arrive at everyone's favorite part of real estate:

Municipal regulations.

If your property is actually historic, historically designated, or located in a historic district, there may be restrictions on what you can change.

There are also zoning rules, building codes, permits, rental requirements, and—depending on what you're planning to do with the property—possibly additional regulations.

Find out before construction starts.

The City tends to prefer this approach.

I personally do not recognize municipal authority because I am a bird.

You, unfortunately, are probably going to need a permit.

When You Market It, Market the Story

Once the house is ready to rent, don't describe it like every apartment listing written since 2003.

“Charming 3BR/2BA conveniently located near amenities.”

Absolutely riveting.

Tell people what makes the house interesting.

Talk about when it was built. Show the original floors. Photograph the fireplace. Mention the neighborhood. Show the porch in the evening. Tell people about the renovation and what you deliberately preserved.

You're not competing with new construction on sameness.

You're competing on character.

So show the character.

And Please Take Decent Photographs

I cannot emphasize this enough.

You just spent months restoring a beautiful old Austin house and now you're going to photograph it vertically with your phone at 10:47 p.m.?

No.

Open the curtains. Turn on the lights. Clean the place. Get a wide lens. Photograph the architectural details.

Better yet, hire someone who knows what they're doing.

I have seen Zillow listings that constitute crimes against photography.

Price the House You Actually Own

Historic charm has value.

But charm is not a substitute for reality.

Look at comparable rentals. Consider the neighborhood, size, condition, parking, outdoor space, amenities, and quality of the renovation.

A thoughtfully restored historic property may command a premium because it's genuinely different from everything else on the market.

But there's a fine line between “premium” and “the owner has lost his mind.”

Know which side you're on.

Then Find Someone Who Won't Destroy It

Tenant screening matters with every rental, but especially with a property you've put serious work into.

Check rental history. Verify income. Check references. Follow fair-housing laws and use consistent screening criteria.

You're looking for someone who can afford the property, has a history of being a responsible tenant, and ideally understands that a 100-year-old house occasionally behaves like a 100-year-old house.

Old homes require a little patience.

They creak.

They move.

They occasionally produce noises for which there is no satisfying explanation.

That's part of the deal.

The Point

A good historic renovation isn't about making an old house new.

It's about making an old house good again.

Keep the craftsmanship. Fix the systems. Add the comforts people expect. Respect the neighborhood. Don't replace something beautiful just because replacing it is easier than repairing it.

Do that well and you end up with something increasingly rare in Austin:

A house with a past that still has a future.

And yes, it can make money too.

Now if you'll excuse me, someone left half a breakfast taco in the H-E-B parking lot.

— The Grackle