Faison’s historic Hicks House, located on West Main Street, features elements of Greek Revival and Italianate styling. It was purchased by Mike and Lissa Stempek in 2020 and underwent renovation and new construction for almost three years. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

Faison’s historic Hicks House, located on West Main Street, features elements of Greek Revival and Italianate styling. It was purchased by Mike and Lissa Stempek in 2020 and underwent renovation and new construction for almost three years. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>From their front porch on West Main Street., Mike and Lissa Stempek enjoy watching the comings and goings in Faison. They moved here from Nahant, Massachusetts in 2020. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

From their front porch on West Main Street., Mike and Lissa Stempek enjoy watching the comings and goings in Faison. They moved here from Nahant, Massachusetts in 2020. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Many of the items in Mike and Lissa Stempek’s home are family pieces that have been passed down. This toolbox was built and used by Mike’s grandfather and ‘was pretty beat up’ by the time it came into Mike’s possession, so he repaired and refinished it while in college. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Many of the items in Mike and Lissa Stempek’s home are family pieces that have been passed down. This toolbox was built and used by Mike’s grandfather and ‘was pretty beat up’ by the time it came into Mike’s possession, so he repaired and refinished it while in college. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>This corner of the Stempeks’ living room hints at what can be found throughout their home — lots of antiques and artwork. Although they refinished the floors in the rest of the house, they purposefully left the living room floor untouched, thereby leaving a history lesson intact: When the house was built, cheap paint was used in the center of the floor (an area that would be covered by a rug), while more expensive paint was used around the perimeter. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

This corner of the Stempeks’ living room hints at what can be found throughout their home — lots of antiques and artwork. Although they refinished the floors in the rest of the house, they purposefully left the living room floor untouched, thereby leaving a history lesson intact: When the house was built, cheap paint was used in the center of the floor (an area that would be covered by a rug), while more expensive paint was used around the perimeter. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Lissa Stempek demonstrates the painstaking process (which involved rolling a piece of sandpaper into the shape of a rope) used by a worker to uncover the beautiful pine wood of this newel post. The post, handrail, and stairs had been painted brown by a previous owner. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Lissa Stempek demonstrates the painstaking process (which involved rolling a piece of sandpaper into the shape of a rope) used by a worker to uncover the beautiful pine wood of this newel post. The post, handrail, and stairs had been painted brown by a previous owner. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>The countertops in the Stempeks’ kitchen are made of Azul Bahia, a rare blue granite that is quarried in only one place in the world, Bahia, Brazil. A ‘waterfall’ design element can be seen on the island, where the horizontal surface is carried over vertically to the floor. This technique can be used with any type and color of stone, but it’s particularly striking here, as the blue color and natural veining mimic an actual waterfall. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

The countertops in the Stempeks’ kitchen are made of Azul Bahia, a rare blue granite that is quarried in only one place in the world, Bahia, Brazil. A ‘waterfall’ design element can be seen on the island, where the horizontal surface is carried over vertically to the floor. This technique can be used with any type and color of stone, but it’s particularly striking here, as the blue color and natural veining mimic an actual waterfall. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Lissa and Mike Stempek had this light fixture in the breakfast nook specially made by Lexington Glassworks in Asheville. They chose the colors to complement the Azul Bahia granite in the kitchen, and the size was determined by the length of the table over which it is mounted. Because of its weight, the ceiling had to be reinforced to hold the fixture. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Lissa and Mike Stempek had this light fixture in the breakfast nook specially made by Lexington Glassworks in Asheville. They chose the colors to complement the Azul Bahia granite in the kitchen, and the size was determined by the length of the table over which it is mounted. Because of its weight, the ceiling had to be reinforced to hold the fixture. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Lissa Stempek loves whimsy, even when it comes in small touches. She and Mike noticed artist Beth Hill’s paintings on display at Ribeye’s in Mount Olive and commissioned her to do three paintings paying tribute to the area’s agricultural heritage. In this one, Hill obliged Lissa’s request to make the cow’s eyelashes particularly fetching. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Lissa Stempek loves whimsy, even when it comes in small touches. She and Mike noticed artist Beth Hill’s paintings on display at Ribeye’s in Mount Olive and commissioned her to do three paintings paying tribute to the area’s agricultural heritage. In this one, Hill obliged Lissa’s request to make the cow’s eyelashes particularly fetching. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Mike Stempek describes this piece as ‘one of my treasures.’ He purchased it while in Kathmandu. It’s called a mandala, and it took a monk six months to paint it using a single yak hair. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Mike Stempek describes this piece as ‘one of my treasures.’ He purchased it while in Kathmandu. It’s called a mandala, and it took a monk six months to paint it using a single yak hair. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Mike Stempek points out old cartoons that were glued to the back of this closet door many decades ago; it’s a part of the house’s history that the Stempeks chose to leave intact. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Mike Stempek points out old cartoons that were glued to the back of this closet door many decades ago; it’s a part of the house’s history that the Stempeks chose to leave intact. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>This bed and chair, now located in the guest room, were left in the house by the previous owner, who included numerous antiques in the sale. Unbeknownst to the Stempeks, the back of the headboard was covered with mold and mildew, causing Lissa to become very sick when she slept in the bed during a visit prior to moving in. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

This bed and chair, now located in the guest room, were left in the house by the previous owner, who included numerous antiques in the sale. Unbeknownst to the Stempeks, the back of the headboard was covered with mold and mildew, causing Lissa to become very sick when she slept in the bed during a visit prior to moving in. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Mike Stempek, an assistant Scout Master of Faison’s Troop 48, collects Scouting patches that are then framed and displayed in the upstairs hallway. Lissa likes this unusual display because it’s both whimsical and colorful. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Mike Stempek, an assistant Scout Master of Faison’s Troop 48, collects Scouting patches that are then framed and displayed in the upstairs hallway. Lissa likes this unusual display because it’s both whimsical and colorful. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Lissa Stempek holds a bowl that has special meaning: Mike purchased it for her and held it in his lap to protect it during his long flight home from Fiji, where an artisan had hand-turned it from a log that had washed ahore. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Lissa Stempek holds a bowl that has special meaning: Mike purchased it for her and held it in his lap to protect it during his long flight home from Fiji, where an artisan had hand-turned it from a log that had washed ahore. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>Lissa Stempek spends lots of time in her spacious craft room, where she especially enjoys making wreaths and greeting cards. She made the brightly colored wreath on the counter using ribbons from Dollar Tree. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

Lissa Stempek spends lots of time in her spacious craft room, where she especially enjoys making wreaths and greeting cards. She made the brightly colored wreath on the counter using ribbons from Dollar Tree. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

<p>For the master bedroom, Lissa Stempek tapped Robyn Porter, in Australia, to make the quilt, using jewel-toned fabrics designed by renowned textile artist Kaffe Fassett. Lissa herself made the complementary wreaths hanging on a screen behind the bed. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)</p>

For the master bedroom, Lissa Stempek tapped Robyn Porter, in Australia, to make the quilt, using jewel-toned fabrics designed by renowned textile artist Kaffe Fassett. Lissa herself made the complementary wreaths hanging on a screen behind the bed. (Kathy Grant Westbrook|mountolivetribune.com)

FAISON — Everything in the town’s historic Hicks House has a story. Everything. There are a thousand little stories that blend and mix and melt into one another to tell the larger story of the house and its owners, Lissa and Mike Stempek, two born-and-bred New Englanders who had every intention of staying in the northeast until Craigslist threw them a curveball, pointing them south, to an old house that captured their imaginations and a small town that captured their hearts.

Let’s start with the curveball: Then living in the island town of Nahant, Massachusetts, the Stempeks decided it was time to find the house where they would retire, and Mike began searching on Craigslist New Hampshire, where he immediately saw a house that piqued his interest. The catch: It was nowhere near their beloved New England; it was in a tiny North Carolina town they’d never heard of: Faison.

The unexpected location wasn’t a dealbreaker for the Stempeks. After all, the idea of retiring in the south wasn’t foreign to Mike, whose parents had retired to Myrtle Beach. And Lissa had a sister who lived in Fayetteville, with whom she envisioned celebrating birthdays and holidays after many years of not being able to do so. (Her sister has since moved to Richmond, for which, Lissa jokingly says, “I still haven’t forgiven her.”)

But it was the house, itself, that sealed the deal. Built by Walter Livingston Hicks between 1880 and 1883, with Greek Revival and Italianate styling, it came chock full of history and potential.

The house’s history unfolded before them, as first one person and then another shared his or her memories. “Everybody knows little snippets about it,” Mike says.

A previous resident of the house, Inga Flake — who lived here with her husband, former Faison Mayor Elmer Flake — visited and reminisced, pointing out, for example, that her grandmother used to seek shelter in the closet beneath the stairway when a tornado or hurricane threatened.

The Stempeks’ living room once served as Mayor Flake’s office, and “some days I can get a little bit of a cigarette or cigar smell, so you can just see the old guys kicking back and having a cigar,” Mike notes.

If only every aspect of dealing with an old house was as pleasant as learning its history.

Shortly after purchasing the house, Lissa flew down for a one-week visit in March 2020 to assess it more thoroughly prior to moving in. Unfortunately, she arrived in Faison at about the same time Covid began rearing its ugly head, thus hampering her plans for a quick return to Nahant. During her longer-than-planned stay, she was exposed to mold and mildew in the house, triggering her asthma; eventually she wound up with a bad case of pneumonia. Her intended one-week visit stretched into two months — during which time Faison residents, whom she’d barely met, stepped up to help care for her, dropping off food and other necessities on her doorstep. It was her first real introduction to southern hospitality.

More challenges awaited the Stempeks. After the back portion of the house was torn off to make way for a new addition, Lissa and Mike — now living in their historic home — spent almost three years with upstairs-only access to running water and a bathroom, and their only hint of a kitchen was the coffeemaker, small microwave, and dorm refrigerator they installed in an upstairs bedroom. (They became experts on local food fare, of both the restaurant and gas station varieties.)

When the new, two-story addition was at last unveiled, it proved worth the wait, as it blends seamlessly with the original part of the house. Upstairs, besides housing a new master-suite bathroom, it’s also home to Lissa’s craft room, where she spends a lot of time making wreaths and greeting cards. Downstairs, it houses a kitchen and breakfast nook, as well as an enclosed back porch with a hot tub.

The most eye-catching feature of the new kitchen is the countertop material, Azul Bahia granite, a rare stone of intense blue color that is quarried at only one site in the world, Bahia, Brazil. The beauty of the stone is particularly on display on the kitchen’s island, where a “waterfall” design element was used, meaning the horizontal island top continues over the edge, dropping vertically to the floor, creating a waterfall-type effect. This technique can be used with any type or color of stone, but the effect in the Stempeks’ kitchen is uniquely striking, as the blue color and natural veining of the Azul Bahia granite actually do approximate the look of a waterfall.

When attempting to describe the house’s overall character, it’s hard to know what to focus on. Perhaps it should be its historic charm, as exemplified by the 11-foot ceilings and antique furnishings. Or maybe it ought to be the ultra-modern conveniences — a state-of-the-art elevator, a remote-controlled shower, and rods in the master closet that lower electronically so Lissa can reach her clothes.

But, no. Walking through the house, most of the stories seem to emerge from the Stempeks’ vast collection of art in its many forms and styles. In fact, they’ve filled their home with such an extensive and varied collection that it feels museum-like, but without the fussiness. “Art is good for your soul,” Mike says.

In a glass-front hutch sits a wooden bowl, hand-turned by a Fiji artisan from a log that washed ashore; Mike purchased the bowl for Lissa and held it in his lap during the long flight home to protect it from damage. Above the fireplace in the den, there is a family tree, representing Lissa and Mike’s blended family at the time they married in 1997; it’s made of woven strips of multi-colored, handmade paper, specially crafted for them by a woman they met at a craft fair.

Perhaps what is most impressive about their collection is its lack of pretentiousness. True, they have pieces by professional artists, including a grouping of four enamel-on-copper pieces by French artist Louis Cardin and a playful, mixed media, limited-edition print by internationally acclaimed Norman Laliberte, who happened to live in Nahant. (“He was quite the character,” Lissa says, and to drive home the point, Mike adds, “He had hair like Einstein.”) But of equal importance are the pieces of more modest origin, like a painting Lissa purchased from Tufts Medical Center. Signed “Cristina,” it features flowers with missing or misshapen petals and was painted by a young girl with multiple sclerosis who lamented the fact that “nobody paints the imperfect flowers,” according to Lissa.

One of Mike’s favorite pieces is an intricate, circular design he purchased while in Kathmandu. “This is one of my treasures,” he says. “This is called a mandala. This was done by a monk with one single yak hair…it took him about six months to paint.” Mike points out that the mandala is more than a work of art; it represents a journey to enlightenment.

While some of their treasures are from far-flung places like Nepal and Fiji, Mike and Lissa have always enjoyed supporting local artists. One of their favored Nahant-based artists was Heather Goodwin. “She calls herself a sea hag,” says Lissa, “and she goes to the beaches and she takes stuff that’s washed up in the rocks” and she creates art from it. In their living room, the Stempeks have a small tree Goodwin fashioned from driftwood, and in Lissa’s craft room, she has a wreath the artist made from lobster rope.

Continuing their practice of championing local artists, Lissa and Mike commissioned Mount Olive artist Beth Hill, whose work they first saw on display at Ribeye’s, to do three paintings for them, all paying tribute to the area’s agricultural heritage: a pig, a cow, and a rooster. In her works, Hill incorporated two of Lissa’s favorite elements, whimsy (per Lissa’s request, she made the cow’s eyelashes particularly fetching) and texture (she placed actual straw underneath the painted straw on which the rooster is resting). All three paintings are displayed in the breakfast nook.

As much as Lissa and Mike love their historic house, they make it clear that they are equally enamored with Faison. “We love it! We absolutely love it!” insists Lissa. “It’s the people. All the people. We haven’t met anybody who hasn’t been outstanding.”

So much for retiring in New Hampshire. The Stempeks are very much at home in North Carolina.