The house was built back when most people owned only two outfits: work clothes and church clothes. Walk-in closets? Forget it. You'd be more likely to find a sunken Jacuzzi.

But the lack of closet space didn't stop Alan Barnett from pursuing his dream. For several years, he kept his eye on the 1877 two-story, hoping that one day he'd be able to unpack his books, his antiques, his work clothes and his church clothes, and move in.

Eight years ago, when a "For Sale" sign went up out front, he pounced. Never mind that the house's golden brick was covered with aluminum siding, the chimneys had crumbled and the interior had been cut up to make three apartments.

"This is the only house of this style in Salt Lake City that I know of," says Alan, 41. "I knew immediately that I wanted to restore it and bring back its character."

Consider it a "This Old House" episode that lasts, oh, 20 years. Since starting the renovation, Alan has been confined to two downstairs rooms. Scaffolding takes up much of the living room, the ceiling and carpets have been torn up and a claw-footed bathtub sits just inside the entryway.

Hoping to share the importance of holding onto the city's historic buildings, Alan, who works as a state archivist and teaches classes about historic home research, recently joined me at his home for a Free Lunch of Chinese takeout.

Located next to the freeway on Salt Lake City's west side, it seems an unlikely place to find one of the city's most unique historic homes. But in 1877, when Thomas and Mary Hepworth built the house, the area was one of Salt Lake City's up-and-coming neighborhoods.

Alan points to an old photograph of the house, commanding attention on the iron fireplace mantel. After years of research, he tracked down a woman who had a historic snapshot of the place and was willing to share it.

"This photo is my blueprint of what I'm trying to achieve," he says. "It's what some would call an 'I' house because the style was really popular in 'I' states like Iowa and Indiana."

With a chimney on each end and a door in the middle that opened into a long hallway, "this used to be a fairly common style of home in Salt Lake City," says Alan. "But now, those places are gone, torn down to make room for businesses. This is about the only one left."

Ever since he was a kid, Alan has always preferred the old to the new. Growing up back East, he'd wander historic neighborhoods outside Washington, D.C., marveling at the architecture.

After moving to Utah, he received degrees in historic preservation and architecture, then found the perfect job: As a state archivist, he helps owners of historic property uncover the stories behind their unique dwellings.