Back in 1999, when Scott Spear first laid eyes on his 1950s-era Sarasota home, it was anything but glamorous. Actually, “it was really ugly,” he says. “It had pink lemonade shag carpet, cheap Baroque-style plastic furniture and paneling covering the sliding doors.” Yet, for Spear, a former museum conservator with a love of anything midcentury, the house had one irresistible quality: potential. 

Built in 1956 in the Southgate neighborhood, the 1,750-square-foot, three-bedroom, two-bathroom home had been a neglected vacation cottage for a New Jersey family. For Spear, 66, now its third owner, it was an opportunity to celebrate the design language of midcentury modernism. Today, 25 years after purchasing the home for $86,500, it’s a time capsule that Spear wants to pass on to another aficionado.

Last year, after hurricanes razed Paul Rudolph’s much-lauded Sanderling cabanas and some of the Lido Shores homes slated for Architecture Sarasota’s annual MOD Weekend home tours, Spear’s house rose to the occasion and was included in the tour thanks to its well-preserved midcentury look. Spear’s background as a
conservator informed his approach.

“I used museum conservation techniques to bring the house back to its glory years,” he says. Every decision was guided by a desire for authenticity. “If it wasn’t original, I didn’t go for it,” he says.

The kitchen, the centerpiece of the home, boasts a restored 1949 refrigerator that Spear found on the back of a junk truck for $50. “It was working when I got it, and it still works today. I just had it painted,” he says. The original stainless steel appliances and the dark gray linoleum countertops, with a scrawled pink and white triangle pattern, are all original, hearkening back to a time before quartz took over. Even the turquoise and salmon tiles in the bathroom have been left untouched, a vivid nod to the home’s original palette.

Spear’s journey to Sarasota began nearly 47 years ago, when he moved from North Carolina to attend Ringling College of Art and Design. After earning a degree in illustration—at a bargain tuition of $800 per semester—he built a mix of careers that included stints in museum conservation, graphic design and marketing. Today he serves as the marketing director for Sarasota Glass.

“I’ve always had a good eye for design,” he says. “In fact, my first job out of art school was at Kane’s Furniture, where I learned interior design almost by accident.”

His sensibility is on display in the home’s eclectic furnishings, much of which Spear scavenged from retro shops and antique stores. “I used to run up to St. Pete when Central Avenue was full of retro shops,” he says. “The grubbier locales often have the best treasures because they’re overlooked.”

His collection includes everything from leopard-print Natuzzi chairs to turquoise Blue Heaven dinnerware, a collector favorite that Spear sourced piece by piece on eBay. The drapes in the kitchen feature a boomerang pattern fabric once used in Disney’s Tomorrowland that are also echoed on the bathroom wallpaper, where original boomerang-shaped ashtrays hang on the wall. The home’s Ocala block construction—a signature feature of midcentury Florida homes—has also been maintained, as has the birch paneling and cypress tongue-and-groove ceiling.

Beyond aesthetics, the home also served as a private museum for Spear’s collection of vintage robot and astronaut figures, a passion inspired by his childhood fascination with the Space Age. “At one point, I had about 500 robots and six life-sized ones,” he says. “They’ve since been sold, some to [popular ventriloquist and comedian] Jeff Dunham, but this house was their home for years.”

Spear hopes the next owner will cherish the home like he has. “I wouldn’t be happy with a demo, but that’s common in this town now,” he says. To safeguard the home’s legacy, he’s considering designating it as a historic property. “If it doesn’t sell to someone who appreciates the era, I’ll work with Architecture Sarasota to ensure it’s preserved,” he says.

Every corner of the house tells a story. “The overall sense of optimism in the 1950s resonates with me,” Spear says. “It was a time when we were going to the moon and the future looked bright. This house captures that spirit.”

As he prepares to say goodbye to the house, Spear reflects on what he’ll miss most. “The colors, the materials, the style—everything used to be so playful and full of hope,” he says. “Now it’s all gray and black and boring. This house is a reminder of what we can create when we dream.”