The Strangest House in Fremantle
My first reaction was fear. This menacing, concrete structure looms over the surrounding suburban streets, its pennants can be seen from afar. The effect of the painstakingly painted signs was at first overwhelming, they were almost impossible to read, such was my discomposure. I was terrified that the man behind it was peering at me out of one of his many windows, perhaps pointing a rifle.

Ignoring all the signs (a fairly impossible task, but try) – who would live in a house like that? It is not a structure I could call home. I would be more inclined to call a large cardboard box home than this building, reminiscent of a storage facility for government documents.

The concise reason for the signs is that Mr Ter Horst, the man responsible for all this, sold the block of land next door to someone who built a house on it that marginally overstepped council restrictions. Mr Ter Horst refused to hand over the title to the land, was placed in jail for 91 days for contempt of court, during which time he went on a hunger strike to protest his case. Upon his release, I can only assume he went out and bought a lot of cans of black, white and red paint.

The effect of all this text is breathtaking. It glares at you, it is difficult to focus on any one sign. The words stab out at you, a ‘scandal' collides with your forehead, then “victims” whizzes past your ear, before “no more freedom of speech” marches past you, as defiant as a freight train.

Whilst we were staying nearby, we made it a habit to do regular drive-bys of the house. My greatest desire was to see Mr Ter Horst himself in the driveway, about to get into his car (which has a slogan-painted coffin mounted on the top), or hanging out a new sign. One day, a black figure had been hung from the roof, with a noose around its neck, painted with the word “Whistleblower”. We wondered if this was in response to the article published about him that we found in a publication of this name. It contained the tantalising detail that Mr Ter Horst lives amongst piles of papers relating to his court cases, all the furniture and household effects having been taken by his wife when she left him.

I liked the fact I was staying at a place that had a madman on the hill. Tim had described his house to me before, how it had signs all over it and looked menacing. I was cautious when I envisaged it, for usually when somebody describes a strange house, my imagination is too wild, and I am disappointed. This house, though, was stranger than even I could have anticipated.