Small. Distinctive.

Yep, that's my version of a "Barbie dream house."

Exterior view of a small, blue house with a green entrance railing, surrounded by a garden with colorful flowers and decorative items. There is a small shed to the right and trees in the background.
Exterior view of a small, blue house with a green entrance railing, surrounded by a garden with colorful flowers and decorative items. There is a small shed to the right and trees in the background.

I'm obsessed.

These are "chicken coop houses," as they're colloquially known where I come from, in rural Iowa, near the town where these little wonders were produced in the 1920s–1950s as part of one company's enterprising foray into the manufacturing and distribution of prefabricated buildings through a network of regional “Builder-Dealers.”

People who live near them know of them instantly. They're polka-dotted across the Midwest — and who knows how much farther. They were shipped all over the continent.

They've never been formally documented or studied.

Until now.

OVERLOOKED UNDERDOGS, NO MORE
The back of a light blue house with a gabled roof, surrounded by trees with green leaves. Piles of trash and household items are placed outside near the house, including bags of trash, boxes, and a child's chair.

It’s time for these Kozy Homes to have their moment.

A small white house with two large front windows, a central door, and steps leading up to it. Surrounded by green grass and trees, with a black planter and a sign on the lawn.
A small, weathered house with peeling beige siding, black shutters, a white door, and a small porch with steps. The house is flanked by a lawn and trees.
Small beige house with a curved roof, two small windows with white shutters, an air conditioning unit, and a white door with steps, surrounded by green trees and grass.
A beige house with white trim, a small front porch, and a brown shingled roof. Two front windows, a door with a small window, and decorative outdoor items in the yard. Green trees in the background.

Fan Club President

A woman with long blonde hair, wearing glasses and a beige jacket over a pink shirt, sitting in a room with wooden ceilings and modern furniture. She has a thoughtful expression and is touching her collar.

I'm Nicky, and I'm out to find, document, and study a particular home design that has an undersized fan club. Consider this your invitation to join.

By day I'm a communications professional with about 15 years in the field, including nearly a decade at the Museum of Danish America, followed by stretches with three universities: Harvard, Johns Hopkins, and Iowa State.

Getting these homes the recognition they deserve is what pushed me to pursue a master's degree. The work pulls from my interests in local and agricultural history, design, rural sociology, historic preservation, vernacular architecture, and good old-fashioned ingenuity.

  • If any of those topic areas increased your heart rate, keep reading and checking back, kindred spirit.

Field Notes

Where to begin

Three generations of Thomas Godwins from Exira, Iowa, have tended a dream started by the entrepreneurial patriarch, Thomas Harry Godwin, a WWI veteran, parachute harness inventor, and, as reported by the Jefferson City Daily Capital News on June 8, 1919, "a fine specimen of American manhood."

He built the indispensable hardware of the day: wagons, hog houses, and chicken coops under the name G.F. Manufacturing Co.

Iowa farmers had been under pressure since the early 1920s. When the broader economy collapsed in the 1930s, Godwin began moving into people-housing. They produced a variety of prefab and custom home designs into the 1960s.

The company eventually became Kozy Manufacturing Company over the decades, but this product, the place, and the family behind it stayed the same.

A red and white advertisement for G.F. Wagon Boxes, featuring illustrations of single and double panel wagons with specifications for length, width, and height.

Yes, for real.

These houses began as chicken coops.

There is a kernel of truth in that derogatory, “chicken coop house” moniker.

BUT . . .

How did people end up living in repurposed chicken coops?

Who bought them, where, and why?

Why do they look like that?

What was it like living in them?

And what did the neighbors think?

Let's find out.

Let's find out.

I'm building a database and map of every Kozy in this signature "chicken coop" style. The great treasure hunt to find the rest is on. If you know of one, tell me about it. Architectural details, oral history, whatever you know.

Submit a Sighting
Submit a Sighting
A small, old, weathered house with peeling white paint and a boarded-up front door. Two windows are visible, and there is a "Posted No Trespassing" sign next to the door. The house is surrounded by overgrown grass and trees with fall foliage.

They may be a smidge undervalued.

Two photos of a small, white, weathered house with a curved roof, set next to large trees and utility poles. The house appears to be old and in disrepair, with overgrown vegetation around it.
Two photos of a small, white, weathered house with a curved roof, set next to large trees and utility poles. The house appears to be old and in disrepair, with overgrown vegetation around it.

The memories of those who experienced them in full glory are fading.

The people who built them are mostly gone.

The houses themselves are barely clinging to life.

The best time to do this was decades ago. The second-best time is now.