We’ve now been in our house for six months, and in that time we never properly introduced you to Bart. That’s on us.
Bart—aka Black Bart, the woodstove insert—is hard to miss in our kitchen. The previous owners clearly used him a lot, and warned us he tended to make the house smoky and leave a fine black dust on nearby surfaces. We always intended to replace him eventually when we converted the fireplace into a double-sided unit that could be enjoyed from both the living room and the kitchen.
But our daughter Clara pushed us to act sooner. She’s obsessed with Bart, and the thought of a hot, three-decade-old wood-burning insert around a curious toddler made us uncomfortable. We never fired it up after moving in the middle of winter, yet Clara remained inexplicably drawn to its sharp metal edges. Redirecting her with toys, the dog, or ridiculous dance moves only worked so much. After she once managed to open the stove door and stick her hand into sooty metal before we could pull her away, Sherry and I decided enough was enough.
We considered childproofing options—locking the doors, adding foam to sharp edges, or building a barrier—but that felt like overkill for something we didn’t use and planned to replace. Inspired by a fireplace makeover we admired, we opted to remove Bart instead. Don’t worry—he won’t be trashed; more on that later.
I didn’t have much of a plan for removing the insert, and Google wasn’t much help, so while Clara napped I started pulling at things. The metal flashing around the sides pried away easily—surprising, given how attracted Clara had been to it. Underneath we found three pieces held lightly with a bit of glue that made the stove appear flush with the surrounding brick.
One tense moment came when I exposed some wires on the side and feared electrical work might be required. Fortunately they were just connected to a fan on the back of the unit, so I left everything attached and removed the whole assembly together.
Once all sides were revealed, the only obvious attachment was at the top, where the insert was bolted to a vent that ran into the chimney. I set to work removing those bolts. While most came free, one bolt head had deteriorated and was difficult for my wrench to grip. The tight space made the job trickier than expected; Sherry tried to help but her reach was limited as well.
After some persistence, ash-covered hands, and a few scraped knuckles, we got Bart detached from the vent. Getting him out of the fireplace was a workout—he was heavy—but we managed to shimmy him onto a piece of scrap cardboard so we could slide him clear of the hearth.
The transformation isn’t dramatic yet—the “after” actually looks a little rougher since the insert’s removal revealed stained brick and soot. I cleaned the firebox with warm water and mild soap to get rid of the worst of it, though some stubborn residue remained.
Sherry wanted to be the one to yank Bart out herself, so she made me handle the scrubbing while she took photos. The cleanup was messy, and I’m still chuckling about being photographed in my old high-school gym shorts—yes, they still fit… sort of.
For now, Bart lives in our dining room where Clara rarely ventures, waiting to be listed for sale or donated. We haven’t decided whether to try Craigslist or bring him to Habitat for Humanity ReStore.
Next up, we’ll give the firebox a fresh coat of dark charcoal paint to even out the stained brick. After that we’ll likely paint the brick and mantel—leaning toward a glossy bright white to contrast with colorful kitchen walls. Eventually we may tile the surround, beef up the mantel, or frame the fireplace up to the ceiling to add height. We’ll share each step as we go.
One last note: the metal flashing peeled off easily, but a gummy glue spot on the brick proved stubborn. Sherry carefully removed it with an X-Acto knife, scraping it away in small pieces—ninja-level precision required.
Have you removed a wood stove or fireplace insert before? Was the online guidance lacking? Do you have a child who’s oddly fascinated by a stove? We’d love to hear whether you think Bart is worth listing for sale or better off donated.
Psst—today we’re sharing a simple, affordable kid-art corner over on BabyCenter.