# 'This Old Crack House'



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Introduction*










She never liked me.

I knew this.

Somehow I needed to talk her into selling me her house.

I had tried several times over the last three years to buy it from her. No luck with that.
I was tired of the constant traffic that stopped in front of the house. The cars would slowly approach the house - then suddenly someone would jump out of the car and run up the front porch and hand cash through the missing screen window.
It wasn't uncommon to see two police squad cars out in front of the house. We had been warned at our annual block party that that house was under surveillance for drug activity.
Imagine our surprise finding this out.
It was only a few months ago that right behind us, one of the largest teenage prostitution busts in recent years, had just occurred.
So much for the "stable, friendly, safe neighborhood" that the realtor who sold us our home had promised was the case.

I was always curious why there were different teenage girls mowing the lawn in mini skirts and stiletto high heels.

Now I know.

A murder, kidnapping, domestic assault, and numerous police visits to this house was all part of its history. Not to mention the Pit Bull that was staked out in the front yard.

Yet, I still dreamed of the day I could buy this house.

Besides overcoming all of these problems and the shortcomings that seemed to be in the way - there was one other major problem.

The city was trying to condemn it. This was confirmed with phone calls.

I couldn't let that happen. Something told me and tugged at me to prevent that happening.

It didn't.

In retrospect maybe the city should have just condemned it. There were many days I felt like this.

The next several blog entries' I hope to tell this story with pictures and in my own words, using my personal experiences to form the story that I am going to call, "This Old Crack House".

If you choose to read the story there will be a firsthand account of my struggles, setbacks, challenges, and a complete emotional breakdown following the death of my best shop Buddy -Spike lee - my male basset hound. Affectionately known as' "Bull".
It is in memory of him and my gratitude to many friends who stood by me every day -even when I wanted to quit - throw in the towel in and give up, that I write this story.

The reason I want to tell this story is simple.

With hindsight, there were times when I felt so overwhelmed -had I known better, maybe I should of just walked away and called it quits. However, it's my hope that if I can inspire even one person to follow their heart -dare them to chase an impossible dream - and do what they have been told they couldn't do but never thought they could, the story will have served its purpose.

I hope that you will at least be patience with me while telling my story. I feel like I need to tell it to begin my healing. I'm not a writer, just a simple humble man who loves woodworking.

That's all.

It's been a long three years.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 2-20-2007)


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Dusty, I for one want you to share your story with us. So far, it's an amazing story of how you didn't give up on your dream.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


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not a writer?? You have me hooked and waiting for the second chapter!!

thank you for sharing.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Dusy
Very good, I'll be waiting for chapter 2.


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## Frank (Nov 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Hi Dusty;
--great story you've got going here!

"She never liked me." 
"I knew this." 
"Some how I needed to talk her into selling me her house."

....you have set up the makings of a fine story here and in those first three sentences you have baited the hook, cast your line and set the hook. Keep this story coming, my ears are waiting to hear your word story!!!
GODSPEED,
Frank


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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The Picture you see isn't after I started the Demo. It is the actual picture of the bedroom in the basement of the elderly mother who can to live with the daughter who owned the house. This Picture was taken the night I first go to see the inside of the house….....

Enough said….... thats part of chapter two

a humble nod and thank you to all who are patience enough to read my long winded drible of my story and helping in begining in my healing of this long journey….


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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I have a question now. Maybe someone can help. I asked Martin and he said that is fine to post pictures of remodeling which are coming soon. I realize this picture isn't but its part of the story that will get us to that eventually. I hope this is the right place to post these pictures and to tell this story.

If not could some one tell me where I am to do this? And if I'm violating some rules I'm sorry and to tell me that and I will stop. Do I post the actual remodeling pictures here or under projects or?

Boy am I lost.


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## 2 (Feb 26, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Dusty, if you're writing series about the remodeling process it is great to post it as the entries in your blog (together with the pictures). And the finished project can definitely go to the projects section.

This is ideal scenario for LumberJocks - logging the progress on the project in the blog and then posting the final piece under the projects.

Thanks, Dusty - keep the chapters coming


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


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We've appreciated the after… now seeing the before, and hearing just a glimpse of the story, we appreciate the work you've put into it all the more. Maintaining and old house is one thing, Taking a house the city wants to tear down, and turning it into a showpiece that attracts tours and television, is something incredible!


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## Hawgnutz (Mar 29, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Dusty,
I got hooked on this story somewhere around chapter 20. Great story! So, now I return to the start for all the background. You seem to be an accomplished a writer as you are a wood worker.. and may I say you are a great one of those!
Keep up the good work!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The lot *










I never did anything that I can recall - or put my finger on - that would explain why she seemed to dislike me so much.

Perhaps, it was because the city's inspectors were constantly over there. For a period of time I wasn't sure if the police and the city inspectors had opened a new office over there - or they just liked to visit with her.

Maybe she thought it was me who was calling in complaining about the abandoned cars, and an old boat that had more holes in it than my head. 
And I must confess, I wanted that vacant lot that was attached to the house where she lived .

In addition to the many piles of junk and the pit bull with the well worn circular path around the stake to which it was tied, the rest of the yard was covered with knee high weeds that spread out across the rest of the lot.

The little kids in the neighborhood used to claim that wild animals lived in the tall weeds.
Heck- I saw some of them. However, I never told anyone this -and left it as one of those urban legends.

Maybe it was the fact the pit bull named Dog, who didn't have shelter or water, and barked constantly - maybe it was that that caught the attention of someone else in the neighborhood.

I merely lived quietly across the street.

I will admit to you, I had thought of calling the city and police several times but knew at some gut level that this wasn't one of our neighborhood's finest and friendliest families. It had nothing to do with my knowledge that one of the family members just got out of prison after serving a sentence related to drug and gang affiliation charges.

Nothing!

I do admit to having many nasty thoughts - they usually were the most intense when I was backing my large clumsy three quarter ton pickup out of out of my driveway always having to do special just to get out.

This was despite the "No Parking" sign on the street - an ordinance of the city. The sign was leaning to one side from someone hitting it with a car. Interesting, the damage to the sign somehow matched a dent to her car's bumper.

I guess this law didn't apply to her.

I confess my sins right now and admit to you that I thought very naughty things and had my explanations for these terrible thoughts well rehearsed in my head. They went something like this- "Officer, I'm so sorry my truck just got a mind of its own and suddenly accelerated - at a unusually high rate of speed - as it lunged into the expensive car she owned. I'm very sorry my big reinforced bumper and large oversized steel hitch struck her door making it impossible to open."

It's so sad - I just feel terrible.

Yes I confessed these thoughts to Father Al many times. I have said my share of Hail Mary's - trust me!

I'm grateful for a forgiving God.

Yes I coveted that lot. That big oversized lot - located right across from my house. An empty lot that size, in the middle of the city. Priceless! Even though it was full of junk cars and looked like an old salvage yard.

I had designed countless new shops that would fit so well on that big beautiful lot.

How I wanted it.

You see for the last 4 years I have been working in and out of an old garage that never hosted my own truck or car despite our harsh winters in Minnesota. It seems like most years, the extreme cold and snow usually starts about the day after the July 4th here in Minnesota. But it's only a small inconvenience having my truck and car in the driveway compared to not having my woodworking shop. Anyway, due to its low ceiling, to get the truck into the garage I would have had to let the air out of the tires. You see, this is proof positive it was meant to be a woodworking shop all along.

I always knew that.

The fact it had no heat or insulation and it gets below zero here in Minnesota was not a problem because I had a 100 pound propane cylinder and sunflower head.
My eyes watered so bad, everyone though I was crying. It was merely the lack of oxygen. Nothing serious, I don't know a woodworker that isn't willing to put up with- a little inconvenience just to be out working in their shop. Between you and me, I really thought I was going blind or at least had cataracts.

Now this shouldn't be construed as ungratefulness for my workshop conditions. It just helps to explain my fantasy thoughts for that vacant lot directly across the street. The lights consisted of a cobbled string of those old florescent fixtures that when turned on, either blinked for what seemed about two days, or emitted a low hum that sounded like a wounded bumblebee.

This new shop I had designed in my mind for that vacant lot would not only allow me the luxury of not going out side to change my mind, as is necessary in my small shop - the new fantasy shop also included banks and banks of lights- so bright - it would cause the whole neighborhood to dim when I flipped the switch.

I dreamed of those days, everyday for three long years.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 2-21-2007)


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


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I was sitting here waiting for this and "Poof" it appeared


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Im slow sorry. And now off to church….back later with chapter 3…..

Dusty


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Dusty
You're like one of them Friday night serials at the movies, when I was a kid. They would always end, leaving you up in the air, waiting for next Friday.

Dick


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Keep them coming, Dusty. A great story. Thanks for sharing it with us.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The cast of charaters *










They say that time flies. I think that's a fib. I don't think it's true when you live across the street from a nightmare. It now had become a 'daymare'.

I work split shifts and am home at least six hours a day during the daylight hours. I work in my woodshop during that time. I like having my garage door open. I leave it open so I can see what's going on across the street and around the neighborhood.

My workshop has become the neighborhood center point. We came to live in this neighborhood almost 4 years ago now. We originally moved up here for one reason. It was all we could afford. We moved during the peak of the housing market. We had put in five offers in one week. We lost out on every offer we made. The last house for which we made an offer went for thirteen thousand five hundred dollars over asking price. I gave up and headed for an area on the fringe of a notorious high-crime area.

We wanted to find a place we could do some remodeling and gain some sweat-equity. We also wanted to get our feet wet, so to speak, in the home remodeling business.

We almost drowned.

We soon found out that just because my best buddy TJ from college had a degree in finance and I had a background as a heavy equipment operator, it didn't make us real estate barons.

We were both new to the big city after graduating from a small rural college. We were not only going to make are mark on the real estate market, but the simple fact was we needed a place to live.

Our lease on our apartment had expired. We both had hated it and wanted to pool our money to buy a duplex so we could pursue our dream of owning real estate. We also were aware that affordable housing soon wouldn't be available at the rate it was appreciating. The simple fact also was we left college with a lot of liberal ideas and a ton of debt.
We had already done a couple side jobs like painting, fixing up old fences, small repairs and a lot of cosmic work. We thought we were on our way to giving Donald Trump a run for his development empire.

Oh to be young and dumb again.

We had, in our defense, spent a year redoing our house with what limited tools and experience we had - we felt we did pretty well. All the feedback we got was positive. 
We spent about eighteen grand remodeling our existing home. Not bad for a couple of rookies. It wasn't so much what we did, it was what it had done for us. It lit the fire of woodworking and a desire to do more.

Every chance we got we took a class from the local Home Depot or lumberyard. I read everything I could get my hands on. I watched every home improvement show known to man.

Move over Norm Abrams.
Not so fast.

We soon found it's much easier to watch it on TV. It certainly took less time when they did it than it seemed to take us. I also noticed we had another problem they never seemed to have; enough money to do the job the way I wanted.

Over a four year period, we slowly began to gain valuable experience. We even had business cards printed - with our names - and an impressive title like Construction Foreman. Even though I was the only employee and it was a side job for us.

It worked.

It's amazing how many people will hire you when you are honest and will work for almost nothing. The problem is it's hard to live off homemade pies and trading out your labor. Never the less, it gave us valuable experience and confidence for us to take our next steps to becoming real estate barons.

Like I said - oh to be young again.

The big thing beside experience that we gained, is that we had slowly added to our impressive tool inventory. Oh we had tools. Most of which we had no clue how to use or couldn't use. But, we just new some day we would need those tools and would be happy we had them.

Yea right - we soon found out those days never seemed to come. And when they did, we never were able to find that tool we knew we bought and now needed.

Our big break came when a buddy who had attended college with us, landed a branch banker job near where we lived. He had been watching the progress we had made on the house we lived in. He asked us to help him find a home in this area. It would be near his work and we could make some money on the side.

Besides he had also given up trying to find a home in the area he wanted to live. He simply couldn't afford it either. A win, win for everyone.

It actually worked. We found a house for him. We did the design, planning, coordinating with the city for the building permits and inspections. We learned a lot and got our feet wet as remodel experts.

We even made money.

That is if you don't count your labor.

Oh to be young again.

Most important we learned a lot. We also discovered something. You make a neighborhood what you want it. If you start to clean it up and stay with it and encourage others, even pitching in to help them - even if it's just cosmetic, the rewards are beyond ones expectations.

That however is another whole story and another blog.

I would be remiss if I didn't mention two of our faithful partners.

Their background wasn't in construction but rather public relations. That is one of the most valuable assets you can have on your way to becoming a real estate baron.
Meet Spike Lee (the Bull) and Sammy or Sam for short are Basset Hounds. They are our official shop hounds. They are with us at ever job and right under our feet in our shop. They gave us our 'in' to the neighborhood.

We walked them every night and over time people became accustom to seeing us and slowly came out to pet them and we would always introduce ourselves and make conversation. Soon we had made several friends from the neighborhood.
This became something that money couldn't buy. In time we found out how valuable those shop hounds and our daily walks were. In short they turned out to be something we never could imagine that was to become.

We soon found out; priceless!

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 2-23-2007)


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


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I'll go with, *Oh to be young again.*


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Oscorner.

The funny thing about life is you have to experience it to get "experience". They say you learn from your mistakes. Well- then I should be a genius for starters -and I'm afraid I wont live long enough to make all the mistakes I need to to gain that thing called wisdom.

So the next best thing- is to revert back to when we were young and knew it all - Or at least though we did. Funny thing is now- I look back and think to myself, when I was convinced that I knew everything and my parents tried to guide me -the best they could -how was it they could of possibly existed being as "dumb" as I thought they were at the time.

I was so sure I knew it all.

Its with humility that I admit I sure was a ….......... mule.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


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another great chapter in your tale.

Without dreams we are without goals. Without experiences we are without learning. Without courage we are without risks. Without risks we remain in our past.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The One handed Carpenter*










Did I tell you I'm a one handed carpenter?

Well, I have two hands but my left hand, although still attached, is pretty much worthless. In case I haven't told you, I will briefly recap how this happened. The only reason I mention this is that it's relevant to my story as a future carpenter and furniture builder.
Several years ago when I was a heavy equipment operator, I had a bad accident. While working on a brand new back-hoe, digging-in a new electrical line, I noticed some leaking hydraulic oil on a new hose located on the back hoe. I stopped and wiped off the oil with a rag and at that exact moment, the hydraulic hose exploded, injecting hydraulic fluid into my thumb and hand.

Not good.

My thumb and hand sustained serious and substantial injury. After eight surgeries and several hospitalizations over the course of a year, I was left with an almost non-functioning left hand. Besides the unbearable pain, I had four very long and ugly scars, a deformed thumb and several other complications with the hand. One is extreme sensitivity to hot and cold; the worst being the cold. When left unprotected in the slightest cold, it freezes almost instantly.

I live in Minnesota; enough said.

The hand and thumb with its unsightly scars is a constant reminder of the shame and embarrassment I feel to this day. I always have it covered or tucked in a sweatshirt pocket. I try never show the hand in public.

In short I am still ashamed.

Unable to move or bend the thumb, the hand has no real functionality. It is constantly throbbing with pain. I can really only use it as hook-like appliance because of its severe limitations. Picture a grasping claw that has no clamping strength.

Arthritis has really taken its toll on the hand and fingers. Permanent swelling, pain and sensitivity persist. A pocket of hydraulic fluid about the size of a marble is trapped in the web of the hand. The doctors tell me that this needs to be removed someday.

After all the hell I have gone through? "Over my dead body!" I tell them.

I am not mentioning this because I want pity. I had enough self-pity the first year of my recovery. I mention it because it permanently changed my life and ended my career in the construction field as a heavy equipment operator.

After substantial rehabilitation and learning to live with the pain, I enrolled in college to train for a new career. I began my retraining with a major in business and as a Para-legal.

I hated ever minute of it.

I am a farm boy. I grew up on a farm and have operated equipment of some sort all my life. I loved being around construction and all the trades.

Again, the only reason I mention this is that it's relevant to my story as a future carpenter and furniture builder.

Especially, when I hire a crooked carpenter to help me with a project and he disappears with all my money and never finishes the job while leaving me and my client with a huge mess.

Oh the irony of a "crooked carpenter".

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 2-26-2007)


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Great story, Dusty, I'm well-and-truly hooked!


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


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30 years ago while in a drunken stupor I put my right hand through a plate glass window. Doctors said it'd never work again. I can hold a hammer and a saw, fortuneately I write left handed, but i'll never play piano again. The fingers only close when it's in a fist. And the little finger is bent in a funny little crook. They don't spread apart or close so there goes my fast ball. It's numb, so I only know if it's hot when I see it on fire, and by then it's probably too late. And when it's cold outside my little finger gets cold fastest. Even though I can hold a hammer and a saw, I don't really have any gripping ability.

I feel for you, but I have no sympathy. I see an overcomer. You have great talent, and it sucks to be limited. You are an inspiration. Somewhere there is someone, needing to hear that although you've been hindered, you've not been stopped.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Touching story, I'm glad to see that you've accepted it. You do some wonderful work. I think with some people they try to excel in their accomplishments, & you have done just that. It's almost like a blind person, they get a keener sense of hearing. I had a fellow that worked for me, who had one arm. It was amazing what he could do. He tried to teach me how to tie my shoes with one hand, but I could never learn. It could be that didn't have to.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


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and so the story continues… 
you are an inspiration. Thank you for sharing your story. 
The "life guide" in me has to ask, though, why "shame"?


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Dusty, I don't understand why you are ashamed. You had an accident and you didn't let it stop you. I once ran heavy equipment for a living. I injured my left wrist one day when I lost my balance on the cat walk of a dragline. Well, I was holding the hand rail with my left hand and when I lost my balance I swung out twisting my wrist. I never went to a doctor, just wrapped it in an ace bandage and kept running the dragline. It was a month before it stopped hurting. Well, my left wrist will get bothered when I joint a board or lift a heavy board, especially if I bend my wrist. My injury doesn't compare to yours, even though it is a limiting factor at times, but I wanted you to know that we all have accidents and to continue in spite of them is a great thing.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


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Dusty,
Your mentioning about the *"Crooked carpenter,"* reminded me about my *"Crooked Plummer"*
I put a basement under my house back in 1968, & I was shopping around for a Hydronic boiler, & baseboards for the house. He stopped by my house one day, he had been a friend of the family. He told me he could get one wholesale for me, & save me a lot of money. About 6 months after I had finished the installation, a guy knocked on our door. He said he was from the plumming supply company, & said he was never paid for the system. He was going to put a lein on my home.
To cut this story short, about 2 years later, I had my old friend arrested, & he came up with some money. Then I went , and paid the supplier, & boy was he surprised. He always thought I was in cahoots with the plummer.
He then told me whenever I needed anything, to stop, & see him my credit was good.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Obi, 
I nod, and share your kinship.

Thank you. You said it all-and well-but shared your story thats what touched me.

You said it all, enough said.

Dusty


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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MsDebbieP and Oscorner.

Briefly I will try answer the question, why the shame. I made a mistake, I knew better than to wipe a hydraulic hose down under pressure that's leaking. That accident was preventable. That is where forgiving ones self comes in.

I'm working on that.

The real shame comes from the year following the accident where my self pity, feeling useless, and sinking into a deep depression profoundly affected me. With out saying to much more - as there is a lot left of this story to tell.

Remember i said when I wrote the first chapter…. its time and part of my healing.

Please be patience and thank you for allowing me to share my experiences- you have no idea how cleansing it feels.

Dusty


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Dick,

Been there.

Stay Tuned buddy.

Dusty


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## David (Jan 26, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Dusty - What an incredible touching story. Thank you for sharing. I greatly admire you for a number of reasons, not the least of which is your spirit. You are very talented and a wonderful craftsman. I view and admire your projects and say to myself "if only I could . . ." You are a master of arts and crafts style furniture. I will consider myself successful as a woodworker if I can some day approach you level of workmanship.

As an Emergency Physician, I have seen this story many times. Not everyone recovers like you nor do they have your spirit and character.

I look forward to many more postings of your projects.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


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looking forward to hearing more of your story.

Following my husband's suicide I developed a motto that I live by: "Love life; live life; and live with no regrets.". 
"How can you live without regrets", I have been asked many times. Simple: I make choices and, with the information that I have, with the mood that I am in, with the motivations that I am dealing with at the time (etc), the decision I make is the best that I can do in that moment. I might have new information a second later but in that moment it was the decision that I made and then, after, I have new choices to make-to the best of my ability given the skills I have, knowledge I have, strength I have, mood, motivation etc. That was then, and this is now - so what am I going to do NOW?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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David.,

Thank you.

The one thing I left out of the story- because I'm trying to keep it as short -and to the point- so I don't take lose the readers out of boredom - is the fact that I didn't seek medical attention for over 12 hours. After the hose exploded other than being covered with hydraulic oil and mad at my self for being all oily there was only a small injection point/wound on the thumb. One drop of blood that was it. It merely stung. I simply did what ever heavy equipment operator or woodworker would do. Keep working until the end of the day. I wrapped it in a old rag I had until I could go home for the day and change get cleaned up and put a band aid on the wound.

Needless to say 12 hours later unable to sleep because of the pain and a red line running up my left arm that was distinct and climbing .

I drove myself to emergency room.

When I registered with the reception desk, I apologized to the lady for having to bother a Dr to come in and take a look at this wound. I was sure it wasn't that bad and it was just the pain and red line that worried me. I lived at that time in small town so they had to call 
Resident Dr in from over at the hospital and then page the Dr to come in.

The resident came in I told him I was sorry he had to come in on a Sunday-and what happened . I then suddenly got very sick and collapsed.

I awoke three hours later after the first surgery being prepared to be transported via air ambulance to a major city hospital. they hadn't even closed the hand merely wraped it so that they could go back in again when I arrived at the next hospital to remove more of the hydraulic fluid.

Thank god I made it on time. I thank the Dr's on call.

Another deposit in lessons learned in life account.

Go immediately and seek medical attention.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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MsdebbieP.

Thank you for sharing your deeply personal and tragic story.

You - and your strength and wisdom in turn inspires me.

Dusty


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## David (Jan 26, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Dusty - I appreciate the extra details you just shared more than you can imagine! High pressure injection injuries are very difficult and frequently "don't look bad" initially. I have seen this also with high pressure grease, as well as, paint from an airless spray rig. I think you are one of those typical stoic male heavy equipment operators!

Again your story and spirit struck a chord in my heart. I am glad you are ding well. I will say again that I would love to do with my two hands the same that you do with one good fucntioning hand!


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks for explaining, Dusty and for sharing this private time in your life with us.

Praying that God is a part of your healing,
Mark


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Been catching up on your blogging. Good job. I am here at lumberjocks because I get the story behind the woodworking. I get to share in something besides who builds the cheapist cabinets. Thanks for hanging with us Dusty. I really understand just wraping a wound it duct tape and staying on the job. I did something just as crazy during my heart attact. I just kept working waiting for the pain to go away.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Ocscorner.

thank you and yes he is.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dennis,

I so understand, the trouble with the human body is it can take to much abuse for to long a period.

Well I'm off to a 4 day vacation, first one in four years. One thing I"m trying to do is take some time off and better care of myself.

Dusty


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


And then there's pride. "I'm not hurt, I can't afford a doctor, it's just a little cut"

October 18, 2006 Doc rode his bike home from work and got hit at an intersection by a car. Medi-flight was on it's way and the ambulance driver told them to go away, the rider could walk and talk. Doc's wife, Julie, took him to the Emergency room where they didnt feel it neccessary to x-ray Doc. so he sat in the emergency room… and bled to death. My friend, my neighbor. Told the Ambulance driver "I'm O.K."

As I covered my finger in a rag and duct tape, I almost continued to work through the table saw hitting my thumb, I only kept working til the blood became more of a nusance.
I went home.

******************** happenes. I'd say "Stuff Happens", but this isnt stuff, this is ********************. An overcomer picks up what's left of his digits, his dignity, his self respect and continues on.

Don't let pride keep you from common sense.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks for sharing this story Dusty, taken me a while to comment. I think Obi hit it right you're an overcomer, not a word that came to mind before now.

This reminds me of the same spirit I see in my wife. She was born with Spina Bifida, (Her spine wasn't fully formed, and her lower back was actually "open") The Dr's essentially told my in-laws not to get too attached. Several immediate surgeries later she was out of the hospital and finally discharged. (Nice way to come into the world huh?)... She was the 4th child, and the first daughter that they had been trying for, and took her home and loved her, and never set any limitations on what their kids could do. Despite having to wear short-leg braces she got around at school just like everyone else, even though she could have left class a few minutes early. Her parents let her try skiing, driving, and everything else that everybody does (except ride a bicyle - her knees don't bend on the same plane as her ankes - It's just not biomechanically possible - there's that one consession to safety). But otherwise she's had a very normal life. Was never told she couldn't have kids, and her pregnancy was textbook. Incidentally, We both see a chiropractor regularly now… when the Dr. showed her x-rays to a colleague, his response was essentially… well, obviously she's in a wheelchair, she certainly can't walk. (And according to the laws of physics, the bumblebee can't fly!) None of his observations, based on her x-rays were true! It just goes to show what determination, and an open mind can achieve.

Like you, Dusty, she doesn't want pity, or a helping hand, (Which can be frustrating for the rest of us sometimes) but rather just to do whatever strikes her fancy, and enjoy it. The human body (and mind for that matter) is a remarkable thing. Take away something, and something else becomes stronger.

You have earned our respect with your work, and now we admire you for your character.

I too, love all the behind the woodworking we have here… just makes any other woodworking forum a sterile lifeless sort of place.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


And, Scott, thank you for sharing this intimate story with us. Your wife sounds like a special lady - so that makes two of you.

God bless,


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thank you Scott, that was a touching story, it's amazing how people can overcome their handicaps. That makes you, & your wife extra special in my book.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks Don and Dick.

I'm trying not to hijack this thread, but yes, she is. She really makes the world a nicer place - the people around us especially. Our life is fairly normal, sure we can't go hiking together (since she essentially has lower leg paralysis - so therefore I'm probably not getting all the outside excercise I could be) but we've gone horseback riding, travelled quite a bit, heck, she walked the entire Champs Elysees, and climbed up (the severely dished spiral stairs of) Notre Dame and winding roads of Mt. St. Michel. She's given me the best job ever (being a daddy), and even let me "get off the ladder". (but that's another blog)

She just has that quiet strength - not an in your face I can do anything attitude - just the confidence that she can do anything she cares to. Something to respect and admire - a trait you may not see in some more able-bodied people.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Scottb.
I just returned from a 5 day vacation ( the first one in years, ) I was out west rock climbing and having some fun.

This was another thing I was told I couldn't or shouldn't do.

What ever right. I sure am sore from doing something that I can't do.

I was so touched with your story about your wife and your struggle and patience. What a treat to come home to.

It am so touched how so many of us have very personal stories- but our common thread is woodworking witch allows us to share both. Makes the journey a lot easier.

Thank you


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The One handed Carpenter*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


You're welcome… and good for you! (the vacation, that is)


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Mz D the lunch lady*










We were warned by the seller when we bought our first house, across the street from this old crack house, "Don't pay any attention to the lady next door. She's sloppy and doesn't always keep her yard mowed or cleaned up. She's not very friendly".

I though, oh good, what did we get into now? "How long have you known her and how long has she had lived there?" I asked.

"Sixty plus years!" he responded. He went on to informed me that hers was the second house built on the block and that she had been there ever since.

He answered thirty-two years when asked how long he had lived there. I commented something to the effect that he seemed to be very negative towards his neighbor. He snapped back, "Thirty years of Creeping-Charlie from her yard would drive anyone nuts! You bet I'm bitter!"

When I asked him if he had ever talked to her about it, he told me of a conversation with her thirty years ago. "She told me I'd have to speak with her father about it," he informed me, "She never did anything about it and I've barely talked to her since."

Seems like a long time to hold a grudge to me, so I just dropped it. I realized that this was an issue bigger than me.

We bought the house anyways and were excited to move in and start our new life on the way to becoming real estate barons.

We were able to gain early access to the house as the previous owners were renting back from us for a few months. The Lady of the house suffered from Multiple Sclerosis and they were building a new barrier-free home for her condition. This house was nearby but wasn't yet completed. This allowed us to do a lot of yard work and outside repairs to the house and garage before we moved in.

We were there every weekend and other times but we never saw the lady who lived next door. I didn't notice that her sidewalks went unshoveled for days. There was also a large pile of old trees and what looked like junk in the back yard. The fence had fallen down; the barbecue-pit really was in bad shape. The brush had taken over along with a large patch of real old growth Lilac trees. They had never been pruned by the looks of them.

We finally moved in. We had been working on the house for over six weeks while waiting for our lease in our apartment to expire. We had the luxury of not having to live in the remodeling while it was going on.

We did a lot of cosmetic things to the house. We painted, tore up the carpet and refinished the hardwood floors. I sheet-rocked and taped a room that had old paneling. Many things like this were done to the house.

There were two driveways leading up to the old house. One led to an old garage that was attached to the house, the other to the new garage they had built in the back yard.

I wanted to remove one of the driveways. The previous owners had converted the old garage to a porch but left the blacktop so they could get the wheelchair down the driveway to the street to get access to a lift equipped handicap van.

On my wish list also was to remove the old doors and install a patio door and make this three-season porch a year around four-season sun room. Plans included adding a fireplace and making it a comfortable den.

The skill level to do this was way beyond me. I was only a novice at this house remodeling at this point. Besides, remember I had the bad hand. So I was limited to what I could do.

I mentioned this to a co-worker and asked if he knew of a carpenter I could hire.

He knew of a friend of a friend. He got his number for me and I called him.

He sounded friendly enough on the phone but was acting as if taking on this job would be doing me a favor. He was curious if I paid in cash. He made it clear he only did these sideline jobs if they fit in with his schedule as he was a full time carpenter.

Beggars can't be choosy.

He arrived and gave the job a once over look. He then said, "I charge by the hour and get paid at the end of the day, ever day." I will pick up the materials and bill you for what I picked up."

I admit I'm green but not stupid. I had been around construction enough to know a few things.

I informed him that I would pick up the materials and have it ready for him. I had a truck and the time. "You can then just show up and work," I explained.

"OK, fine!" he snapped. "My hourly rate is $30.00."

I thought it was a bit steep, but never-the-less I agreed. "What do you need to get started and when could you?" He said he could start this Saturday. "Oh good, you're not booked up?" I asked.

I should have known why right then.

My carpentry apprentice training was about to begin.

copy write all rights reserved D.Jerzak 2-10-07


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


*Tell me more!*


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


This was only a few pages, not a full chapter. Back to the keyboard, you, and finish the chapter.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Oh no… I fear for the lessons you're about to learn in chapter 6… -- or 5b in Obi's book 

If only you knew then what you know now!


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Like he said in chapter 4 …. the crooked carpenter.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Ok Dusty its been 19 hours where's the rest of the story? I'm waiting!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


My chapter numbering system is like like shop….. not very organized- but i know where every thing is if I can find it. 

I just got back from vacation and man what was doing thinking that I'm still a young kid that I went rock climbing.

Can you say sore!

I so should know better.

Oh well I don't …shrug

back to writing ....thanks for all the encouragement its very heart warming as I never have attempted anything like this before…..most days I have trouble just writing my name let alone my life story

dust


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


this could be a book!!!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Msdebbie.

More like a horror story. This next chapter is title "I'm the one with the stupid shirt….. so go figure….this is going to be a humbling chapter …well I might as well get with it and take my licking…won't be the first and I'm darn sure not the last. 

They say healing starts when you can laugh at your self.

In that case- after the next chapter I should l be cured.

Dusty


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Scottb

If only I knew 25% of what I thought I knew back then- I would have more hair, weight less, have all my sences intack, a lot more money and be some where else I'm sure.

Perhaps a king of something. 

Dusty


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


life would be pretty boring without the lessons thrown at us here and there (and here, and there, and here, and here) 
The trick is to see it as a lesson rather than as a hardship. 
So far I'm really enjoying experiencing your lesson 

Can't wait for the next chapter.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Well in your next life you shall be! (You've put in the the time and paid the dues!)


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Mz D the lunch lady*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


If I knew I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself. ANd if this was a perfect life and everything was perfect, we'd have to make stuff up to make it more exciting … Like, Once upon a time there was this guy named Dusty and he had a stupid shirt. hahahahaha !!!! And his friend Obi, was dumber than he was, and Obi had the complete stupid suit. HAHAHAHA !!! Dumb and Dumber in the Shop. or Earnest Builds a House.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*










We agreed he would start promptly at 7AM.

After all, he is a professional carpenter and only does this on the side so he can buy more toys. That's what he told me, if you remember.

Its 7:45 AM.

I am sure he's stuck in traffic, I keep telling myself, even though its early Saturday morning and there is no traffic.

8:15AM.

Third cup of coffee; I notice the hand jitters. I convince myself it's just the excitement of beginning the new construction project. I also decide that he is lost and I should call and clarify the directions I had given him. I'm sure they weren't that clear.

I dial his cell-phone. I get his voice mail immediately. I leave a cheerful message gently inquiring when he might be here.

I go check my materials I had picked up from the lumber yard. I was feeling so good about going and picking them up, saving me the extra money he would have charged me. I was a bit smug. I must admit I felt like a real construction manager.

Checking the list I find, eight two-by-sixes, ten feet in length. Heck, I figured, just in case a mistake is made and we needed extra, I would get longer ones and two more than I figure we needed. I only needed eight-footers. I'm sure you can see the wisdom in this. I surely did.

I continue to check my list. I have a nice new clipboard I bought for this job. I feel important. I debated if I should wear my hardhat but decide against it. You see, I got the hat when I was a 'forty-niner'. It had the union decals on it and he might not be union. He might see that I was and want more money per hour. It was bad enough I had new work boots on; I didn't want him to think I was a rookie at this.

The balance of the lumber list included one patio door, a steel front entry door, 4 pieces of siding, and a new carpenter pencil for me.

9:03AM

An old beat-up pickup pulls into my driveway with ladders, cords, and what-not hung all over it. I swear Sanford and Son had arrived. I think it couldn't be him. I was sure he would drive a nice new crew-cab.

But, it was him.

As he immerged from his truck, a bunch of papers and a screwdriver fell out. I notice he was still sporting his winter belly. But then again it was early spring. He limped a bit as he bent over to pick up the screwdriver.

I didn't need to see that plumbers-crack this early. I was just grateful he finally arrived.

He introduced himself and promptly lit up a cigarette.

I ask him if he had trouble finding my place, hoping I would get an explanation as to why he was so late.

"Nope," he replied.

Well, I figured we might as well get going, so I started to move to where the materials were. All the while I was naming off what I had picked up at the lumber yard.

We looked over the job. He stared at my pile of materials and got a funny look on his face but didn't say anything. He headed back to his truck, got his tools out and started carrying them to the work area. He strapped on a nice but worn leather pouch and asked "Is this the door that needs replacing?"

"Yep!" I replied with authority. He looked at his watch then started peeling off siding.

I make a mental note that I should have one of those leather pouches.

I offer to help, but he refused. So, I go back and make it look like I am checking my list on the new clipboard. In other words, trying to look busy.

I don't think it worked too well.

In short order he had the siding off and was starting to demolish the old two-by-fours that were part of the existing wall. He then stepped back, cocked his head and asked, "Where are my two-by-fours for this wall?"

I got this panic feeling. "Two-by-fours?" I quizzed, trying not to sound lost.

"Yes, what do you want me to frame up this wall with, air?" He responded smugly.

I pointed to the pile of two-by-sixes. He retorted, "What the hell am I suppose to do with those - rip them down to two-by-fours? You got a table saw?" I could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

My heart, I swear, was going towards the light. My new work-boots suddenly pinched my feet.

He went to his truck, got out a huge tarp and returned. Covering up the hole in the wall he said, "I'm going to lunch and will come back in about an hour. If the material isn't here I go home and charge you a trip-charge."

"What do you need?" I ask very sheepishly.

That was the wrong question to ask.

With what seemed to me to be an over-abundance of testosterone, he then went off on a long-spirited lecture about why he doesn't like to work side jobs for homeowners who want to save a nickel and pick up their own materials and act like want-to-be construction managers.

"What am I supposed to do with a patio door that is for a two-by-six wall when you have a two-by-four wall? The steel door you got has a left hand swing. You need a right hand swing unless you want to have it to hit the fire place every time it's opened. The siding you got is the Dutch-lap. You need four-quarter. What am I suppose to use to hold the doors to the framing - gum?" What about hardware? What are you going to lock the doors with - lock tight?

Guess he told me.

I said I'm sorry and asked what I could do to make it right. He told me to get the hell out of his way and let him do his job. He then said, "I will pick up what I need and call you when I can fit you back in my schedule."

He then turned his back and left.

He didn't even say goodbye. I wonder if he was angry. I stood there looking at my pile of materials that I had inventoried four times. Yep, everything was still there.

He then returned and declared, "You owe me 150 bucks for this morning and I will need a draw of about $500.00 for the materials I'm going to pick up."

I almost broke my arm getting the money out of my wallet for him.

That morning I made my first installment on the apprenticeship-tuition for becoming a carpenter.

The good news is no hardhat was needed.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 2-26-2007)


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I can almost make up the rest of the story myself. I feel for you. He was doing you a favor by coming to your house. And now he'll see when he can fit you in.

Sorry Dusty. Did he spin his wheels as he was leaving?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Karson,

That along with his eyes.

This gets better ….stay tuned ( read I get really stupid) worse than this if you can believe that.

This is very humbling to admit -I was this green and naive.

It is the truth and is what it is.

I can now laugh at how silly I was and am.

That is the healing I am talking about.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty: My dad was an old farm boy from western Canada and he then moved to Ontario where I was born. But he always did his own work in home repair and the like. I remember mixing cement for the floor in the garage when I was 6 years old. So I had a great tutor, so I've never had any hired help for any work that I needed done. I keep wondering to this day what people do that buy swing sets for their children and they break in 3 days from the strength of 5 - 7 year old kids. I got out there and welded repair parts and made them stronger.

I look around at the neighbours and see them bringing in help to fix things, and I go buy tools and fix them myself.

Let the healing begin and let it flow from within.


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Did that $500.00 pay for the additional K-Y jelly you were going to need for the screwin' you were gonna get? I can almost feel it. And he's so rude I'll bet you didn't get a kiss or nuthin'.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Guess in this world we have the Lumber Jocks and the Lumber Jerks.


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Well when I get to the point of needing to work on weekends I'm to a point where I need the money, so being a journeyman carpenter… I work for such a cheap wage that it makes people look at me like I'm insane. $10.00 per hour.

Where are all the people willing to pay me $30.00 per hour when I need it?


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Obi,
I you charged 30 bucks an hour. you'd have to hire a schedule clerk, you'll be so busy. Some people think, the more you charge, the better carpenter you are.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I'm the one wearing the stupid-shirt*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I'm thinking shop time should be minimum $45.00 an hour. What does your mechanic charge you? Your Tax man? A Doctor? Of course this implies a full shop and journeyman level skills.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*My bruised ego*










Two out of three lumberjocks surveyed say, they would rather have a sliver under there finger nail than get their ego bruised.

Please pass the tweezers.

I am an L.B.D. (learn by doing type of person). The carpenter I hired not only was temperamental and greedy; he certainly didn't want me to learn anything from him. He called it "job security".

I called it short-sighted and shellfish under my breath. Right there I said to myself - if I ever was to learn woodworking I would teach anyone who wanted to learn about it, and I would do it freely.

If you show me once how to do something, I catch on very quickly and never have to be shown again. It wasn't like I was going to steal his trade secrets. I merely wanted to learn how he did the work.

My job, working with the public, requires me to learn how to work with and around all kinds of different people and personalities. We are trained well. That doesn't make it anymore pleasant to work with these difficult people. You merely learn how to tolerate them. Certainly causes some long days at times.

I have developed pretty thick skin over time but this doesn't mean I like being treated badly.

I never had an issue with the carpenter whom I hired, quality of work. I just found him to be almost impossible to be around or get along with. Communications and decency wasn't a long suit of his. There were other things about him but I couldn't put my finger on it. I'm a very trusting person overall.

Too trusting I guess. Naive.

Looking back -perhaps there was a trust issue.

I wish I would have at the time gone with my gut.

Hindsight would turn out to be genius.

Like I said before beggars can't be choosey.

Especially when you have a large hole in the side of your house and it is spring and rains are almost daily.

Besides I knew my limitations with my hand. It was long ago made clear to me by the doctors that I wouldn't have much function in this hand.

After all what good is a one handed carpenter I thought.

Looking back on it - it's sure funny how self pity, fate, and destiny will accept your resignation if you offer it.

I not only offered it I embraced and submitted it in triplicate. I had quit - period!

When you sit around feeling sorry for your self long enough and are told you can't do something enough times, you not only believe it, your behavior reflects this.

If you don't have a compelling reason like I didn't to use the mangled hand you simply don't use it. My job, or anything else for that matter, didn't require or force me to learn how to use what I had.

That was about to change.

Forever.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 2-26-2007)


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *My bruised ego*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I'll take a sliver any day.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *My bruised ego*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


it's interesting how lessons are brought to us-often in forms of frustration and drama. It sounds like this "sliver" has a huge silver lining. The carpenter was a blessing sent to you. 
I can't wait to see how he sent the message home to you…. I'm sure that he had to really knock the stuffin out of you a few times before you came to the realization of what your potential was/is.

Keep the story coming Dusty.. I'm on the edge of my seat!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *My bruised ego*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


MsDebbie,

You have no idea. I am convinced there is a reason for everything. I just don't always understand the reasons. I'm grateful to have had these life awakenings however at the time they sure can be painful.

Stay tuned, we are just getting going. There is more to come. Don't forget the first blog entry ( kidnapping, murder, a death and …..............................

I'm very touched that you find my sharing of my experiences to be of interest.

It certainly is helping my healing process.

Thank you.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *My bruised ego*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


You're getting better all the time. Keep it coming.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*She's not an axe murderer*










A major cleanup was one of the things that really needed to be done when we bought our first house. I'm not just talking about mowing the grass and picking up some litter, I'm talking about it's dumpster time.

I called and ordered a ten-yard dumpster. I thought it was a bit high-priced. They charge $200.00 for one. That's the cost; if you want one, you pay the asking price. Besides, I was sure that it would be sufficient for all the junk that I inherited with the house.

I forget now which lesson number I was about to learn. I lose track when there are so many, but I do remember they were coming fast and often.

The dumpster was delivered late in the afternoon and the driver took my money with a smile. I had it placed on the end of my driveway next to the street. I was thinking it would be easy to remove when full. I was looking forward to getting out early the next morning and getting a good start on the major cleanup that was ahead of me.

I awaken all excited and looking forward to the cleanup. There is something that feels good inside yourself when you are going to take on a major task of any kind.

I made a pot of fresh coffee, put it in a thermos and headed outside to survey the job ahead of me. No time to waste! I figured that I might as well get this show on the road.

Imagine my surprise when I came around the corner and spotted the dumpster. I saw a dresser sticking above the sides of the dumpster. That was just the tip of the iceberg. The dumpster was already three-quarters full.

Anything and every thing you could imagine, it was in the dumpster. You name it, and it likely was in there.

A prompt phone call to the dumpster company didn't make me feel any better. In a nut-shell - if you want a dumpster with a top that you can secure, it's an extra fifty dollars.

While On the phone with the dumpster company I swear I heard snickering in the back ground on the other end of the line as I was explaining my situation with discovering my dumpster being over half full.

This was a costly lesson. I hoped I had enough money to learn all the lessons it seemed I needed to learn about becoming a real estate baron.

With one eye on my yard work and the other on the almost full dumpster, I got to work filling it. This didn't take very long.

Three dumpsters later, the yard looked like it was totally new. I trimmed the brush and dismantled and removed some old metal sheds. I untangle and removed old clothes lines. To this day I have no idea why they were there, but I struggled to remove several metal posts that had been driven in the yard. I can only guess they were for an old snow fence as I threw out several rolls of that also. 
The cleanup was hard work and I was grateful to have help from my business partner and roommate from college because with one dysfunctional hand, I wasn't very productive. I did the best I could. I kept a steady pace all day. Although tired at the end of the day, I felt a sense of accomplishment.

"I don't do cleanup!" The carpenter I hired to do the remodeling had made it very clear.

No wonder he didn't seem to care how big a mess he made, he never had to clean it up. After repeated trips down the long driveway from the piles of demolition material to the dumpster, I question the wisdom of my choosing to place it near the road. It was while making one of many trips back and forth loading the dumpster that I noticed the "neighbor lady from creeping charlie hell", had come outside and sat down in the tall grass behind her house.

She was surrounded by three broken-down lawnmowers, an old table, a crumbling fire pit, old flower pots and tall grass. Her lawn-chair definitely had seen better days.

Trying hard to conceal the fact, she watched me intently, as I was her.

Not a word was spoken as I keep working.

Finally, I finished with the pile of demolition material and was about to quit for the day. Earlier in the week I mowed the front yard. I then knocked on her door to offer to mow her front yard thinking that perhaps her mower had broken down. There was no answer, so I mowed it anyway.

This gave me a perfect excuse to break the ice and call over the fence and introduce my self.

I did just that.

She got up and walked towards me. I couldn't help but notice she had a major limp, had trouble walking in the tall grass, and was not in very good over-all shape. It was obvious she had struggled with her appearance and weight over time. As she got closer, my attention was drawn to here hand. It hung there like mine. Hers was quite deformed and even looked more out of place than mine.

We exchange introductions. Small talk was made. She informed me she had lived in this house for 60 years and if I wanted to know anything about the neighborhood, just ask.

She then thanked me for mowing her front yard. She explained she was bed-ridden with a migraine headache and couldn't come to the door. I told here I understood and was hoping she wasn't angry at me for mowing her front yard. She assured me that she wasn't and was very grateful as she had been having trouble with both her knee and the lawnmower. I offered to look at the lawn mower.

She gladly accepted. She seemed genuinely warm and very nice. She was hardly the woman I had pictured from the description we had from the previous owners of our house.

Besides she had a deformed hand and somehow because of this I think we both were able to trust each other a bit and let our guards down faster than usual.

She had to sit down and invited me to do the same. I did.

She commented on the pretty flowers I had already planted. She was very excited about seeing the rose bushes when they bloomed. She said that she was surprised to come home and find us doing remodeling work on the house. She asked me if I was doing the carpentry work. I told here no. I had hired a carpenter that a friend had recommended. She wondered if he would be willing to build her a storage shed. I explained that his work was fine but he was very hard to get alone with.

She commented, "I suppose because no one wants to do these small jobs. I've tried for a long time to hire some one to build this shed and they all say they are interested but never come over to look at it."

I told her I would ask him but really wasn't recommending him. She said, "Beggars can't be choosey." I though where had I heard that before.

She thanked me for taking time to ask him.

We sat and visited for some time. I found out she lived alone in the house. She had never been married and that her mother was the best friend she had. When I inquired about her she explained she had passed away five years ago.

She commented about our dogs. I told her about them and apologized for them barking and explained that as soon as the remodeling was done we would fix the fence and they would be coming to stay with us. Until then a good friend of mine had been kind enough to keep and care for them while we found a house.

She said she loved dogs - no worries.

She asked if we planed on working tomorrow morning. I said yes. We were going to work everyday until done.

In short, it seemed she was a very gentle, well-meaning good Christian woman. She appeared untidy and looked a bit messy.

I could tell she was just lonely and liked the company.

That made two of us.

copy write all rights reserved D.Jerzak 2-04-07


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Sorry to hear that there is only one carpenter in Minneapolis, I bet he makes a killing.

Did anyone check any of the dumpsters for dead bodies?

Waiting for the release of "DUSTY, Lumberjock: The Movie"


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Keep it comming. This isn't like the old Saturaday serials. You only got a new version on Sat. at the movies. But, they made sure that you came back, so that you didn't miss anything.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I thought they delivered the dumpsters half full.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I'm going to cry… that's all there is to it.. I can't hold the tears back any longer.

this is beautiful.


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


For Cryin Out loud, Debbie…"THERE'S NO CRYIN' IN WOODSHOP"


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


oops sorry.
forgot again


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## kwhit190211 (Feb 13, 2008)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Debbie, don't listen to Obi. You can cry if you wack off part of your thumb like I did! In my workshop. LOL


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## kwhit190211 (Feb 13, 2008)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Besides there are a lot of nice people out there. Sometimes you just have to sit down & smell the roses. Not eveyone is sinical.


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## marcb (May 5, 2008)

Dusty said:


> *She's not an axe murderer*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I love meeting neighbors. My wife pokes fun at me about it. I'm the talk over the fence neighbor, I've met everyone around me expect the one guy that doesn't want to be friendly. And that was after I got his dog after it busted out of the fence.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*How I learned the woodworking basics*










My real day job is driving a 40 foot city Transit bus. It's a part time position. It's a government union job which pays me benefits and a decent wage. This has enabled me to spend a lot of time practicing my crafts.

For that I shall always be grateful.

In other words it pays enough to allow me -because of the split shifts- to be home for 6 hours a day and to be able to work in my shop or on a remodel job. My hours are rush hours Monday thru Friday. I have weekends off.

This job has taught me more about woodworking than any woodworking magazine, class, home lumber yard, or book could ever teach me.

You are I can tell skeptical.

Understood.

Let me try explaining.

Most of the passengers I carry are very poor. They suffer from various disabilities such as blindness, mental retardation, profound or serious life disorders. Many are simply the working homeless- because of no fault of there own.

Affordable housing is not abundant where I live.

It's also getting worse.

I also drive thru the intercity neighborhoods. The city's elected officials calls these "challenged areas". The latest city term is "opportunity areas."

Most people refer to them as the ghetto or the hood.

Also described as very dangerous by most people.

To me its simply home.

This is where my woodworking started. This is where I took my first class of woodworking applied theory 101.

Every day I see these incredible challenges these people faced. With out fan fair or any attention brought to them selves, they are waiting in the bus stop to go to a job that no one else wants or most of us wouldn't do if we were honest with ourselves.

A grand majority of my passengers- get on board pay the fare, take a seat, and never say a word. When the time comes to get off it's the same. They simply get off- go about there day.

Some times I have to wake them. Some times point out to them that there gun fell out of their pocket and not to forget it.

Even the gang members and I have a understanding.

The road map of my route is written all over there face. I just have to read it.

I not only have read it- I've studied it.

I'm I quick study.

I treat them all the same. They all get respect, a nod, a quiet thank you and no hassle.

I never question or judge.

The official company policy on fares to ride the bus is to ask once for it. They company never stated how loud I have to ask- or what language I need to ask for it in.

This comes in handy for the homeless passenger I serve.

I have a very quiet voice and speak a foreign language when I am asking for the two bucks from these passengers of mine who don't have it. I also offer assistance in finding them a seat if they need help.

Their eyes say thank you even when the lips don't move. It gets darn cold here in Minnesota.

Woodworking lesson learned- find a way to get it done.

I simply drive the bus. I focus on the road and look straight ahead. I don't know where most have been in the past nor would it be of much help because we are all where we are today. I simply remind my self but for the grace of God I am driving this bus rather than catching it.

Period!

We can either move forward or fall behind and miss the bus.

I am not a social worker and can't fix there ills.

But I won't and don't have to add to them either.

I do only what I can do that's it. Its one of the many woodworking lessons they taught me. The lesson is sometimes you have to accept what your limitations are - whether it's a time constraint, cost problem, tool issue, space problems or skill level challenge.

You do the best you can with what you have.

You just do it. You learn and you move on. You show gratitude because it could be worse.

You keep moving because the "bus of life" won't wait for you.

Nor does it make personal house calls.

And even when you don't want to get up the next day and go back out in the cold and go back to it again you just do it. Another woodworking lesson learned.

And ever day the lessons come, some obvious some very subtle. I just drive the bus watching and listening. Long ago one of the first lessons taught me was "its better to be silent and thought of as fool … as to open my mouth and remove all doubt".

It took me a while to learn that one. I'm a slow learner - but I have it down pat now.

Well learned, even if from time to time I need a refresher.

I could go on and on about the many woodworking lessons I have learned and keep learning driving the bus. I won't bore you- I have a feeling you understand.

One over all lesson if you will indulge me is - for those of us who allegedly have all of our facilities and functions -we should be so grateful- and blessed - to do as much with these gifts as we can- and less talk and excuses about why we can't.

Enough said.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 3-2-2007)


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *How I learned the woodworking basics*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Hugs.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *How I learned the woodworking basics*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


OK we have a driver for the blue collar cabinet tour!


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *How I learned the woodworking basics*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Does he have a CDL. That will be a requirement to drive the Peterbuilt.

Very good Dusty.


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *How I learned the woodworking basics*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


If he drives for the City, I'm sure he has his CDL


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *How I learned the woodworking basics*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Class A cdl no restrictions several endorsements…..

"move that bus"


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *How I learned the woodworking basics*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


We got a bus driver!


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *How I learned the woodworking basics*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Everything's falling right into place!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Bad allergies*










Friendships are like woodworking projects in a lot of ways. For example, you have to start with the basics. You need an idea, plan, or some type of picture of what it is you want to build or end up with. You then measure, cut, fit, assemble, and so on, to end up with a finished project you can cherish for a long time.

Sometimes you end up with something totally unexpected. In some cases you abandon the project or never bring it to a finished state.

Once in a while you end up with a project that surpasses all your expectations and turns out to be a rare treasure. You cherish these projects and enjoy them. After all, a lot of hard work goes into them.

After you rough cut the wood for a project you don't follow with the finish coat of stain. There are a lot of in-between steps that go into the project before you get to finished stage in the project.

My point is, a worthwhile project takes time and effort. Some projects take much longer than others.

With a lot of time and a hard work invested in getting to know the neighbor lady, I eventually gained her trust and confidence. This is not always an easy task with someone who has been deeply hurt and teased most of her life because of her handicap and other life challenges.

Her best friend, her mother, had died and she never really had anyone to replace her. Her father had died several years earlier so it had just left the two of them.

No doubt they struggled to take care of the house and rather large yard. It would have been a chore, even without her handicap.

Initially I admit my motives for wanting to help clean up her yard and do things like cutting the lawn, repair the fence and other similar projects, was because I was selfish and wanted it to look nice next door to our house.

Over time, I was finally able to convince her to let me help clean up the yard. This was no small task. Her mother had planted the old Lilac stand. The BBQ pit was built by her father; the same with the old rusted cloths lines that hung so low they almost touched the ground.

The weeds, Creeping Charlie and grass were out of control. I'm still surprised the city hadn't issued a ticket for an ordinance violation.

It was agreed that the cleanup would begin. I told her I would take care of arranging it all. She didn't have to worry or need to deal with any of it.

I contacted a local guy and hired him to bring his skid loader and dump truck over along with a chainsaw.

Promptly at 7:00AM we started.

I assumed Ms. D was at work as I never heard or saw her and all the window shades were down.

I keep busy coordinating the job. There was just the two of us, the owner of the equipment and myself.

After the third dump-truck load of old junk, tree stumps, branches, concrete, flower pots, and cloths line posts, it was time to tackle the Lilac bushes.

This old stand of Lilacs was overgrown and had outlived their usefulness. This stand was about 50 years old. It hardly even bloomed anymore. But it invoked very fond memories of Ms. D's mother. She had planted it. Her mother was a great gardener she tells me.

The operator of the skid loader was struggling to get the Lilac roots to come out. He suggested we cut them off so we could get a chain around them and pull them out by the roots. Having done this many times in the past when I used to operate equipment I agreed.

He got his chainsaw out and handed it to me. "Start cutting!" he ordered, "We don't have all day; the landfill closes at 4:00PM. There are a lot of lilacs here." He then got back into the skid loader. I stood and looked at the chain saw. He opened the cab door and said "What are you waiting for"?

"Oh nothing I was just looking at how this chain saw works", I responded.

"Well, start it up and get cutting"

Panic almost set in. Certainly he had seen that I had a deformed hand, right?

Obviously he could see I had no real functional use of it.

To this day I don't really know if he did or not.

Suddenly I reached over, stepped on the bottom of the chainsaw and pulled the cord and started it, using my one good hand. I then clamped on to the handle with my deformed hand and ran the trigger with my other hand and started sawing the Lilacs.

I was shaking so hard I almost dropped the chain saw.

I couldn't let him see this.

It's a good thing I turned and faced the other way with my back towards him.

That way he couldn't see the tears running down my cheek.

My hand was so sore and weak it just throbbed. It had swelled up so much my glove barely fit.

I keep at it.

The last Lilac tree was finally cut and loaded in the dump truck. All the machinery was shut off and he was preparing to load up the skid loader and his chainsaw.

He asked me why my eyes were all red. I said, "Oh, I have major allergies." It was all I could think of.

He then finished loading his equipment and thanked me, handed me the bill and left.

I thanked him. He has no idea how thankful I was.

None.

I sat down and cried like a baby.

It wasn't because of my allergies.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 3-2-2007)


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Bad allergies*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks Dusty.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Bad allergies*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, I am enjoying thee more than the other LumberJocks will ever realize. Keep 'em coming, Mate!


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Bad allergies*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Wow my allergies are acting up too!


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Bad allergies*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


mine too, Dennis.. mine too


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## RobS (Aug 11, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Bad allergies*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks! I had to wait for allergy season in Texas to read this!  Just read the first 10 chapters, very interesting and thought provoking.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*What happened to Ms. D*

I could hardly sleep that night, from what I can remember. In fact sleeping was the last thing on my mind. I felt awaken. I had not felt that good since the accident.

I felt alive.

I was in so much pain. My hand was so swollen and painful the next morning I could hardly stand it.

I never felt so good.

I could hardly wait to see Ms. D and see how she like her newly cleaned up yard. I was so proud and excited.

It had been close to a week, since I had heard or seen Ms. D. I was getting concerned. The Drapes were still down. There was no answer when I knocked on the door.

I was worried.

I had no-one I could contact as she was all alone. No family. No friends that I knew of.

She was alone.

I was feeling the same not knowing what to do next.

copy right all rights reserved D.Jerzak 3/2/07


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *What happened to Ms. D*
> 
> I could hardly sleep that night, from what I can remember. In fact sleeping was the last thing on my mind. I felt awaken. I had not felt that good since the accident.
> 
> ...


keep them comming.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *What happened to Ms. D*
> 
> I could hardly sleep that night, from what I can remember. In fact sleeping was the last thing on my mind. I felt awaken. I had not felt that good since the accident.
> 
> ...


I sense something big is about to unfold. Love this saga, Dusty!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *What happened to Ms. D*
> 
> I could hardly sleep that night, from what I can remember. In fact sleeping was the last thing on my mind. I felt awaken. I had not felt that good since the accident.
> 
> ...


Stay tuned haven't even got to "this old crack house" yet.

What I have written so far is the past leading up to "This "Old Crack House". I felt I had to go back in time and give a history to better help others understand where I have been and where I am now.

Its been quite a journey. Thank you all for allowing me to have you as passengers.

Your been so supportative and encourageing and will never know how healing it has been to share this story.

I have opened up myself for you all to see all my flaws, shortcomings, vulnerabilities and naive parts, even when it makes me look silly and stupid.

So be it, its the naked truth, and a look inside me.

Its real.

In short it is me - what you see is what you get - no more no less.

Just me.

I remain humbled.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *What happened to Ms. D*
> 
> I could hardly sleep that night, from what I can remember. In fact sleeping was the last thing on my mind. I felt awaken. I had not felt that good since the accident.
> 
> ...


oh no.. Not Ms. D.

edge of my seat-again. still


----------



## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *What happened to Ms. D*
> 
> I could hardly sleep that night, from what I can remember. In fact sleeping was the last thing on my mind. I felt awaken. I had not felt that good since the accident.
> 
> ...


Don't start crying again, Debbie, this is an Adventure, not some crying story. This is one of Drama and suspense. Here, have a tissue…

Dusty? This isn't right. You can't just leave us hanging like this after such a brief chapter.


----------



## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *What happened to Ms. D*
> 
> I could hardly sleep that night, from what I can remember. In fact sleeping was the last thing on my mind. I felt awaken. I had not felt that good since the accident.
> 
> ...


Dusty, My life has been saved by people willing to share their stories with me. So I sit here listening. I understand that getting to follow this adventure is a great honor for me. A part of my healing as well. Thank You.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *What happened to Ms. D*
> 
> I could hardly sleep that night, from what I can remember. In fact sleeping was the last thing on my mind. I felt awaken. I had not felt that good since the accident.
> 
> ...


real life; real stories; real pain; real healing. 
I have Joe's (my husband) story online and every time I think that it is time to delete it I get an email from someone saying how helpful/healing it was for them, reading about what my family went through… 
So now, whenever I find it fitting I don't hesitate to tell the tale - it usually results in someone opening up and sharing their own personal pain, a step towards their own healing.

Keep the story coming…


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*There is movement next door*

This was day six. No movement seen next door or any word from Ms. D. I was concerned. I decided if I didn't hear from her by the end of the day I would call the police and have them check things out.

In the mean time, I was keeping busy watering my roses and the new grass I had seeded in her yard after the major cleanup and lilac removal.

I was walking between our houses when I heard what I thought was in a faint voice, someone calling my name. I looked around but didn't see anyone. I kept working and heard it again. I stopped and looked back towards where I thought I heard the noise. This time I heard a window sliding up. In a faint voice I heard, "Dusty".

I walked towards Ms. D's window. She was standing in the window in her night gown looking obviously very ill. I immediately ask, "Are you ok?"

She replied, "No I am very sick. I have been in bed all week and this is the first time I have been able to stand up and do anything except a quick trip to the bathroom."

When I asked what the matter was, she said that she suffered from really bad migraines and other things that she would explain when she felt better. She asked if I could go to grocery store and get her a few items like some fruit and club soda. I assured her that I would. She then said, "I will pay you when you come back. Right now I don't know where my purse is."

"No problem," I said, and then left for the store.

I returned a short time later and knocked on her door. She barely cracked the door and reached for the bag of groceries I had picked up. She thanked me.

I was shocked by what I had seen and could smelled coming from the house.

She said she would pay me after she felt better and found her purse. She asked if that was alright. I nodded and she then shut the door.

I stood there for a moment in a state of shock.

I was so taken back I sought out my business partner and told him what I had seen through the door.

All he said is "don't get involved it's not any of your business".

It bothered me; a lot.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 3-01-2007)


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *There is movement next door*
> 
> This was day six. No movement seen next door or any word from Ms. D. I was concerned. I decided if I didn't hear from her by the end of the day I would call the police and have them check things out.
> 
> ...


oh I've read the chapters out of turn….

Poor Ms D !!!


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *There is movement next door*
> 
> This was day six. No movement seen next door or any word from Ms. D. I was concerned. I decided if I didn't hear from her by the end of the day I would call the police and have them check things out.
> 
> ...


What? Dead bodies…the missing postman…o no! IT can't be…


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *There is movement next door*
> 
> This was day six. No movement seen next door or any word from Ms. D. I was concerned. I decided if I didn't hear from her by the end of the day I would call the police and have them check things out.
> 
> ...


It was the quick trip to the bathroom on day 6. The other five she was stuck in bed.


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *There is movement next door*
> 
> This was day six. No movement seen next door or any word from Ms. D. I was concerned. I decided if I didn't hear from her by the end of the day I would call the police and have them check things out.
> 
> ...


No wonder he couldn't mention what he saw… ewwww !


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *There is movement next door*
> 
> This was day six. No movement seen next door or any word from Ms. D. I was concerned. I decided if I didn't hear from her by the end of the day I would call the police and have them check things out.
> 
> ...


postman? I thought it was her mother's body…. you know, her best friend/only friend…


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *There is movement next door*
> 
> This was day six. No movement seen next door or any word from Ms. D. I was concerned. I decided if I didn't hear from her by the end of the day I would call the police and have them check things out.
> 
> ...


6 days of not going to the bathroom.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*She planted the seed*










Ms.D decided to go ahead with building the shed. I warned her about the carpenter but she said "I trust you will see I don't get taken". I was pleased that she trusted me but I wasn't so sure about the carpenter. There was still something about him I couldn't put my finger on other than, at times, he was a greedy shellfish jerk.

That's not a crime it's his personality.

Ms. D seemed so excited to have her shed built. She explained to me it was her mother's dream to have an outdoor shed in which to put all her garden tools. It felt like it was going to be kind of a monument built in her memory. I knew Ms. D and her mom had been very close.

I was holding my breath that she wasn't going to be disappointed.

I picked up all the materials and stacked them in the yard next to where she wanted to have the shed built. She sat in a lawn chair watching every move. I decided to make her part of the project. I wanted to give her a job to keep her busy so that I didn't feel like she was constantly staring at me. I knew she was would be sitting in that chair until the project was done, when she brought out a jug of lemonade with one glass.

It seemed for every board I pulled off the bed of my pickup she had 3 questions. Like, "Where does that board go" and "What do you use that for?" I figured the only way I would get any work done was to find a job for her.

I stopped and got a clipboard with a pencil. At the same time I brought over my two shop buddies, my basset hounds, who were very unhappy being separated from me on the other side of the fence. They were used to me being with them.

I then gave Ms. D a couple of jobs. One was to check off bill of materials. As I unloaded the material I explained what each item was. The second was to babysit the hounds. I tied them to her lawn chair. The hounds and Ms D instantly fell in love with each other. Before I knew it, she was off to get them a bowl of water and some treats. She was so busy she forgot about me. I finished unloading the truck in no time. I could see that I was going to have to find something for her to do, again the next day, when the project started.

I asked her if she would mind watching the hounds while we worked on her shed. I explained that they would be much happier if they could at least see me. She seemed genuinely touched and said, "Oh yes!"

The shed construction went off with out a hitch. Everything seemed to go smoothly. I had all the right materials and they were all staged so it makes it easier for the carpenter.

I am a quick study, remember?

The project came off with out a hitch. Ms. D was very pleased and started to name off other things she would like to do. The list included things like, a new patio sink and storage cupboards for inside her home.

She then asked me why I didn't do the work myself and why I hired a carpenter for these projects.

The only answer, other than the fact that my carpentry experience was limited to high-school shop and the experience I gained growing up on a farm where I built our own buildings, was that I had a handicap.

Somehow this seemed to ring hollow now, with here having a deformed hand also; she seemed to get by.

The next best excuse I could come up with was I don't have the tools or shop to work in.

She said, "Buy them. You could make a shop out of your over sized garage."

I hate it whenever someone is not only right, but are so practical and simple in the solutions they offer.

The next excuse I had available was I had just finished buying and remodeling my house and didn't have any money left over to spend on tools. She said, "OK, I will buy the tools and we can trade out different projects for them until they are paid for".

I must admit this idea got my attention.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 3-03-2007)


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *She planted the seed*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


she's a sweetheart!!!

You had me worried in the last chapter-i thought she was… gulp…. written out of the story!!

Great plan re: keeping her busy. I can see her heart glowing with excitement and your starting to sparkle with the thoughts of possibilities…

and then what???


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *She planted the seed*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


So what happened in the house? Dusty get back to your keyboard!


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *She planted the seed*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


It's not my fault I'm a lumberjock, my friend made me do it. He came and got me 500 miles away and brought me back and gave me free room and board and after three projects he wanted me to build his kitchen cabinets and when i tried Dusty's excuse of "I don't have the tools.", he said "I'll buy you whatever you need.

You're right Dusty, it's hard when someone comes up with a counter for every excuse you try to give them.

Now, if I can only figure out why my planes don't work (The manually operated ones) I can't figure out if they are just cheap Stanley P.O.S.'s or if they are just too dull)

OWWW!! There was some dried glue on the inside of my arm from one of the glue up's from this morning and it pulled out the hair when I yanked it off. (sit's rubbing inside of arm like a girl)

*Yeah, Dusty, back to the keyboard*


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *She planted the seed*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Hey Wait a minute … those arent Ms. D's fingers in the picture. What are you tryin to pull?

And that looks like Marijuana…. somebody's gonna call the cops.
(Not that I'd know what marijuana looks like.)


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *She planted the seed*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Obi:

The rest of us are all wearing long sleeve shirts, and you think we are going to feel sorry for you because you got glue on your arm.

Except Don and its too hot to go to his shop.


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *She planted the seed*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


This part of the story really touched me. I started reading this story this morning and can't believe how much I've read so far. I'm not big on reading, I have health problems that cause fatigue problems and am dyslexic; so I see you as a good writer to have kept me reading like this. I was touched because she offered to buy you the tools and the fact that you both changed each others lifes for the better, that you helped her and she got you thinking about woodworking again.

Diane


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*He called me a cripple*










A friend who I met on my bus route, a master plumber and electrician, was, according to him, recently "sentenced" to a supervisory role, due a small series of strokes. He was no longer able to work directly in the field practicing his trades. Although grateful to at least still be able to go to work, it was evident he was struggling with not being able to do what he loved and had done for the past 30 years.

He knew I was doing some remodeling on my house and had a few other projects in the works.

He had a very good buddy he wanted me to meet, who recently had fallen on hard times as a result of his divorce and thought he and I would get along. He figured we would have a lot in common as his buddy had bought and remodeled his own house. He told me he was very concerned about his mental and emotional wellbeing; that he was really down-and-out. He explained that he had been suffering from major depression. He felt it would do him some good to get out and get involved with a project to help him through the tough period he was experiencing.

I told him to give him my telephone number and have him call me and that I would invite him up to see the progress of the renovations. He said he had a better idea. He was having a barbeque on the weekend and that I should come over so that he could introduce me to 
his friend.

That weekend I attended his barbeque and met his buddy, Sid.

Sid seemed very quiet and polite. It was hard to carry on a conversation with Sid because he had both a very deep, distinct accent and seemed very reluctant to talk much about himself, or anything else for that matter. I couldn't tell whether he was just a very quiet and private person or if he just didn't like me.

Never-the-less, I invited him up to the house and gave him my phone number and address. I figured I would never hear from him again.

A couple weeks later, I was in the house taking a little cat-nap after working on the yard all morning. I had lain down just a few minutes as I try to only sleep 20 minutes at a time when napping. I awoke from my nap and went back outside and started working again when I noticed a note on my windshield.

It was a note from Sid, he had been there just a few minutes before. I had just missed him. He indicated on the note that he would return sometime later in the week. He had stopped by to see the project.

I went back to work.

I was slowly learning to use my hand. It was a slow, painful process, but I could see progress. Some days went better than others. I keep at it regardless, determined now more than ever, to overcome the shortcomings caused by having only one functional hand.

My next door neighbor Ms D had asked me to ask the carpenter if he would be interested in building an outdoor deck and some other things. I was very reluctant to ask because of my experiences with him. I explained this to her but she insisted anyways.

So, I asked him to submit a written proposal and bid, including a materials list, amount due and the payment terms. I did this for her protection. Besides, like I said, I learn fast and had learned a few things since my first encounter with the carpenter.

While working in the yard the carpenter drove up my driveway in his old pickup. He had finished the bid and was bringing it to me for Ms. D.

I also had a few other jobs going, for which I wanted a bid for. Perhaps I was over-confident. That's the danger with having had some success in doing a few remodeling projects plus the great progress I was making using my hand.

When I look back, I now have to admit that it might have been more false confidence. Just because I had coordinated a few jobs and had some success using my hand, I wanted to run before I walked.

He went over the job and explained it all to me like I was a kindergartner. I had a dysfunctional hand, not a case of severe brain damage. I clearly remember thinking that he had such a condescending nature.

He pointed out that because this bid included a lot of complex tasks like building kitchen cabinets, removing walls and installing headers, he was going to need someone experienced to help him.

I had been making great progress with my hand and eagerly offered my help again. When I offered to help him build the shed, he said, "You're pretty much a cripple from what I can see, and pretty worthless to me, I need someone I can trust on the other side of the wall to lift and hold the rafters. So, I will just bring my son."

I nodded like I understood his logic. I didn't.

He then turned and left. As he was walking down the driveway he glanced back over his shoulder and said, "I'll need a couple weeks notice to schedule this job; give me enough advance notice."

It was like someone had kicked me square in the gut, after he said what he did about me being a cripple. I did my best to try not to show how it affected me. I don't know how well I did at that. He didn't seem to care anyway.

It stung.

Hurt.

I must really be a glutton for punishment because here I am asking again if I can help him.

I so wanted to prove that I could do it. At first, I wanted to prove it to myself.

Now, I was going to prove it to him.

All I wanted was a chance. It was obvious I wasn't going to get it, so the next best thing was to learn every thing I possible could.

I was doing this.

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 3-04-2007)


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *He called me a cripple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


ah it is the CARPENTER's dead body in the neighbour's home!

lemons from which you are about to make lemonade!!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *He called me a cripple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...




not telling stay tuned… but trust me some days I did think about….........


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *He called me a cripple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


not telling..
aaaargh…

evil, I say… evil !!!


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *He called me a cripple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I just played catch up, & read 5 chapters. I've been busy looking at some of the new members things, that's why. Keep them coming Rusty, it's a great story, turning into a novel.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *He called me a cripple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I keep thinking I've worked with this carpenter.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *He called me a cripple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


The carpenter must have relatives all over the country!


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## nailbanger2 (Oct 17, 2009)

Dusty said:


> *He called me a cripple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I know this is an old story, but it's new to me. I have people say "I'll be helping you" all the time, trying to get the price down. No problem, I tell them. Then I explain what they will be doing (mostly helper's jobs) and they say "fiine".

I have only had one customer, a doctor, actually do these jobs. All others are always busy with something that is more important than my time. I would have been ecstatic had you been one of my customers, and had actually helped, and took an interest.

BTW, the doctor does some pretty fair work himself nowadays, still friends, but only occasionally a customer. The last is what I'm most proud of.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The new shop*










I thought a lot about what Ms. D. had to say. I was uncomfortable with trading out work in exchange for her buying the tools. I though it might work out good for us if I bought the tools, built the projects and then just charged for the materials plus a small charge for overhead. This way I would gain some experience yet cover some of my costs while setting up my new shop.

I was excited!

I had been doing more and more with my hand. It still was very painful but I pretty much came to the conclusion that my hand was going to hurt regardless if I used it to build things or not. One thing I had at the end of the day, even if I was in a lot of pain, was a sense of self-worth and accomplishment. That feeling helped overcome the pain I felt from using the hand. I also was becoming very creative and resourceful and that gave me hope. For the first time in years I felt something that I had missed; pride.

The first project I took on was her wooden fence that had fallen down. I tore the rest of the fence down and built new sections in the driveway outside my 'new' shop.

You would have thought I just built the Empire State Building.

I have no doubt that if you were to examine it closely you could find flaws. Ok, maybe you didn't have to look so close, they were there to see. It really didn't matter to me because I was so proud that I did it myself with my own hands.

I knew the mistakes were there. It didn't matter. I knew how to correct them and if I ever made another one, what I would do different. The important thing at the time was I completed the project.

Most important, I learned a lot and it excited me, and got me interested in doing more. I realize now, when I look back, that it ignited a fire. Maybe the fire always existed, and all that I needed was a little stoking and some encouragement and someone who wasn't going to accept excuses.

My excitement and enthusiasm for woodworking was overflowing. There is a tendency to push it, when you learn something new that you enjoy and haven't previously been able to do. I have no doubt I was pushing. I was no longer content with just managing a project. With my new shop, tools, and new found confidence, I wanted to do more and more. I wanted to learn. I was so hungry to learn. I watched everything the carpenter did. I read up on everything I could get my hands on relating to remodeling and woodworking. All I needed was a chance. That time couldn't come soon enough for me.

I was about to find out.

The time came, way too soon and certainly not on my terms

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 3-06-2007)


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The new shop*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I'm thinking hollywood.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The new shop*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


"The Dusty Story, How One Man Overcame Adversity and the Pride of Accomplishment"

Summer 2008


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The new shop*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Keep them coming Dusty.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The pluged sink *










Over the summer I worked hard on getting Ms. D's yard in order. I installed a sprinkler system in her yard and garden. Her garden was her pride and joy. This was her connection to the past, her close relationship with her departed mother, her best friend. I came to find out that, other than some acquaintances from work, she was her only friend.

Every day, I made it a point to take the dogs over to her house and have a cup of coffee with her. She really looked forward to this. She would always have ice tea and some treats for this time. We would just sit and visit. Over time I got to know her well. She was still somewhat guarded but had really come to trust me. All she had in her life was me and my business partner along with the dogs. Her brother, with whom she had little to do, lived at a considerable distance.

Every day she would comment on my flowers. Talking about how beautiful they were, she would individually review each group. I told her next year I would plant her as many flowers as she wanted. That so excited her that she talked about it ever day I came over. She had been struggling with taking care of the garden. I bought a tiller and tilled it for her after I tilled mine. She was very grateful. We had already taken over her mowing and trimming because her bad knee kept her from mowing it. Besides, she simply couldn't keep up, since the addition of a sprinkler system.

The biggest reason I installed this sprinkler was that I was putting one in my yard and garden. Doing two at once meant less time and cost than doing them individually. I saved a lot of money by purchasing the pipe in volume and renting the trencher once, etcetera. I also knew she was struggling to move all the hoses and keep up with the watering in the garden. The sprinkler solved this. She was beaming ear-to-ear because she didn't have to worry about the watering and her garden was doing so much better since it was getting water on a regular basis. I really think that tending her garden was one of the few reasons she had to get up in the morning.

With no family, or friends, she didn't go anywhere except to church. She was very conscious of her appearance. Handicapped and somewhat overweight, the only thing she ever did, besides sitting in her back yard, related to her church. She never missed. She would faithfully attend each week but would always return right after the service. She never stayed, or seemed to get involved with any of the other activities. When I asked her about this she changed the subject. I never ask again. I got the message and pretty much figured out it was because she felt ashamed of her appearance.

Every day it was the same routine. I would bring the dogs over and have a cup of coffee. When it was time to get back to work or go home I would began to get up and she would start a new conservation or ask a question so I would have to stay a little longer. She insisted I leave the hounds with her until I got home from my afternoon split-shift driving the bus. She thought it was unnecessary to leave the dogs alone when she was more than willing to watch them. She also had ample treats to give them, as I discovered later. No wonder when I got up to leave the hounds never moved. They knew a good thing.

It had been over a year since we lived in the house. Even with the daily visits and the nightly walks with the hounds, after which she insisted we stop back to have a Popsicle, we were never inside her house. Nor were we invited. She keeps the drapes pulled and doors tightly closed.

On day, while having our daily coffee and small talk, she asked me if I could replace a sink and how much would it cost. I said I thought I could figure it out. I also told her that, in the event I ran into trouble, I had a buddy who was a master plumber who could come and help me out. I asked her if the sink leaking. She explained that it was old, leaked, and was prone to plugging. She said over the years it had started rotting around the top and the old Formica had started to lift. I asked for some details as to how the sink was built into the cupboards, but she didn't have any idea. I suggested that I would take a look at it for her if she liked. She responded with a dismissive, "Yeah, maybe someday I will have to have you do that." She then changed subjects.

She would bring up the sink every once-in-a-while, or I would inquire. But it always ended up the same way; she would change the subject and drop it.

This went on for several months.

It was now late fall and I was putting away everything for the winter and winterizing the sprinkler system so it wouldn't freeze. It was cool outside but she came out to sit in here old lawn chair which used to be her mother's, to watch us do the last of the fall yard-work.

After we had finished the work she said that she had a leak in the sink and the drain was plugged and wondered if we could take a look at it. I agreed. My business partner was sitting with us having a hot chocolate that she given him and he suggested we do it now before the weather turned bad incase it involved the outside sewer drain.

She seemed a bit anxious about this. She also appeared uncomfortable. She started making excuses, "Well, the house is a mess and as soon as I get it picked up a bit I will have you look at it."

I asked her how bad the leak was. She said that the water was dripping pretty badly from the faucet. When I asked about the drain being plugged she said that she had been adding Drano every day and by the end of the day it would go down in the sink. I told her that she shouldn't keep adding Drano for a lot of reasons not to mention if we had to take it apart or get a plumber it was hazardous to deal with the harsh chemicals that are in Drano. I also told here that the fumes over time were something to be concerned about. She said it did smell quite pungent.

I told here I thought I should, for her safety, take a look. She reluctantly agreed, and offered numerous excuses for the condition of her house. She explained that it had been hard to keep up with it because of her knee. I told her I understood and didn't really care; that it's her house and it is she, not us, who has to live in it.

We got up and started heading for the door. All the time she was making excuses for her house-keeping.

She opened the door. It would only open part way. It seemed something was blocking it. A broom had fallen down and kept the door from opening up enough for her to get in. I offered to help. She reluctantly let me. There was a foul odor coming from inside. I got the door open and stepped inside.

I was shocked, indeed stunned, from what I saw. The smell was overwhelming.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

There was barely a narrow path heading towards another room. The piles of clothes, furniture, food, papers, mail and everything else you could imagine, were shoulder high. The smell was almost unbearable.

I realized right then and there that this wasn't a nightmare, it was real. This was a garbage-house. It was one of those houses that, ever-so-often, you would hear about on TV, or read about in the newspaper. But, here I was, standing in one.

I really couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was even less sure what, if anything, I could do about it.

She was standing behind me and openly embarrassed said, "I've fallen behind on cleaning since my mother's death. I have suffered deep depression and am under medical care. I have not been able to do much because of all the medication I am on. I just feel overwhelmed and am so ashamed to have you see this."

I assured her it was ok.

It wasn't.

But at this point there was no sense in embarrassing or reacting in such a way that it would cause her to loose trust in us. I was not sure how, but somehow, right then and there, I decided I was going to help her. I had no idea where to begin.

None!

Worse yet it was clearly not safe to remain in the house.

I remember thinking, almost praying, "Oh, dear Lord, what do I do?" I looked at my business partner and he just stood there dumbfounded. He was trying not to gag. I could see this.

I remember thinking, "What now; what am I getting into?"

(Protected by copy write, all rights reserved ,D.Jerzak 3-06-2007)


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The pluged sink *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Wow. I remember helping my grandfather at my first job. He ran an auction house and we would go to peoples homes to pick up stuff for the sale. Sometimes we would come across this condition…hard to understand. Hard not to judge.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The pluged sink *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


You are right. You lay a newspaper down and then a box on top of it and then you fill the box and add another box. Before long you are in aisleways between boxes and things that were put in them would start to deteriate.

I can see how it can happen. Look at my shop!!


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The pluged sink *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, this story probably goes some way to explaining why the pictures taken in your house look like a set-up for Better Homes & Gardens.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The pluged sink *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


yup.. can't judge. We haven't walked her life, in her shoes, with the challenges and the gifts that she has been given. 
She is what she is; the house is what it is-- doesn't mean it can't (or shouldn't be) changed… but it is what it is. 
Poor Ms D. My heart goes out to her-can you imagine the pain she felt by having someone come into her home? She is being VERY brave and it sure says a lot about the respect she has for Dusty and his partner. Yup. Sure does.


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The pluged sink *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I agree with what Debbie said. I recently needed three cleaning lady visits to help me catch up with some of my cleaning due to some health challenges. It was hard to let this lady in to see my mess. My place looks much better now but it is still somewhat cluttered.

I'm so glad you were so kind to this neighbor of yours. I hope we all have more neighbors like you.

Diane


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Do you have a flash light?*










I had no idea where to begin. I was still in a state of disbelief. I was trying not to judge, but I admit it was hard. The overwhelming question in my mind was how anyone could live like this. I also wondered how it could get this bad. I decided that answers to these questions weren't going to help me right now with the problem at hand.

The sink was plugged.

It was hard to only focus on this. The overwhelming conditions surrounding me made this next to impossible to do. I simply had to look past this and focus only on the plugged drain. It was the only way I could see out of this mess.

I asked Ms D for a flashlight that I needed for looking under the cupboard and to use in the basement to check out the drain. She said she had one but wasn't sure where it was. There was no way I could imagine trying to find a flashlight in this mess. I decided to go back to my shop and get my own.

My business partner, TJ, said he would come with me to help me find the flashlight. So, we left the house telling Ms. D that we would be back soon.

Once we got outside we walked towards our shop in total silence. Disbelief was still the overwhelming feeling.

Neither of us was sure we still wouldn't suddenly take to being ill and have a case of the dry heaves, or worse yet, start throwing up within eyesight of Ms. D. My partner asked the question that I knew was coming, but for which, I wasn't sure of the answer.

"What are we going to do?" he questioned.

After a moment of thought I said, "Nothing." He retorted in a voice of disbelief, "What? … What do you mean nothing?"

I answered, "Just that, nothing." I tried to explain to him that this wasn't the time to ask why or to react. It was time to be calm, not to judge and to just do the best we could with what we had to work with. "That is a start," I said, "We will go from there. There is no road-map for this problem showing us the way, but we will find the way, for her and ourselves."

I have no idea how or why I said what I did, or how I had the strength or discernment to do so; none.

We got the flashlights and returned. I tried to open up the sink cupboard doors but there was so much in front of them and they were so pack full of clutter, I couldn't. After considerable time moving a lot of stuff I was able to gain entry to the drain below the sink.

There were signs that the sink had been leaking for some time. There was evidence that the floorboards had started rotting out. I needed to go down to the basement to investigate this further.

I was not prepared for what I saw.

Not even in my wildest imagination could I image how bad the things at which I was looking could be. The smell was overwhelming. The sewer and drain had backed up and there was a substantial puddle of sewage on the basement floor next to the floor drain. It was clearly from the toilet. I almost lost it right there. I have no idea why I didn't. TJ couldn't even come further down than the top of the steps. He left for upstairs.

My experience from doing sewer-work for all those years taught me how to deal with the smell. I also knew that the gases could be dangerous so I needed to immediately open up the windows to air out the fumes.

While airing out the basement I went back upstairs and told Ms D what I had found. I also asked how long she noticed the drain backing up and if she had noticed the sewer smell. She told me that the drain had been acting up for a few months but that she just added Drano ever day and by morning it was better.

I nodded. What else could I say or do. I explained that I would have to get a professional plumber to come in as the problem was a way bigger than I could handle. She appeared very reluctant at this development. I explained that it had to be done due to the the health-danger. I told here that I would help get it cleaned up because I didn't think any plumber would come into the house in this condition. I insisted that she not add anymore Drano, and to conserve on the use of water or so it wouldn't keep backing up. I told her that I would be over early in the morning and we could decide then, how to best proceed. She acted very relieved,but I could see she was visibly shaken, upset, and ashamed.

I reassured her everything would be alright. I had no idea how, or if this was going to be the case, it simply was the only response I could give at this time. However, I think it was as close to a bold faced lie as one could get. I simply had no idea, whether or not, if things were going to be alright. I just acted as though they were.

I simply went on faith.

I didn't sleep a wink. In my mind, I replayed ever possible scenario to this problem. In conclusion, the only thing I could come up with was that she was in over her head and that she needed help. I decided that she was suffering from some type of illness besides depression. I was also very concerned about her continued welfare. If the city found out about this, they would surely condemn the house and make here move out until it was fixed up and cleaned.

This was going to be no small task. What had I gotten into?

The next morning I returned to her house with a plan. I told her that we needed to help her get things back in order. I didn't blame or point fingers. I merely offered solutions.

She, in a quiet voice replied, "I realize things got out of hand. Since the death of my mother I have battled terrible depression and have been under a doctor's care for a long time. I just kind of gave up, I guess, and shut out the whole world."

The tears started to roll down her cheek. I never said a word and let her continue talking. She explained, as she had done many times in the past, that her mother had been her best and only real friend. When she died she was truly left alone but couldn't adjust to the loneliness. She told me that she gained over 100 pounds, became depressed and withdrawn. She had just stopped living for all practical purposes. She was taking over twenty-nine different prescriptions. She didn't even know if they were working. In fact, she thought they weren't very effective and had randomly quitted taking some of them to see if she would feel any better. It had been over six years since she had anyone over to the house. Since her mother's death, she hadn't been in her bedroom. She merely closed the door. Every once in a while she would open it up long enough to shove in some more stuff.

She then began crying and reached out to me and pleaded, "Please help me, don't give up on me. I will try harder; please don't leave me alone!"

Looking her in the eye, I responded, "We are here for you, to help you. We aren't here to judge you. This situation is what it is, but it's soon going to be in the past, it's a new beginning starting today. We will not abandon you or leave you. We will help you the best we can and know how.

But secretly, I wasn't sure how.

I simply was on auto-pilot.

Some might call it faith.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Do you have a flash light?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty… you are making my heart ache … again!!
Poor Ms D (and poor you-the Universe chose YOU to be the angel.. well, I guess that isn't a "poor you" then… ).

Angel Dusty…. what's next?? !!!!


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Do you have a flash light?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Don't bother him Debbie, he's busy.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Do you have a flash light?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


oh sorry, Obi.. but i did hold back the tears.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Do you have a flash light?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


One foot in front of the other. I think my allegies are acting up again.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Do you have a flash light?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


You're a good man Dusty.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Do you have a flash light?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


How I would love to have you live next door to me - I could think of all sorts of projects in which to get you involved.* LOL*


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Do you have a flash light?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I hope the first is not cleaning out your kitchen and dining room Don!


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Do you have a flash light?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I agree with Don must be so nice to have you as a neighbor, wish you were my neighbor.

Diane


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*










Stopping short of tearing down the house there weren't a lot of options. Ms. D couldn't stay living in that house without a sink and water, not even considering the unlivable condition of the house. Although it was only a part of the problem, we needed to get the plumbing fixed and fast. Over time, the floor had rotted away from the slow but steady leak. Besides, this all was a moot point considering no plumber would even enter that house in the condition it was.

In as non judgmental way as I could be, I was simply straightforward with Ms. D. I informed her that we needed to get this cleaned up as soon as possible following which I would call a plumber. "We will help you as we promised," I told her. She nodded affirmatively. She seemed embarrassed, ashamed, was withdrawn and very humbled. I could tell this was very stressful on her.

I ordered a twenty cubic yard dumpster. It was to be delivered later that morning. This was only the beginning.

After four of these dumpsters and several arguments, we started to make progress. We hadn't even started on the upstairs. It was so hard for Ms. D to let us throw anything away. She wanted to hold onto everything. It occurred to me that she had never properly grieved the loss of mother, her best and only friend. It seemed she had saved everything as if it was all that she had left. She didn't want to let go of anything. This was very understandable but not healthy. I simply had to ignore the pleas to keep everything. Although not easy, but had to be done.

It was then that we decided to do some much-needed remodeling of the house in which she had lived for over sixty years. It was twenty-five years since it had last been painted. The paint was so faded and brown-looking, I couldn't tell what color it was suppose to be. She told me that the carpet was nearly thirty years old. The kitchen appliances were not even in working order and so old that they couldn't be repaired.

We agreed that we would paint the interior of the house. We also decided to replace the kitchen cupboards, sink, and appliances, take up the old carpet and refinish the hardwood floors. Her house is rather small only eleven hundred square feet. It was built in the early 1940's. It was a typical story and a half. The house consisted of one bathroom and three bedrooms on the main level, and one bedroom upstairs. There was very little kitchen space and limited cupboards. The kitchen only measured eight by twelve feet. A wall separated the kitchen from the dining room. It was hard to fit even a table and four chairs in because the room was only eight by ten feet.

The walls were the old plaster and lath construction and most were cracked with some of the plaster falling off. I talked Ms. D into taking the wall out between the kitchen and dining-room which would open up the area to let in more light and give the appearance of more space. This would also allow her more freedom of movement with her cane and the walker that she used sometimes. I knew that, over time, her knee and hip would not get better. More than likely, she would end up only using the walker and would require that additional space.

I suggested we open up the wall in the dining room and install a large new door with a side panel or a patio door. This not only would give her some much needed natural light, it would enable us to build her an easily accessible deck, right outside. The time was perfect to do this because we had to clean up the mess and strip cupboards and plaster anyway. At first she was resistant to this but with patience and gentle persuasion, she resigned to the idea. 









My final suggestion was a deck. I knew that she loved the outdoors. She cherished the time she was able to sit out on her cement patio that we had built for her when we cleaned up the yard. The reason I built this was so she didn't have to sit in the tall grass with all the mosquitoes and bugs. She enjoyed cooking out every night but has to sit and wait for the charcoal to get white and ready to cook on. Not only was this time consuming, she got a lot of nasty bug bites. This would also be good for her to upgrade to a modern gas grill that could sit next to her on the deck. I told her that I felt this would be a huge improvement in convenience.










She just felt overwhelmed and was afraid of change. I assured her we would be with her every step of the way and that the change would be very good for her.

I remember thinking, what am I getting into?

I had no idea, but was about to find out.

Because of the urgent nature of the plumbing problem and fact that the house really wasn't fit for living the way it was, it added to the pressure. I needed to find a plumber that, first off, would agree to come in the house under these conditions and, secondly, would be reliable and not judgmental. It also had to be someone whom I and Ms. D could trust. My friend David who rode my bus, the master plumber and electrician, was the first to come to mind.

He had previously given me a business card and told me to call him if I ever needed help.

Boy, did I need help!

I called him. I was honest and upfront about what I was facing and that I could sure use his help. If he didn't want to get involved I understood and wondered if he knew anyone that I could call to do the plumbing.

He cheerfully replied, "Dusty I would love to help you, but I have to first go to church. My wife Barbara is working today and I can't drive."

He explained that he had had seizures and a small stroke a few years ago and that the state wouldn't allow him to drive. He also informed me that he couldn't lift much and would need some help. He could do the layout, soldering and light work and if I could help he could show me how to do everything while he supervised.

Perfect, I thought, I always wanted to learn plumbing.

He said that if this would work I was to pick him up after church. Giving me his address, he said, "Be at my house at 12 noon."

I had a very warm feeling in my gut. An angel had been delivered.

With my pickup, I arrived in the alley behind David's house a few minutes early. As I turned and drove down the alley I noticed someone sitting on a box in the alley surrounded by tool boxes. It was David. I stopped he greeted me with a hard hand shake and a hug asking me, "How you doing, Brother?"

David appeared excited. We loaded all of his tools and got going. During the drive back to Ms. D's, David explained what happened regarding his stroke and seizure. He was out of work for over a year and was only allowed to work as a supervisor in his trades. I could see the sadness and hear in his voice how much he missed his fellow tradesmen and being out in the field. He told me a number of times how grateful he was that I would help him and give him a chance to work again doing what he loved. He said I maybe not fast anymore but I'm very good at what I do. I assured him that I was the one who was grateful that he would not only do the work, but was willing to teach me. I remember telling him that we made quite a combination. We laughed at the fact that I had only one good hand and he had his medical problems. This didn't seem to deter us the least bit. He suggested we start our own business and call it, "The Odd Couple Plumbers". We had a good laugh.

We got to Ms D. house and I introduced David to her and they seemed to hit it off right away. One thing that I think really helped was that both of them were close to same age and David confided in her about his stroke and seizures. She was immediately relaxed with him.

David looked over the whole mess and told me what needed to be done. It was extensive. He explained that on the first day his goal was simply to get the leak stopped and the drain unplugged in the basement.

We went right to work. He would point out what needed to be done and hand me the tools he had brought to do the work. He watched me like a hawk. Encouraging me and giving me tips on how to complete the tasks at hand. We worked for almost 5 hours but got the drain unplugged and water back on. I took him home. He was so happy and thankful I had asked him to help. He gave me a materials list and told me to pick him up at 6 am next Saturday morning. We had a long day ahead of us.

I couldn't wait.

I could tell, neither could he.

I remember thinking all the time I was working was how thankful I was to have him here.

An angel had been sent and arrived.

I was so grateful.

It seemed everything was falling in place.

But, how quickly things can change.

copy write all rights reserved D. Jerzak 03-10-07


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


You just have to put in that final tag line don't you "How quickly things can change"

Very good Dusty.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


"an" angel?? 
So far I see 3 angels at work - each helping each other in one way or another. 
My heart is going to explode before this story comes to its "end".... 
BIG BIG BIG HUGS to you..


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Change! I don't want change…fix it Dusty!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


LumberJocks…. my loyal readers and friends

Thanks so much for all the encourgement and support.

I just put in a couple of pictures I forgot to add them when I first posted the blog.


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF… YOU PUT A GIANT HOLE IN THE SIDE OF THAT POOR OLD LADY'S HOUSE IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER… SHE'S GONNA FREEZE TO DEATH. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? PUT AN INSURANCE POLICY OUT ON HER. NO WONDER SHE WAS RELUCTANT.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I'm thinking the little ol' lady must have a lot of $$$$$$ to have all of this work done-and then Dusty becomes the only person named in her Will. 
OH yah.. all is good!!!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


MsDebbieP,

She inherited the house from her parents. She worked and lived a very simple life. I only charged here for the wages and materials of the subcontractors. The whole job was less that 20,000. She had long ago left ever thing to her church. I was very happy with that arrangement. I never once asked for anything nor did I or do I want anything.

If you give with strings attached your not giving, your loaning it out. When ever you loan out something you stand the risk of not getting it back, That is a set up to be hurt or disappointed from someone else's behaviors. That is a lesson I learned the hard way.

If you give something freely then you have no investment in any return and feel so much better about yourself and what you are about as a person.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


and an angel doesn't charge for miracles!!! 

(no offense was intended)


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I love the tag line too and also feel like you are all helping each other, so great how that worked out.

I am still reading this from this morning when I started on it, I can't stop. I have no plans to leave the house today so why not.

Diane


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plumber "cracked" me up... calling us the odd couple*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


lucky you, Diane-we had to wait a week in-between each chapter!! It was agonizing.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*










It seemed as if we had things under control for the time being. I am always hesitant to make comments like that because it just seems to jinx things.

I had completed the interior demo of the wall between the kitchen and dining room. The carpet had been pulled up and staples removed and the floor sanding had been completed. 
All the interior painting, and plaster repair had been completed. I had picked up all the kitchen cabinets from a local home improvement store along with the custom cut counter top. All of this material had been unpacked and waited for the carpenter to come and began his installation.

This was the only uncertainty I really felt. My carpenter had been very irritable and increasingly more unreliable. I had already made up my mind this would be the last job I would ever hire him to do. I just wanted to get through this one and move on. The kitchen cabinets installation and counter top wasn't that big of a job. I simply had no experience in installing cabinets or counter tops. I also was very aware of the major inconvenience that this was causing Ms. D. She was forced to live amongst this remodeling while it was being done. Time was of critical importance. So far, she seemed to be doing ok with all the commotion, dust, and inconveniences.

All the major work had been completed. This included the plumbing, new electrical and tile floors. All of this work went off with out a hitch. The only real major job left was the kitchen.

After two cancellations and a lot of pleading from me the carpenter finally showed up. He seemed very edgy and in a very foul mood. I just tried to stay out of his way. He seemed much slower than usual doing his work. I just figured he was tired. He finally got the few base cabinets in position and installed. He started on the counter top and all of a sudden I hear a lot of loud cursing. I went to find out what was the matter. He was staring at the custom counter top. He had cut it wrong and it didn't fit. He was blaming me for a wrong measurement. I tried to explain that I just bought a section long enough to cover the top and that it was his job to field-measure, confirm, cut and install.

He wanted to find someone to blame and I guess that person was me.

I suggested he take a break and regain his composure. All this did was set him off. I then became his object of a lecture about how long he had been in the business and didn't need so rookie telling him what to do or how to do it. I could tell this was a no-win situation. I thought maybe if I just left him alone to cool down he would be ok after a little while. After his lecture he said that he needed to get paid that day and also required an advance.

"I have a lot on my mind and need the money," he went on. "You will have to reorder the counter top anyway and when it arrives I will come and install it."

I told him that I felt uncomfortable with giving him an advance and was concerned about any delays. I reaffirmed that it was imperative that we keep things moving forward as it was a major inconvenience for Ms. D to live amongst this construction. He said, "I don't give a ******************** about her! I have my own problems." Then he proceeded to tell me that if he didn't get paid for the day, plus a one thousand dollar advance, he wouldn't return. He also informed me that he would file a lien against the property. From my training as a para-legal, I wasn't worried about the lien as I knew he didn't have firm legal grounds. However I didn't want Ms D to become worried about this or have to go to court to fight it.

At this point I had pretty much decided that no amount of talking was going to do any good. He clearly had made up his mind and was in no mood to discuss it. He didn't even seem rational. I had never seen him so agitated.

As he packed up his tools he demanded, "So what's it going to be?"

"Well I'm unprepared to pay you the complete advance because it's Sunday and I don't have access to that kind of cash," I responded.

"How much do you have?" he said.

"Besides what I own you for today's wages, I might be able to scrape up five hundred dollars," I answered. I suggested that we could meet tomorrow night and he could complete the job and I would have the cash.

He snapped back, "That's a custom counter top and they won't have it for at least a week, maybe two."

I suggested that I could talk to Ms. D and she might be open to picking a stock color that would be in stock. He lashed out and said, "I don't give a damn I told you. What's it going to be?"

I could hear Ms. D coming and I didn't want to get her involved or upset in this problem. I told the carpenter, "Alright, come over to my shop in a few minutes and I will see what, in terms of cash, that I can come up with to pay you.

Against my better judgment I paid him his wages and a five hundred dollar advance. He took the money and left.

Big mistake!

The following day I attempted to call him but only got his voice mail on his cell phone. This was unusual. I left a message for him that Ms. D had chosen a stock color and I had already picked the counter top up and it was ready for installation.

I never heard back. I attempted couple times every day to reach him. No luck. I even left a message with his kids for him to please give me a call.

Nothing!

In the meantime I had almost completed everything else and all that was left was the kitchen. I had been making up excuses for the carpenter whenever Ms. D asked. Time was running out and I simply had no more excuses for him. I was getting very nervous and pretty much determined that I had been taken. Although I don't like to be taken for five hundred dollars, it wouldn't kill me. I was more concerned about being left high and dry with a half installed kitchen. I didn't know anyone else who I could hire to finish it off. I also was very concerned about the delays. I knew that even if I found someone else to do the work it would cost me double as no-one likes to come into the middle of someone else's job or mess and try to straighten it out. I was really down.

On the seventh day of his being absent, without even as much as a call, I was about to give up, but decided to try calling one more time . His wife answered the phone, I explained who I was and that I was concerned about him and was wondering when he might be coming back. His wife said, "I don't know or care. I kicked him out. Ask his new girl friend or probation agent.

"Probation agent?" I answered with surprise.

"Yes," she said, "He's back on drugs and he tested positive for Meth and that was a violation of his probation. He will have to go back and serve his previous sentence."

I was stunned. I was speechless. I didn't know what to say. I thanked her for the information and hung up.

The say the mother of all invention is necessary. They weren't kidding.

All I could think of was, yesterday I could barely spell carpenter and somehow tomorrow I will become one.

"This can't really be happening; can it?" I remember thinking.

Yes it was.

I felt panic for a moment.

Then I went numb.

copy write all rights reserved D. Jerzak 03-08-07


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


So his problem was drugs, ANd now you went from General Contracter to Installation forman. to Installer. Is the pay the same for all of these jobs?


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


hEY dUSTY. SEND ME A CHECK AND i'll drive over to your house in the morning and fix everything. $1,000.00 plus bus fare should do it.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, Dusty, Dusty…


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


golden opportunities-they sure do come in all shapes, sizes, and drug charges.

isn't it interesting, the list of things that we can put on our "thank goodness for" list. 
If it wasn't for this, then that wouldn't have happened; and if that hadn't have happened then this wouldn't have happened… and so goes the journey of life.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, the saga continues. Great story, Buddy!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I know I KNOW I know….....

No matter how many times I admit I made a mistake and did something that stupid, the only thing I can say is I wouldn't "know" what I know now with out experiencing it.

They call this learning.

The unfortunate thing about life is in order to gain experience you have to do something.

By doing something you run the risk of making mistakes. They call this living and learning.

Some times this is painful, expensive, embarrassing, humiliating, and often a valuable experience. Regardless if it was our intent or not.

I did what I did. I made several mistakes and still do.

I am a lot smarter today and make less mistakes.

The only thing I am sure of is I am human.

Very Human.

To a fault.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


but you wouldn't ve so smart today if it hadn't been for the lessons of yesterday!!

And….... helping someone out isn't a bad thing; taking someone's money under false pretenses is. .. but then again.. an angel's work comes in the most surprising avenues.


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## Woodchuck1957 (Feb 4, 2008)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


These are the type of carpenters that make the rest of us look bad, and there seems to be no shortage of them. But on the other hand, carpentry can be a very thankless job, low pay, no retirement, no sick pay, no vacation, no medical insurance, and if you get hurt on the job, well good luck. I've worked on a couple jobsites for a certain General Contractor that is so cheap he wouldn't provide as much as a porta potty on the jobsite. It's law to have one, but the city won't look into it unless someone practicaly dies on the jobsite is what I was told by the City Inspectors office. So this is the type of people carpentry jobs attract, people down on their luck and desperate for work. Some home owners know this and you can bet most of the General Contractors do too, they get filthy, stinking rich abuseing workers. It's really a shame, I luv doing the work, but the pay, the lack of any bennefits, and the general disrespect of the trade keep me from persueing it any longer. Dusty, I'm not saying you did anything wrong, I don't know, I wasn't there, but I will say you had alot more patience with the guy than I would of had IF thats the way things were, which wouldn't suprise me. Anyone I've known thats been on meth has totally messed their life up at the time and I avoid them like the plaque. You can't trust them, even if they use to be a long time friend. The stuff is REALLY BAD NEWS.


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## HallTree (Feb 1, 2008)

Dusty said:


> *Help Wanted...Carpenter...Start Immediately...Jerks need not apply*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


What a horror story! I know how you feel. About 10 years ago we had a roofer put a new roof on our over 100 year old 2 1/2 story victorian home. We were gone for about a month during the time he was working and got back just about the time he finished. I could not have asked for a better job. the only problem was it had snowed the night before and the next morning he was using a blow torch to dry out a small flat roof and set the house on fire. As we stood outside watching the firemen trying to put out the fire, which was a total loss, he keep saying "don't worry I have insurance". You guessed it, no insurance. The big part of the problem was us. Before he started we asked if he was bonded and insurured. He stated that he was but did not have the papers with him at that time. We said "that's OK we trust you". Famous last words. To add to the problem (because he seem such a nice guy and did such a good job) we paid him the remaining $4000 the day of the fire. Yes, painful, expensive, embarrassing, and humiliating. A lesson for all of us.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*










(Ms D doing her day care with the shop hounds)

My options were limited. I could run an ad for a carpenter, and risk the same experience I had with the last one. I wanted to go through this about as bad as I wanted to have my wisdom teeth pulled with a claw hammer. I pretty much gave up on the idea of hiring some handyman or contractor because of the added cost. I was the one that was responsible for the mess and it was me who gave him the advance. The way I saw it, it would be me who would get us out and me alone who would take the hit for the advance.

I wasn't quite sure how I was going to do this. I just knew I would somehow see it through to the end. Before we can learn a lesson and move on, they say it has to hurt, even sting. You have to walk before you run I guess. If that's the case I was on a dead run.

In my mind, there was one thing I could do. It wasn't what I had first envisioned, but it seemed like a possible and practical solution; that was for me to finish the work, or at least attempt to move forward with the project until I found a carpenter. There was just one problem with that plan.










I had no experience at installing kitchen cabinets or counter tops. In short, I didn't have a clue where to began.










I remember having a huge headache. I just sat in my shop thinking (and feeling a bit sorry for myself) about my options and next move. I looked up and noticed someone walking down my driveway towards me. It was Sid, my plumber's friend. I had missed him the last time he was here, I was taking a nap.

In his heavy accent he asked, "How's it going?

"Not worth a darn!" and I briefly explained the predicament I was in. He listened carefully, and let me both vent and finish explaining what had happened with the carpenter.

After I finished giving him the details, he asked, "Why don't you finish the job yourself?"

I tried to explain that I had never installed a kitchen before.

He looked right at me and as if he didn't hear me repeated," Why don't you finish the job yourself?" but added this time, "Possibly, I could help you."

I stumbled out, "Do you know how to? Do you have experience installing cabinets? Would you be able to …" 
Interrupting me, he answered with a smile, "I helped a friend once and did my own a while ago and they turned out OK".

I thought about it for a moment and decided it wouldn't be fair for me to ask him to help because if something went wrong I wouldn't want him to feel like he was to blame. I got myself into this mess, I needed to work through it and get myself out. I thanked him for his offer, but declined his help.

We then made some small talk for a while. I offered my apologies for not being much for company. I had a lot on my mind. He seemed to understand. He stated that in a couple weeks he would be done with his teaching job. He taught in an alternative high-school for the socially and academically challenged. In other words the losers; the kids who got kicked out and no-one wanted to have in their school. I knew the school in which he taught. It wasn't located very far from where I lived. It is a very tough school.

I explained that I was just getting my shop going. I wasn't in any position to hire anyone let alone try teaching anyone because I didn't have any experience to speak of as a carpenter.

He said that he just wanted a place he could come to and try help out. He loved woodworking. He helped his grandfather build boats with hand tools in the Bahamas.

"I've never lost my interest in woodworking. I don't expect to get paid. I just wanted a chance and don't have a place or shop where I can work." With a pained look on his face, he explained that he was recently separated from his wife and she had all his tools. He didn't even have access to them.

I wanted to know why, but I didn't ask or make any comments. He seemed both grateful and relieve I never pried or ask any more questions. I then found myself saying, "Well, if you would like to come by when you finish school, feel free to do so." I went on, "I'm sure we could learn from each other."

His face lit up. He turned and walked back down the driveway towards the road. He suddenly stopped and returned saying, "Dusty please inform your neighbors that its ok with you if they see this black man hanging around your shop, just in case you're not here."

I was taken back, even shocked at his statement. I snapped back, "There won't be any need for you to hang out and wait for me if I'm not here." I reached into my pocket and gave him the key to my shop and house. I then said, "I'll see you in a couple weeks. It's time for me to get some work done. I have a kitchen to build and I turned and walked towards my shop.

I remember thinking out loud, "I wish I had a clue how I'm going to build this kitchen or, for that matter, where I should start."

I finally decided to approach it using my training in law as a para-legal. Let me try to explain this. I was trained that when a client brought a problem to the law firm, the lawyer in charge of the case would assign me the task of doing the required research. Study the facts of the case, I would review the pertinent case-law, become familiar with any legal precedent, and research a number of other sources relating to the problem being presented. I would then take all this information and organize it in a memo, report, or brief so that the client could be given an overview of the case and the most likely outcome. Then strategies could be devised and various options proposed to solve the problem. After presenting this to the client, a recommendation would be made.

This is how I approached the challenge at hand to finish the cabinet installation and countertop. I started from a problem-solving vantage point. I identified what needed to be done, and researched how to best do it. I then put in place the plan; this I adjusted as necessary. I keep good mental notes as the job progressed. I paid particular attention how I would do this type of work differently, if I were to do it again. I am a quick study and I learn best by doing it myself with my own hands. I am a very visual learner. I am also quite analytical and logic-oriented. I relied on my background in drafting, law, and being around and observing the various construction trades.

The single biggest challenge, it turns out, was overcoming my own mental doubt that I could do this. This is not to say that I don't really appreciate all the talent, complexities and time it takes practicing the craft of fine carpentry or cabinet making. I'm simply saying, because of the predicament I found myself in I had few options. This seemed like the best way to go about solving my problem.

When I look back, all I can recall is, I just started. I took a few tools, and just started hanging upper cabinets. I had read a few how-to books and articles about how to install cabinets. I even made a special trip to the local big box hardware store and they gave me a few tips.

I just dug in. It's as simple as that. No the job wasn't simple; the simple part was I really had only two choices. They were, to try installing the cabinets and complete the job, or find someone else to do it.

It's was that simple.

I wish I could claim that some great wisdom came upon me and I installed the cabinets.

That simply wasn't the case.

I took one cabinet at a time and screwed them to the wall.

In hindsight this was a real life lesson for me. For so long I had convinced myself or had been told by others that I couldn't do that type of work.

I had come to believe it; I even acted it out. I had told myself that, because of my hand and lack of training in carpentry work, I couldn't possibility do it.

Was the job perfect?

No, not even close.

But, it was well within acceptable standards. I can show you every flaw in the kitchen. I find I'm a perfectionist I also know that I am my own worse critic. One of the hardest things I had to overcome, and still do, is not to let myself become paralyzed over a project. I find it easy to come up with any number of excuses not to do something. I'm not proud of this flaw, nor have I overcome it. I am just aware of it and try to work on it.

As it turns out, I still use the problem-solving approach that I used to finish Ms. D's kitchen. It has become the model that I use to teach myself carpentry and fine furniture building skills.

I take one step at a time; even baby steps at times. I need to walk before I run.

I need to remind myself of this; time and time again.

The next time I was to be reminded of this hard lesson was when I found myself in cross-fire between rival gangs.

This was not exactly a good time to review one of life's lessons.

I guess you never know when you will be called on to re-learn the lessons of life.

Copy right all rights reserved D.Jerzak 03-12-07


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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Inspiring. I can truly relate to the baby steps, Dusty. The just starting part is one of my challenges as well. I read, I study what I want to do, etc. and then I sometimes stare at the wood as if it was some obstacle instead of thinking, "whoo hoo! this is going to be a blast!" Being a perfectionist myself, the fear of the big screw-up is always something to contend with. I think it must come from a career full of tight deadlines for the last 15 years. 'No room for error. No time to fix this later.' It wears on a guy.

The best thing I ever did though read an article about drafting your design and prototyping (goes to the analytical/logical process). I had a need to build some shelving/storage drawers and so I measured the space and sketched the design. I was determined to just do it and not overthink it. Whadaya know…. it worked. I went and bought the baltic birch, followed my cutting plans, made some modifications along the way but had everything for the simple box and all the drawer parts cut in two and a half hours.

Thanks for sharing your model and reminding me about taking baby steps. I hope the cross-fire situation you mention had a positive ending.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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Very Good Dusty.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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I related to being a visual learner. I can read books and books on something or just see one good drawing. I'm really enjoying your blog, keep it coming!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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Caliper,

Thank you.

Long ago I come to realize I am my own worse enemy when it comes to trying new things. I have finally adopted the attitude with woodworking that " I only need to be a little bit smarter than the wood". I say that because its so easy to allow myself to be intimated by a project. I tend to make things a lot more difficult than they really are. I also have found if I have to lighten up and have some fun. Other wise it feels to much like work. and it becomes just a job, rather than my passion.

Then it is no fun. I tend to make more mistakes when I am tense and frustrated. If i allow myself to make mistakes and to be less than perfect I find the project goes much better. I have had to learn how to laugh at myself. That part is getting easier.

Now I just need to figured out how to enjoy all the others who laugh at me. 

That said: Jeff, and with you living across the river from me, your surely aware that this week has been a stressful week for me as a bus driver in Minneapolis. The two murders, on our buses and the bank robber who used the bus for a get away sure, puts in perspective, the old saying -a bad day in the workshop is still better than any day at work.

I seem to be cherishing the time in my shop all the more this week.


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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Yes, I would agree this week has been a stressful one! My gosh! I had not heard of the two murders… I heard about the get away. Man, keep an eye out and trust those insticnts! I'll be thinking of you as the weekend approaches. I hope our fair metro doesn't bring anything nasty your way…

Here's to safe and fulfilling woodworking. Cheers!


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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as I read the part where you turned down the offer for help, I was reminded of the story where the man was stranded on his roof during a flood. He declined help from people in boats, canoes, and even helicopters, saying that he trusted the Lord to save him. When he drowned and reached heaven the Lord said, "What happened?? I sent 3 boats, a canoe, and helicopter to help you!!".

I see that we have a sequel to the story: Dusty and The Bus. 
Scary stuff, mister!!!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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MsDebbieP

I like your parable. I completely understand not asking for help and being available to receive or accept help.

I also think there is times we need to do things on our own.

In this case I took responsibility for the mess I was in. I think it would of been unfair to ask him for help because I didn't know him that well and i didn't want him to feel like he was responsible for something he had no control over if it didn't go well. I didn't want to pass the buck so to speak.

I met this challenge head on.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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the choices we make "just are what they are". 
You needed to do what you needed to do-which in the end has brought you here: one of the finest woodworkers that I know.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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when the time comes to decide… do you do what is easy, or what's right?

Bravo Dusty!

keep the story coming!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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MsdebbieP,

I am touched and honored by that comment. Thank you.

There are many woodworkers here.

I want to be remembered and known not so much for my woodworking, but what I am like as a human being.

I find one of the greatest things about the other Lumberjocks is they are decent, honest ,and caring people.

They have there integrity and priories in order.

That is one of the hidden jewels of this site.

What good would come from being surrounded by impressive talent, if it has no desire or passion, to reach out and share - or teach others - who wanted to partake in their gifts.


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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Dusty, you're an inspiration!


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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You got that right, Dusty.
Everyone with whom I chatted about LumberJocks I have tried to describe how amazing everyone is-good souls, kind souls, spiritual souls, artistic souls… 
I'm proud to be a member of this wonderful family.


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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I ditto OS's and Debbie's posts. On to reading ….

Diane


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *To be a carpenter or not to be… Chapter 20*
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it's a wonderful "nail-biting" story, isn't it Diane?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*How not to build and deliver a woodworking project…Life Lessons in woodworking…*










Gaining too much self-confidence is the danger that results from having some success with ones first remodeling project. I think in my case, it's more appropriate to call it false-confidence.

There is no doubt my skill as a carpenter improved and I had learned a lot from the remodeling jobs I had taken on. I can even claim tremendous success in learning to use and overcome the severe limitations of my hand.

That said, I am in no way making light of this achievement. I recognize that, for me, this was a life changing event.

What I am referring to is this. Just because I had some success at something doesn't make me a master carpenter or furniture maker.

I don't know if it was foolishness, false pride, or simply stupidity on my part, to think I was ready to jump from basic carpentry to fine-furniture building. I suspect it was a lot of all those things. I am always amused at myself when I look back and find that I have grasped something pretty fast how soon I am ready to elevate myself up the progress scale a lot faster than I deserve and have really earned.

I know that we all have egos. It's healthy to take on challenges and keep raising the bar. I like to use this example to explain what I mean. If I had a new born child, would I buy them a new car for there first birthday?

Certainly not.

They aren't ready for it yet. They have several stages to go through and years to mature to prepare for that day.

With this example in mind, share with me how you shouldn't build a fine piece of furniture and deliver it to your client without having substantial experience in furniture building. I won't even mention my lack of delivery skills.

I had made less than a half a dozen fairly easy pieces of furniture at this point. My shop had expanded in both size and in the number and quality of tools. I had been adding tools as I could afford them and any money I had made on side jobs I returned to the business. Remember I was still going to be and always wanted to be a real-estate baron.

It's easy to loose sight of the goal when suddenly you think you are the next Sam Maloof.

I don't know which sin is worse; thinking I am something I clearly wasn't or offending a world renowned craftsman. If I was under the influence of something I might have an excuse.

I'm not nor was I.

So let's just agree, I am about five bricks short of a full load.

Better yet in plain and simple terms, I'm nuts.

I had built a couple country cupboards and an entertainment center for Ms D and a few other pieces for neighbors. I had pretty good success with these projects and got a lot of encouragement to build other pieces.

Armed with this new confidence and fresh new plans from "Woodsmith" and various other magazines and books, I was ready to take on the world.

Or so I thought.

Now, just for the record and the following confession and testimony I am about to give under oath, please refer to the publication, Woodsmith, issue number 108, page six. This was one of the very first projects that I took on.

To answer the question you are asking yourself right now, no, I wasn't committed. I probably should have been, but I'm sure at that point I was long beyond help anyways.
For those of you who don't have the full library of Woodsmith issues, I am referring to a Classic Cherry Bed.










The reason I choose this project was simple I needed a head and footboard and besides it was a "Feature Project" and I am quoting now, "With this bed, you certainly won't lose any sleep figuring out how to make all the mortises for the slats. With our method, it's as easy as counting sheep."

Well, with that for a headline and a fine magazine like Woodsmith, this project was perfect for beginners.

Well, not this beginner!

More on that later, but as an interesting side-note under what a fellow LumberJocks, MsDebbieP, refers to as 'life's lessons', this is where I first came to understand woodworker's law, number thirty-two. That is, there are no mistakes in woodworking, merely opportunities to alter the design. Of course, it goes without saying that, from the very beginning it was your intent and is evident that it should have been built this way anyway.

On this project, I had a chance to put in practice that very law several times.










Having completed that project and really going off the deep end I decided to take on the matching piece. Please refer to Woodsmith, issue number 67, page eighteen. For those of you that don't have this, it's a six foot high by four and one half foot wide twenty inch deep armoire; or as I refer to it, a large wooden duck-boat without the oars, or a two person wooden coffin.

Your choice.

Again I am quoting here, "This graceful arched top and the raised panel doors of this cherry armoire make it a classic. It's sure to become a family heirloom to be handed down from generation."

Let me get back to you on that one, OK? As for handing it down, it's not very likely, at least, not without a small crane.

In my defense I chose to build these two projects out of oak. In that way, if they didn't turn out, I wouldn't be out the cost of expensive cherry.

How's that for thinking ahead and with confidence?

And you thought I was a rookie!

Ok now the true confession begins. Please bow your head and take a moment of silence. This will be as close to a spiritual awakening as you will probably ever get here on earth.

I know it was for me.

*Now for the lessons learned. There were so many I will only highlight a few of the major ones.

1. Be sure you have enough clearance in your shop to build the project. This is so you don't have to cut open the sheet rock attached to the bottom of the rafters. That is to enable you stand this project up so that it fits between the twenty-four inch rafters.

2. Do not alter from the plan until you have sufficient experience, or are well versed in designing and building furniture. This includes not making the doors half the size because you are convinced a door that large will warp. (see accompanying picture for my design)

3. Do not follow the plans because your measurements and layout vary from theirs.

4. Don't worry about that shooting pain in the lower back and leg that only hurts when you breathe, walk, talk, or move. It's just part of the experience of working with a little larger project.*

This list will give you a start. I'm sure that I could add many more but again its just a highlighted overview.

Oh, did I forget the most important one? I'm sorry, it must be the glue fumes from my shop that causes me to have these memory lapses.

*6 Before you build it, measure the headroom and clearance in the narrow hallways of your house and the space into which it is suppose to fit. It's better if you do this before you take the doors off and line up extra help to move this into the intended room, especially if they are your buddies *

To this day, I have no idea how I missed that one. Well, I really do, but I'm sticking to the glue fume story.

Ok go ahead and say it, I blew it.

Ouch, that hurt.

Now, let's move on to the best part of this "life lessons" that I learned the hard way.

I kept thinking to myself that it would make a great, albeit expensive, storage locker for my shop, so not all would be lost. Just one problem though; remember it is lodged between two rafters. It's poking thru the sheet rock and located to one side of the garage, but near the middle of the floor.

Not good.

I could just tell people, who visit the shop, that it was part of a showcase of my work.

I'm glad I didn't go with that one.

Just bye luck and sheer coincidence, a co-worker at the bus garage stopped by my shop that day with a chair, to see if I could repair it. We had previously spoken about it at work. Of course I could. Remember, I am the new "Yankee Workshop." I can do anything.

My buddy brought along his finance and introduced me to her. She seemed very nice and certainly was a classy lady. She was looking at the Armoire very carefully. She asked if it was for a client or was I building it for myself. I said, sheepishly, "It's suppose to be mine but unfortunately, it won't fit down my narrow hall, nor into my bedroom where I had planed for it to be.

"Oh!" she said. "Is it for sale?"










"Well," I said, "To be honest it's more of a prototype. This is the first time I have attempted to build anything like this. I figure that I would put it in my house and nobody would know the difference. I would learn from my mistakes and make the necessary changes to the next one so it would be perfect."

I pointed out all the flaws, like the upper doors not matching the lower doors and various other flaws I had discovered. I was very honest with her. At that point there was no sense pretending. It mistakes were so evident that there was simply no hiding them. Well, at least I thought they were obvious.

She asked again," Is it for sale?"

I said yes, not knowing if she was serious.

"How much?" she continued.

I said, without even thinking, "Five hundred dollars."

I had more than that in it, but it just came out of my mouth and certainly it was no good to me the way it was; not to mention were it was, stuck in middle of my shop taking up valuable space.

She asked "Does that price include delivery?"

"Of course!" I said, "For you it does, because I'm a good friend of your fiancé."

"Sold" she said, "When can you deliver it?"

I answered, "Let me call my buddy and see if I can get him and his company delivery truck to help." I explained that he had a large truck and it would be better if we stood it up and didn't have to lay it down on its back.

I then called my buddy and arranged to have it delivered later that afternoon. She told me that would be fine. All she needed was some time to go home and empty the dresser that was in the bedroom. I obtained their address and told them that I would see them shortly.

I stared at the address they had given me. My buddy noticing my expression said "Yes, it's the center of the 'Hood'. Before you arrive, call so I can open up the 8 foot fence and you can park inside the yard. You will be alright there because I will let my German Sheppard roam outside while you are there. Just don't try coming in until I tell you it's clear.

As they left the shop I said, "OK, we will see you in couple hours."

I was so excited to be rid of this albatross, I could hardly stand it; simply giddy.

I had already planed on what I would buy for tools with my recovered five hundred dollars. Better yet I wouldn't have it taking up half my shop. I thought, it's a great day in the woodworking shop.

My buddy promptly showed up with his truck and said, "Lets get this over with because I have dinner plans and I need to get this company truck back before 5 pm."

He and I with my business partner loaded the armoire. This was no simple task. It took three of us almost an hour to maneuver it into the truck and get it tied down. I called my buddy and told him we were on our way. He lived only about 20 blocks from me so it wasn't far. He said he would be waiting and to come to the back.

This was an experience all by itself. I rarely ever get to this part of town let alone this particular area. It has the highest crime and murder rate of the Twin Cities. I simply couldn't understand why my buddy was living in this area.

We arrived and he let us in the back gate and promptly shut it and tied his German Sheppard up with firm instructions not to pet him. Trust me; he didn't have to worry about that from any of us. The two inch spiked chain link he used as a dog collar tipped me off that this wasn't Lassie.

The house was huge from the outside. It appeared to be built about 1900 and from what I could see, was in great condition. It was one of the original mansions built long ago before this part of the city fell to urban blight. I asked my buddy how it is to live in this area. He bluntly told me he hated it. It's dangerous but his fiancé had inherited the house from her father and wouldn't move. So if he wanted to be with her he had to live here.

I suggested we go inside to see where we were going to place this armoire. The inside was stunning. The house looked like it belonged in Architectural Digest. He gave us a tour. I was spellbound and understood why he lived there. He commented that he loved the house but was so tired of the crime that he wasn't sure how long he would be able to last there.

We unloaded the armoire and carried it in. We had to take it up a solid oak winding staircase. The heavy armoire made this task very difficult because we had to hold it above the oak railing. While building a small fire in a floor-to-ceiling fireplace made of field-stone, his fiancé was watching us with a keen eye.

This added to the uncomfortable feeling I had. She also never spoke a word during all this moving.

We made it to the top of one landing on the spiral oak staircase and stopped to catch our breath. I could see that the next section of the stairway was gong to be a challenge.

We tried several times and various ways by tilting the armoire to different angles to get beyond the landing. Every once in a while you could here the clunk of wood on wood. Followed by a excited voice saying, "Careful!"

It was getting tense

After several attempts and some bumps to the side of the armoire, I declared, "It's not going to fit."

It became very quiet.

We studied the situation. It was obvious that the spiral staircase was not going to allow us make the corner with that large a piece of furniture. Knowing full-well that it wasn't going to happen, but breaking the awkward silence, I fumbled with the hand rail and said, "Unless, that is, unless we take the stairs apart."

She looked up and said, "Then take the stairway apart. Just be careful, it's over 100 years old. My father built that stairway".

I cringed.

I looked at my buddy and he said, "You heard the lady, take the stairways apart."

I explained that I didn't have any tools with me. He responded, "What do you need? I have tools."

I worked for about 20 minutes to take off a section of the stairway. The last two spindles split and pieces chipped off them.

Inside, I was feeling sick. I told my buddy, "No worries I will take them back to the shop and fix them as good as new."

We began to move the armoire again. This time we made it to the top of the doorway. But it wouldn't fit through because it was too tall and too wide. It wouldn't tip at a enough angle to fit through.

I wanted to sit down and cry.

I suppose this is a good point to mention "lessons of life" woodworking law number six.

*6. Measure all stairways, hallways, entryways, and doorways regardless whose house it is and how big it looks before you unload the furniture and tear apart the oak stairway.*

My buddy asked "Now what?"

I replied in a joking tone, "Well, looks like she could use some more firewood."

This broke the tension, but they didn't realize I was serious.

I sat down, staring for a moment, at this mess. My buddy with the truck was getting anxious because of his commitments. I said, "OK, this isn't going to work so let's load this back into the truck so my buddy can get going. I will custom build a new one at no additional cost to you. I will make it in two pieces so that it will fit."

They said that I didn't have to do that.

I said I would and that was that. I would figure out something.

We loaded the armoire back up and took it to my shop. My buddy was running way behind, so I told him to just leave it in the driveway and that I would take care of it from that point.

He then left.

On the shop radio, playing in the background, was a live show called 'The Great American Garage Sale'. Listeners would call up and describe their items and list them for sale. I called, got through and described the oak armoire and said that the first person who shows up in my driveway with cash would get to take it home.

Within minutes there were four calls. One guy, who was listening on the radio while driving near where I lived, pulled off the freeway and quickly arrived at my house.

You don't want to know what I got for it.

I was never so excited to take such a monetary loss on a piece of furniture as I was with that armoire.

It was such a treat to see it head down the road never to return.

I still think my idea about the firewood was better.

Now I had to build her a new one and fix the stairway.

Little did I know, I would need a bullet proof vest for this next delivery!


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *How not to build and deliver a woodworking project…Life Lessons in woodworking…*
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Keep it coming Dusty


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *How not to build and deliver a woodworking project…Life Lessons in woodworking…*
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I was thinking Brad Pitt could play Dusty in the movie version, but now I'm thinking Steve Martin would be better.


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *How not to build and deliver a woodworking project…Life Lessons in woodworking…*
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I'm in pain over here. Arrgg…

I, for one, am glad it did not become firewood. You never know how valuable that piece may become someday. Yes, that's a compliment.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *How not to build and deliver a woodworking project…Life Lessons in woodworking…*
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I guess "measure twice, cut once" has taken on a whole new meaning. I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry. Bet writing all that helped get some of the frustartion out though huh Dusty? No? (Chip runs for the door)


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *How not to build and deliver a woodworking project…Life Lessons in woodworking…*
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I laughed out loud on that one.. I'm still picturing that beautiful piece of wood, I mean furniture, stuck in the shop..
Oh Dusty, you are a great writer!!


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *How not to build and deliver a woodworking project…Life Lessons in woodworking…*
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It sounds almost like a Laurel, & Hardy movie.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*










It never ceases to amaze me the lengths we will go, to make things so hard on ourselves. To start with, I am referring of course, to all the trouble I had with that six foot armoire that wouldn't fit in my shop; then all the trouble we went through trying to get it upstairs at my buddies' house. I realize that it would have been a lot easier, had I just taken the time to measure and plan the project before I built it.

Live and learn.

The trouble is, I'm not sure that I will live long enough to make all the mistakes necessary to become a perfect woodworker.

The solution was very obvious. I must have been blind. All I had to do was build this Armoire to fit through the doorways, narrow halls, and up the spiral steps.

Although simple and obvious, I still question why it take me so long to figure out?

That time the wood was smarter than me. I admit it.

I just needed to figure out how to build this solution.

I did just that. I admit that it was a challenge but it surely was a lot easier than what I had experienced with that heavy and clumsy, oversized armoire.

All the time I was building the replacement piece, I had no idea how valuable that lesson would become. It wasn't too long before I had to build various pieces of furniture to fit the stairway of an old house that had no headroom and was narrow and unforgiving.

That's the beauty of woodworking. If we allow them, solutions find us.

My buddy felt really sorry for me and all the work I had gone through to deliver the armoire. He new I had just started furniture making and acquiring new tools for my shop. At the time, I was more than willing to take on projects for the experience, and to trade out my labor for new tools. I badly needed a new table-saw. Due to all the money I had spent remodeling my own house, I was short of cash to buy one. Plus, I had already spent a lot of money on tools for my new shop.

He really liked the head and foot board I had built out of oak for my own bedroom. He offered to buy me a new table saw if I built him one just like mine. I had a lot of oak that I had traded for another project I did, so I figured this would be a good trade. Besides, having previously built one, I knew how not to build this one. It was agreed. I would build a new head and foot-board and a new armoire. I would charge him the same price as I had asked for the armoire that wouldn't fit. In exchange, he would buy me that new Ridgid table-saw from Home Depot that I had been looking at.

I went to work on the projects. This time I had a helper. Sid had finished teaching and was on summer vacation. He had just started coming to the shop.

I asked him whether he knew anything about furniture design. "Nope!" was his one word answer as he continued working on repairing an old stool someone from the neighborhood had brought around.

This was my first indication that Sid was a man of few words. He just keeps quiet and to himself, working at his own pace. He wasn't in any hurry.

I started drawing on a tablet, what I thought was a good design for the armoire. From time to time, I would stop and ask Sid's opinion. He would just say, "Looks good," and go back to work. I was hoping he would jump in and offer some ideas because I had no clue what I was doing.

But none were forthcoming.

After I completed the design and drawing, I showed it to Sid and asked what he thought. Again, his only response was, "Looks good."

I could see that even asking was a waste of time but at least I was trying to include him.

There is no better way to find out if something is going to work than to build it and find out. That's exactly what we did. We had to make some minor adjustments because we lacked the tool or equipment to build in a certain way. Plus we were limited in our woodworking skills. Although we were learning fast, we had much more to learn.

We did work well as a team. I did all the talking he did all the nodding. What could be better than that?

I had to stop and eat a lunch. I had reminded Sid to bring his lunch but when I ask him if he brought his lunch, he said, "No," and went back to work. I figured I would be kind and share my sandwich and fresh garden salad with him. Ms. D and I had our garden and had a lot of nice early veggies to choose from for our salads. Mine was a roast beef sandwich. I gave him half. He nodded and thanked me. We sat in the shop eating. It was dead silent. I noticed he wasn't eating his sandwich. I asked him if it was ok. He nodded, but never looked up. I walked outside for a minute to take in some of the sunshine and stretch a bit. I turned around to ask him if he was coming outside and I saw him throwing the roast beef sandwich to my two basset hounds that double as garbage disposals.

They seemed to enjoy the sandwiches. I asked Sid if something was wrong with the sandwich. He said, "Nope,' and apologized for not telling me he only ate fish and vegetables.

We went back to work. Not a word was spoken. It's hard to explain, but even though not a word was spoken it seemed Sid and I had worked together for years. In an eerie sort of way, it was very comforting. He seemed to know my next move and be ready for whatever I needed or was thinking.

My efforts to engage him in conservation were met with short answers or no response at all. I soon just gave up and concentrated on what I was doing. Most of the day was spent in silence. Although this made for very productive days, I wasn't used to this and at first found it hard to adjust.

This continued for most of the summer.

It's funny how many projects your neighbors can come up with when they find out you have a workshop. We always had the garage door open. As they walked by they could see we were working on various pieces and would often come up the driveway to see what we were doing. They would frequently ask us to fix this, or build that, for them. Of course, they would usually ask how much I would charge. I would answer that we didn't charge for our labor because we were just gaining experience and would rather trade labor for tools. Then I would invite them to bring whatever it was to the shop they wanted fixed, or if they had a picture of something that they wanted built.

It wasn't long and we had a shop full of broken stools, chairs, tables, and various other things that needed gluing, or some other repair. I started a tip jar and seeded it with a twenty and at the end of the day I would give all the tips to Sid.

He was so grateful.

Every day I would stop for lunch and ask him if he brought lunch. Same answer. No. I would then ask him if he would like a salad and a can of tuna. He would say, "Yes thank you." We would stop and he would mix his tuna in with his salad and eat it but never say a word. After eating he would get back up and go right back to work.

He showed up every day that summer.

I've lost count, but we did many repairs and projects for the neighbors and their friends and relatives. We sure learned a lot about furniture repair, design and building. Every penny we took in the tip jar I gave to Sid. It was a good summer.

I did discover one thing rather quickly. We were putting together the shell, or carcass of the armoire which was made out of ¾ oak veneer. We needed to lift the shell up and stand it so we could fit the shelves and I asked him to lift one side. He said it looks pretty heavy and hesitated. I made a smart remark and called him something less than manly and started to lift the armoire. He grabbed the other side. We slid it off the work bench and he promptly dropped his side and it fell to the floor. I asked in a very stern tone what the heck he was doing. He explained that he had no strength in my right hand. He had a reaction to some medication he was taking for hay fever and ended up in a coma for several weeks and never regained the strength of that hand.

I understood.

I never asked him again about the hand. We just worked around that problem.

In silence.

We completed the head and foot-board and the armoire. I fixed the pieces of spindle and handrail from the oak stairway that I took apart to get the first armoire up the steps.










It was time to deliver the project. I called my buddy and we agreed on Saturday afternoon. This time, not only was it going to be easier because we had build this in two pieces, but I had taken the time to measure everything ahead of time. I knew it would fit in the hallways and through the doorways. It would also fit in my pickup and only need two guys to lift the pieces. I left the back off which gave us a place to grab making it easier to lift. We planned to install the back and the shelves in the field. This also made it considerable lighter.










It's sure funny what a sore back can do to make you a smarter woodworker.

I promptly arrived at my buddies at the agreed time. We went right to work unloading the furniture that I had wrapped up so well in blankets. We were under the watchful eye of his fiancée. He had the bedroom empty so we just stockpiled all the pieces until we had all of them unloaded. I then brought up my tools and was preparing to begin putting together the bed and armoire.

The bedroom was very large and had a beautiful floor-to-ceiling stone fireplace in the center of the south wall facing the neighbors. My buddy's fiancée ask me where I thought the oak head and foot board would look best. This was a rather large piece. There was a large triple window facing the street that would be perfect and add to the natural flow of the room while still allowing for a full view of the fireplace from the bed. I started to walk towards the window pulling out my tape measure to make sure that it would fit between the windows. In a very stern voice she said, "No! I will not have my head that close to a window next to the street in this neighborhood."

I was taken aback and responded, "You're kidding, right?" She answered, "Hell no! I'm serious. This is the Hood, not some rich suburb." Then she said, "How about in front of the fireplace."

With a question I replied, "And block that beautiful fireplace?"

"Yep," she said. "It's all stone and I don't think bullets can get thru that."

I was so taken aback and puzzled by this that I started walking to the window again to see what was across the street. I had come in from the backyard and there was a high fence around the property so that I couldn't see anything.

I stood near the window looking out and pulling my tape measure out again to take a measurement, in a convincing tone she declared, "No!" It's simply not a option there.

Just then I noticed a car pull up in the middle of the street. A guy got out and kneeled behind the door. I took a double-take because I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The pops started. It sounded like firecrackers but much louder.

My buddy hollered, "HIT THE FLOOR WHITE BOY, THE HOODS GONE NUTS AND THEY BE SHOOTING IT UP AGAIN!" I stood there in disbelief watching this guy unload his gun at this other guy running across the street and down the side of the house. He stopped and turned and began firing back at the guy in the street.

By this time my buddy had dialed 911 and was telling the operator about the shots being fired. He and his fiancée were on the floor. I could tell that they had been through this before. I had wondered why he always had a phone in his hand while upstairs. It almost appeared well rehearsed. They were already on the floor crawling towards the hallway before I even knew what was going on.

By now I was on my knees but still peeking out the window. Stupid curiosity I guess.










My buddy asked me if I could see anything as he was relaying the information to the 911 operator. I was trying to describe to him what I was watching. He slid the phone across the hardwood floor to me. I picked it up and started giving the operator descriptions of the car and shooters. As I was describing the scene, a black 1980's Chevy Blazer, complete with a luggage rack and side boards, pulled up in the rear alley behind the house where the guy was running. A rather large man got out wearing a long trench-coat and pulled out what looked like a machinegun and started shooting.

All hell broke loose!

I was now lying flat on the floor.

It sounded like the fourth of July.

I tried pulling myself up by the sill of the window to peek out. All I could see was the top of the fence next door being shot off from the machine gun, which turned out later to be an AK 47. Just then, the shooter in the street screamed, turned and headed around the back of his car and took cover. It looked like he was loading a new clip when he turned and looked up towards me looking back out at him through the window. He pointed his gun toward me; I hit the floor.

This time I stayed there.

My heart was pounding so hard. I covered my head with my hands. Like that was going to do any good. My buddy hollered for me to crawl to the hallway where he and his fiancée were. They say you have to crawl before you run.

That's a lie. I made it in record time and my knees never left the floor.

We all lay in the hallway. I was waiting for the sirens any minute now. I thought I had given a pretty good description of the black Blazer. I hadn't heard anymore shots.

Three minutes passed nothing.

Five minutes passed still nothing.

Nine minutes passed and still no sirens.

Twelve minutes passed and still no sign of anyone or any sirens.

I shouted to my buddy as I was lying on the floor, "Call the cops back. This is crazy!"

He dialed 911 and asked why no cops showed up. The 911 operator said that she would dispatch a sergeant and to watch for him. Until you see him arrive stay in the house.

Within a few minutes two squad cars showed up out front.

We quickly hurried downstairs and met the police officers on the street. In a very serious and excited voice I demanded to know why it had taken so long to respond. I was both concerned with and angry about the slow response. The sergeant in a measured, calm voice asked who I was and if I was the one who placed the call. I told him who I was and that I was the one who gave the description of the Chevy blazer.

He then said, "We had several simultaneous calls regarding shots fired. One of the calls was from a young boy who had a language barrier and stated he was in the house that the one shooter was running along side of. He was giving a description of a black pickup truck that was in the alley with a shooter aiming at a man next to a fence." He went on to say, "As we were responding, a black pickup truck appeared at the intersection on the highway two blocks from here, that fit the initial description given by the boy. We called for backup and stopped the truck. We ordered the driver out onto the ground. Several squads showed up. The police had their weapons drawn and some had their shotguns pointed at the suspect. After ordering him to the ground, securing the suspect, and after overcoming another language barrier, it became clear that this was not the vehicle that we were looking for. The other 911 calls were giving a description of a Chevy Blazer, not a pickup. We were trying to place this man in safe custody while we sorted this out. We pat searched him and realized that he had soiled himself during this stop. We were unable at that time to place him in the back of the squad car. We had to wait for a supervisor's instructions. That is what took us so long to respond. I'm sorry."

I nodded and told him I totally understood.

At this point I wasn't sure I hadn't soiled myself too.

We went back upstairs and installed the bed in front of the fireplace.

I never said another word.

I thanked them and left; I don't even remember the drive home.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
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Scary!


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
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And they want to continue to live there?


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
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geez Louise… 
Dusty, Dusty, Dusty.

I don't know what I'd do if I inherited the house. Half of me says: it is your family; Other half says: run.. run like the wind.

And as for your journey… you are indeed a fast learner!! 
AND an angel (once again) Poor Sid. 1) not very assertive, and 2) the financial strains. 
Poor Dusty-or perhaps lucky Dusty for gaving so many opportunities coming his way!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
> 
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Lumberjacks,

For those of you who have supported me and encouraged me to write this blog my apologies for it taking so many detours.

I am grateful you have slugged through my dribble and let me tell the story behind the furnture building and rehab of the "old crack house" I now call home.

I promise to finally get to that part. The story of the rehab. I'm sorry for the long journey.

I felt it was important to give you the whole background behind " this old crack house" other wise it merely would be another remodeling story.

The good news is there is so much good things to read in this site you can just ignore this blog and move on to the good stuff.

Those of you who have been faithful followers be patience as I'm getting close now to the real story behind the story of this house and adventure.

I warned you before I started and you said bring it on. I bet you wish you wouldn't of said that now huh?

Be careful what you wish for you might get it.

The best thing about this story is its all true. I couldn't possible make this up. I'm not nearly that smart or creative.

This story gets better yet.

If you can stand it keep reading the blog.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
> 
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Karsen,

My buddy couldn't deal with the crime and shootings anymore and told his fiancee either we move together or I will.

She had inherited the house and couldn't let it go.

They parted ways. My buddy started over, I have not heard or keep up with what happened to her.

By the way, he got the furnture and still has it in his house today.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
> 
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"slugged through your dribble"


> ? !!!
> Are you kidding


 !!! 
This is the best book I have read in a long time!

Putting the story itself aside (which I am totally addicted to) it raises my appreciation for your furniture 100 fold (as if it wasn't highly appreciated in the first place). Just knowing the journey that someone walks gives a person a new perspective on their achievements.

Keep these chapters coming. As I said, I am addicted!!! 100% addicted.

You are an amazing angel-on-earth individual!!


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## DanLyke (Feb 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
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Keep 'em coming, Dusty! You've got my ful attention.


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## Drew1House (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
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Gulp….

Drew


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
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getting close to the story? You are painting a great picture… makes your house even more amazing a story. If anyone never saw the before pictures, they'd just think it was nicely maintained since it was built. If they knew it was once slated for demo, they'd might believe it. If they new it was rehabbed to it's present (and once former) glory, sure… somebody with buckets of cash paid a whole crew, or got This Old house to come in… but to do it in these conditions!.... I"ll take a Jerk for a contractor everytime over frequent neighborhood bullets (if moving wasn't an option).

Keep it coming!!!


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## Treefarmer (Mar 19, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I watched a three-way happen from her bedroom!.. Shots fired…*
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Wow!....My daughter just bought a house where the previous owner had swat teams come and bust down the door….another crack house…only this one was in a quiet suburban neighborhood on Cape Cod. Nothing as scary as this…no shots fired. As we began renovations we had to call the cops to come and remove needles that we found.

The stories he told us about what had gone on in the house made my skin crawl. One of the 1st things we did was to put up a new mailbox with their name in big white letters on it and do all the landscaping in the front yard. It previously was a weed patch. We wanted any possible past customers that might come by to know the house was no longer a place for them.

The neighbors were all so happy to have my daughter and her husband move in they threw a block party.

Amazing story and very interesting read Dusty.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*This Old Crack House…a short history lesson…her checkered past chapter*










The previous occupants of The Old Crack House were only renters. According to Ms. D, they had lived there for over ten years. They knew the original owner and builder of the house who was a master carpenter.

He built the house before this area became a city. Early records show that his grandfather had owned the land since the late 1890's. He started building the house in 1920 and finished it in 1923. He had several acres and gave each of his daughters a lot and built them a house in which to live when they got married. This was still farmland and was part of a much bigger plot of land which had historical significance dating back to civil war times. In fact there are a number of gravestones in Gettysburg, the occupants of whom, trace their roots back to this ten block area.

The carpenter who built this house had a large family and wanted to have all of them live nearby. He built the house out of rough cut oak taken from the land. He hand made all the trim and woodwork. The hardwood floors were hand cut and installed by him.

When the stock market crashed in 1929, he became ill and all the surrounding property he owned was sold to satisfy his debts. Over time, his surviving daughters either sold the property they were given, or they passed away and the property remained in the hands of distant family members who lived in California. They rented the house out to various people. Most of the renters were long-term and were known by the family. Over time, the family became detached more and more from the property and only collected rent making very few repairs to the property. As well built as the property was, extended neglect and failure to do even routine maintenance, was beginning to take its toll on the house.

I always admired the large old house across the street. It was sad to see a beautiful old house slowly fade away and fall into such disrepair. The house always was the largest house on the block. In fact, it was the largest for several blocks around. The exterior walls were stucco. This reflected a time when masons, who were true tradesmen and craftsmen, hand mixed all their mortar to make the stucco mixture. I was told by the remaining family members and their friends, people who still had access to the history of the place, that the first owner and builder of the house did his own stucco work. One of the daughters who is in her late nineties and returned from California in 2001, lives a block and half away. Although needing a walker to get around, she is still sharp as a tack and has a vivid memory. She and her husband have been an excellent source of information about the house.

The last long-term renters who lived here had a large family of nine. To make room for their family, they subdivided the rooms on the upper floor and in the basement. The front porch and parlor had been converted to bedrooms. However they were never completely finished. Temporary walls with sheetrock that only had one coat of tape, made up the make shift bedrooms.










Those with knowledge of this family, describe them as urban hillbillies.

The father had been injured and was unable to work. His wife stayed home to take care of the kids. She took in laundry and ran a day care out of the house. Because they were unable to pay the rent, the surviving Californian owners of the house, evicted the family and put it up for sale.

A man, who specialized in buying distressed properties, purchased it for next to nothing. Having had previous shady property dealings, this man had a reputation with the city as a 'slum-lord'. He fixed it up just enough to resell it to the owner before us, a woman with eight children.

How he was able to get this single mother to qualify for a grant to replace the roof and totally insulate and winterize the property is still unclear. It somehow involved a contract-for-deed and some creative financing. The public records show he pocketed sixty thousand dollars in thirty days and never had to pay for any materials or labor.

That one still baffles me.

The contract-for-deed had a balloon balance due in twenty-four months. At that point she had to get a mortgage or forfeit the property.

As if it were yesterday, I remember the day she pulled up in front of the house in a new Sport Utility. The vehicle was similar to mine, but ten years newer. It had custom wheels and several other options that made it worth about forty-five grand. I remember thinking that it looked like she was doing well and would finally be able to fix up the property.

So much for my assumption; as I would soon find out, I couldn't have been more wrong.

All the kids jumped out of the Sport Utility and started running and screaming up the front porch. With all those noisy children, I remember thinking that the neighborhood wouldn't be the same.

Boy was I right about that. If only I had known what was about to happen.

copy write 03-22-07 all rights reserved D. Jerzak


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…a short history lesson…her checkered past chapter*
> 
> 
> 
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What a wonderful history!! 
It should be recorded in a special journal that is displayed somewhere in the house (well, not necessarily on display, but definitely stores somewhere so that it is not forgotten).

Isn't it interesting, all the loop-holes that the scam-artists are aware of - and use… Unbelievable.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…a short history lesson…her checkered past chapter*
> 
> 
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Dusty. You honor us with your presents.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…a short history lesson…her checkered past chapter*
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I almost forgot this is about a house…


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*










From day one, when she moved in across the street, I knew this was going to be an interesting neighbor. Simple friendly gestures, such as a wave of the hand, were completely ignored. She was unresponsive to my attempts to engage her in friendly conversation from across the fence when she walked from her car to the front door. It was as though I didn't exist.

I tried several times to break the ice because we are a very tight-knit neighborhood and want everyone to feel welcome. We also want our neighbors to be active. I was the block captain. Welcoming the new families to their homes was my responsibility. All efforts failed. I even went over and introduced myself and asked if she would like to attend one of our block meetings. She declined and closed the door on me.

I decided I would back off, but remain polite and friendly, even though her actions made this difficult. I simply convinced myself that she was a very private person and just needed some time to get settled in. Over time, she would see what a friendly a neighborhood this was.

However, this never happened.

A lot of other things happened over the next two and one half years. I will just touch upon some of the major ones.

From the beginning, there were several people living at the house. This included both adults and several children. The kids ranged in age from an infant to one about twelve years old.

There were always several cars parked in the vacant lot that went with this property. Most days you could count up to five. Before long, appeared a number of what seemed to be abandoned cars and old trucks with spare motors, transmissions, and various other auto parts. Several times, I would see strange people who didn't appear to live in the house, working on these vehicles in the vacant lot.

Soon an old boat, a trailer along with old tires and a number of other items began to collect on the lot. It looked very much like a junk yard.










The people that lived next door to them and who were long time members of our neighborhood came over and asked me if I had met the new neighbors yet. I told them of my unsuccessful attempts.

They then described having several of the children just walk uninvited into their house. They would ask if they could stay for supper or whatever meal time it was. When quizzed about where their mother was, all they would say is she works in a pool hall. They said their grandmother was babysitting them and was too tired to cook. When asked where their father or grandfather was, they would only say they didn't have one. These kids not only seemed hungry, but tired and rather unkempt as well. They never seemed to have clean cloths, or anything to play with like toys or a bike.

The unfriendly dog they had staked out in the middle of the yard was a Pit Bull Terrier. It rarely had water in its dish and always seemed to be lacking food. Even the kids avoided it. It had a well worn circle around the makeshift dog house. It barked at everyone and everything that came near it or the house.

From her seat on the front porch, the grandmother would attempt to keep the kids in order. She was constantly yelling and threatening the kids with what she would do to them if they didn't behave. It was easy to tell she was overwhelmed. She was a chain-smoker and when she would holler at them she would begin coughing; at times, almost uncontrollably. She would send the kids up the block to buy her cigarettes. I figured she must have sent them with a note, because they were too young to do so without permission.

I would see the new SUV from time-to-time, but there was always a large African-American male driving it, not the lady who I saw driving it the first day. She drove a relativity new, top-of-the-line car. It seemed that neither she, nor the guy I had seen driving the new SUV, kept regular hours. They would come and go at any time of day. I noticed that the license plates were special plates assigned to those who had a DWI record.

The junk in the vacant lot keep piling up. The yard was never keep up and had seldom been mowed. It appeared that they had a brand new riding lawn-mower and had just started mowing when they hit the bright blue standing water-pipe that was sticking six inches out of the ground. This had obviously stopped the mower and two months later, the mower hadn't moved. Growing up all around it, were weeds and tall grass.










To allow snowplow access during the winter, there was not supposed to be any parking on the streets between 12 and 6 am. One of my biggest complaints was that she did it anyway. When the snowplow came by it would cause a large ridge to form. The narrow streets made it hard to get out of our driveway. When I attempted to talk to her about this problem, she was unresponsive, except to inform me that it was a public street and that she would park where she wanted.

At the beginning of the second summer, I began to see a pattern. Cars would cruise around the block a couple times then stop directly in front of the house. The driver or passenger would get out and run up and hand money through the ripped screened door. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that they were dealing drugs.

This made me very uncomfortable. I realized from the beginning this was bigger than me.
The more traffic, the more it generated talk amongst neighbors. There was a lot said about it at the block club meeting and informally between neighbors.

The property also attracted the city inspector's attention. Several correction orders were issued along with citations for the vehicles on the lot. There also were many other ordinance violations such as the height of the grass and weeds. The community officers seemed to be regulars at the address.

There were visits from the county checking on the welfare of the children. It appeared that after these visits a number of those adults living in the house would move out. Shortly thereafter, new people would move in.

The kids became more aggressive about asking for food. Without being invited, they would walk right into some of the neighborhood homes.

The grandmother seemed to be losing what little control she had over the children. It wasn't uncommon to see them challenge her authority by openly arguing with her. Many times I heard, "You're not our mother; I don't have to listen to you!" The kids used to leave their toys, bikes and jackets in the street or all over the neighbors yards. They rode their bikes across the yards, which resulted in several sprinkler-heads being broken. Efforts to speak to either the mother or grandmother were met with denial and a defense of the children.

It got to the point where the overall neighborhood became hostile towards the family as a whole. One neighbor even went so far as to meet with the police department and discuss his concerns about the alleged drug dealing. All the police would say is they have had received complaints and were aware of the situation. It wasn't uncommon to see someone in a vehicle parked a ways down the block watching the comings and goings of the cars. It appeared they were recording the license plates.

The local police would just stop the neighbors and make small talk. The conversation would always lead to talk about that family and house. We all knew the house was under surveillance but it didn't seem to make any difference.

One of the neighbors, with kids who went to school with the children from that family, would find out bits and pieces of information and relay it to the other neighbors. There never was a way to be able to know what was truth or just speculation. I never really took a side or relayed any of the gossip. Being one of the block captains, the pressure to do so was great.

I knew this was a no-win situation. I just remained neutral. I had no proof of wrong-doing.
Early one Sunday morning in June, all that changed.

I had been working in our garden at Ms. D's and hadn't had occasion to go to the front of the house. Hearing a commotion, I went to the front to investigate and noticed that there were more than the usual numbers of cars parked on the street. I watched as a more arrived.

There was also a police car parked out front. The police had been in the house. Coming from the house they saw me standing in my driveway and walked over to ask me if I knew the lady of the house, or any of the family. I told them that I really didn't know much about them. I explained my experiences. All the questions had been around whether I had known her fiancée. I said I didn't even know she had a fiancée. I knew there was a big guy who used to come over and stay, but I didn't know what the relationship was. They took my name and number and told me that a detective would follow up with me. Then they left.
As I turned and headed back towards the garden I noticed a note on my car windshield. I stopped and pulled it off.

It read; "Please don't call the police to have all the cars ticked that are parked on the street. There will be several cars coming and going over the next several days. My fiancée of eight years was murdered late Saturday night."

She signed her first name followed by 'the lady across the street' in parentheses. I hadn't previously known her name.

Now I did.

What a way to find out, I thought to myself.

What else didn't I know about her and that family?

I was soon about to find out.

copy write all rights reserved 03-23-07 D. Jerzak


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
> 
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and now you leave us hanging for another week??? !! 
too cruel.

isn't it sad that our demand for our legal rights results in such goings-on being able to continue because the police can't do anything!! 
Those poor kids; the poor neighbourhood having to watch, having to worry, having to wait….


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
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Very good Dusty. I'm at a loss of words to describe my feelings.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
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It must be awfully hard to be powerless in situations like this.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
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Speechless Dusty. You simply should not have to go through this sort of thing. As for the police and inspectors on the case, just another great example of "our tax dollars at work". My heart goes out to you and your neighbors..


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
> 
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I know this is echoed in every city and small town. Rich or poor, urban or rural. I'm out in the country with a crack house not a 1/4 mile away. It is something that will take more that just more jails…and alot more than we are doing now.

Great work Dusty!!!


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## roosterscoop (Oct 12, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
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Dusty - I feel for you and your neighbors. We have an elderly couple that live outside of our town and own several pieces of property that they rent out. Two of which are next door to us and across the street. The lady that lives to the north of us has three children. Shortly after they moved here from Oklahoma, the husband left. He was a chain smoking alcholic. He was constantly yelling at the kids. Which were not his. She is waiting for some settlement from a lawsuit with a big name store, not sure what actually happened. I talked to a old friend of mine that I saw stopping by her house, he was dating her for a while until he found out she was selling her pain pills to some of the other people that this couple rented to. The other house across the street houses a registered sex offender, he lives there with a lady (don't know if they are married) and two small boys. Neither the lady to the north of us or the guy across the street work. A third house that is in my parents back yard has guy that several that live next door to him believe that he is making meth. They have smelled ether on several occasions over the last couple of years. The police have been notified on all of these suspiscions. Being a town of about 140 people, my mother is the city clerk, my father is part time city employee after his retirement from the local elevator. We get this kind of people becuase the couple will only rent to people on social programs so the can get more rent, as the state of Iowa will pay about half of the rent. They have a couple more house, 5 in all out of approximately 60 in town that are liveable. Thier son owns 5 more houses and tries to rent to the same kind of people.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
> 
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Joel,

I so understand. Just wait, this story if you been following it has a history to began with.

With out giving away the next few chapters, all I can say is stay tuned.

This gets better yet.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
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Dennis,

You are so right. No matter where you live it surrounds us. Its so discouraging.

That is why I have worked so hard in building a neighborhood. Its a constant battle but it has its rewards.


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
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Dusty,

I am very proud of you…not only have you taken to rebuilding houses, you rebuild people, Ms D, your neighbors, and yourself. I did get a chance to look at the video you have posted on your website and you have done an absloutly magnificent job. Everyone has a path in life, most often we stray from it because it is difficult and painful. You my friend have taken the road less traveled and by what I read and what I see, you are the better for it. Carry on, good and faithfull servant.


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## Drew1House (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
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I think this is a great book… have you written a novel before?

Drew


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
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Drew,

Thank you.

And no I have never written a book. Most days I have trouble just writing my name.

This is my first attempt at writing a blog. If it wasn't for the unselfish help from a buddy who helps me with the editing, this blog would be a mess.

I'm humbled you enjoy it.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
> 
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Greg3G,

Thank you for the kind words. I am merely one of a number of people who have given of there time and talents.

I always think to myself, I am so lucky to have had the chance to experience and do what I have.

For that I am great full.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House…Murder She wrote,...said the note… that was left on my car windshield.*
> 
> 
> 
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You've got us hooked… All the interconnections, so many lives effected, great and terrible things, all in the life, downfall and renewal of one house.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*helecopters....TV crews and....*










After the murder of her fiancée, the traffic from the drug dealing that had occurred across the street seemed to stop.

Her mother, who frequently took care of her kids, had moved into the basement of the house. Another woman and her two children also moved in.

From time-to-time, the mother would be sitting out front watching the younger children and would respond if you initiated the conversation. There was no doubt that she was a special-needs adult. She seemed to be mildly retarded. She just didn't seem to have control of herself, let alone the children. She mostly yelled at them and frequently spanked the younger ones when they got out of line. She would get into verbal swearing matches with the older kids who just seemed to ignore her.

They did pretty much as they pleased.

Over the subsequent few months, I saw various police and county employees coming and going. The only reason I knew this, is that her daughter was friends of the next door neighbor lady's daughter and she would relay this information to her. The oldest daughter had been suspended and kicked out of school for some infraction, but it was never clear what this was.

One summer day, the mother walked across the street while I was working on my yard and confronted me as to why I had turned my dogs loose on her grand children as they rode there bikes down the street.

I stood there and stared at her in disbelief as to what it was she was accusing me of doing.
I own two basset hounds. If there not sleeping they are eating. That pretty much sums up the extent of their day.










Of course I denied her accusation. I attempted to find out the details of what she believed occurred, but she became very defensive and left in a huff.

I was dumbfounded.

After that, whenever I was out in the yard at the same time the children were there with their grandmother, they would shout abusive remarks at me, calling me a liar. I never engaged in a verbal argument with them because I knew it would just escalate into something ugly.

Besides, how do you defend the truth? I hadn't done anything and my conscience was clear.

Anyway, if you would have seen my basset hounds it was obvious the only thing they ran to do, was eat.

All summer there were incidents like this of the kids falsely accusing us of various things and making a scene in front of their grandmother.

I simply ignored them, and never responded to any of the heckling.

I work a split shift driving bus and have a run I do in the afternoon rush hour when I leave for about two thirty every day. I was at work on a ten minute layover at the end of one of my trips when I received a phone call from my business partner. His voice was excited as he attempted to describe the scene across the street from our house. There were helicopters overhead, reporters, several TV crews and a few police cars. He said one television station was just finishing an interview with the grandmother and oldest daughter, while another one was positioned waiting to do an interview. When I asked what was going on, he said he only had a vague idea and which he had gathered from speaking with a TV camera crew.










The guy said that the oldest daughter, who is thirteen, was playing on the north side of the house when a older man in a red car pulled up and tried forcing her into the car and driving away.

I interrupted and blurted out, "That is a dam lie! "Don't believe it or fall for it for one minute. I know she made it up. She's looking for attention." I then reminded him of all the lies that they had said about us and our dogs.

"I have to get back to work but I would be home soon." I hung up the phone.

I was doing a slow burn as I was driving; I could hardly concentrate. I was so angry. Over the last five years we had worked so hard to build relationships, fix eye sores, do numerous remodeling projects, and finding friends to buy houses in this area. We had formed an effective close-knit block club. The "north" side of Minneapolis already had a notorious reputation for violent crime. Granted, that was the far north area. We were about 20 blocks from the most dangerous areas. Never-the-less, we had our challenges. Although we didn't have the weekly murders, we had our share of trouble.

We had worked very hard to make a safe welcoming neighborhood. We didn't deserve to get all the media attention that I knew would come from the coverage of the alleged child kidnapping.

I just knew in my heart-of-hearts that this was a total fabrication.

And I resented it.

The only question I had was, how I was going to prove this and what would be my next step.

I was at work when this abduction was to have taken place. I normally am home during the majority of the weekday because of my split shifts. Being the block captain I am well aware of what goes on throughout the day in our neighborhood.

Finally, I my shift ended. I couldn't wait to get home. On the way home, I was listening to updates on the radio to this alleged child abduction. The details were vague. One detail really caught me when the news announcer said, "The thirteen year old girl described the man as short, well built and strong. He drove an older four-door red car.

I drove a burgundy car.

I am only 5'8 and a stocky farm boy who was still in very good shape.

I went numb in disbelief. I was in shock after hearing this.

I knew what I was going to do. It wasn't even a question anymore.

I called the police.

I wanted to talk to the chief who was busy giving radio and TV interviews getting the suspect's description and vehicle information out to the public.

I called the police department. I told the operator that I had some information I felt they should have regarding the alleged child abduction.

She put me right through to a captain who had been assigned the case.

He answered the phone identifying himself as the captain in charge of the investigation.

I gave him my full name and address, pointing out the alleged kidnapping took place directly across the street from where I lived. The next words out of my mouth were, "I don't believe for one minute this abduction happened, I am convinced the whole story had been made up."

There was silence on the other end.

I then proceeded to tell him why. I give him four very specific documentable incidents. I detailed incidents that involved this girl and her family over fabricated accusation they had made about people in our neighborhood.

I then offered to have him, or whoever he wanted, interview me in person and to check out my "burgundy "car. I also offered to prove I was at work during the time of this alleged incident. He said that that wouldn't be necessary. He then added that they were following all leads and that there were a lot of holes and inconsistencies to her story. He was very happy I had contacted him and told me he would get back to me if necessary.

It was close to 7 pm, about an hour later, that the television cameras started showing up again to get ready to do a live shot for the late news. By now, most of the neighborhood was standing in our front yard watching the commotion from the television crews.










I had noticed there was one person missing from this whole fiasco; the mother. There was no sign of her.

All the TV interviews only involved the grandmother and the child who was supposedly the victim of this abduction.

In the TV interviews the grandmother was doing all the talking. She was praising her granddaughter who had reported the whole incident to her, for her quick thinking and reaction to the alleged kidnapper. During this TV interview the thirteen old sat motionless on her lap licking a sucker and grasping a stuffed animal.

No sign of the mother.

While we were gathered in our front yard, the mother emerged from a car which had just arrived.

She got out, hollered at the kids in the yard and asked where the oldest daughter was. She was the one who was allegedly abducted.

"She's in the house with grandma." They answered.

The mother demanded, "Tell her she is grounded for lying. I will deal with her when I get home." She then said to the kids, "I'm going to a basketball game." She got in the car and drove off.

I remember thinking to myself, if my daughter had been involved in an incident as serious as a possible abduction, I would want to be with her. At the very least, I would take the time to see how she was doing!

It just confirmed what I already knew.

I attempted to talk to the TV crews and relayed my thoughts about this whole made up incident. I gave them some of the details why I thought this. I invited them to call the police department to confirm that I had reported this, suggesting that they inquire whether the police had found anything new, or had some of the same suspicions.

In time and after several phone calls, three of the four TV stations left. Only one of the stations remained to do a live broadcast.

I told the producer I understood their decision but felt it was irresponsible journalism to keep featuring this story until more facts could support what was alleged.

He said he agreed with me, but a much higher pay-grade than him made the decision to broadcast it live.

I went to bed.

The next morning our local police department had a news conference to update the public on the alleged abduction. It was a simple two sentence statement.

It read: "After further investigation of the alleged abduction, we have concluded that it never happened. We consider the investigation closed at this time."

I knew it all along.

This time I had a plan to end all this for good.

I started on it that night.

copy write all rights reserved D.Jerzak 04-01-07


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
> 
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oooh my goodness.
I was shaking. How easily the innocent can be drawn into circumstances and be found guilty.

Dusty, Dusty Dusty.

PHEW


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
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Dusty, you are talented in so many ways. To deal with the conflicts, false accusations, and trying situations and maintain your level-headed approach despite your anger is an accomplishment.

I can't wait to read about your plan.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
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Great story Dusty


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
> 
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Get a Basset hound for a guard dog! That will scare the murders away. Good thinking Dusty!


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
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*What a mess! :^( * Where are all the grownups? Oh, that's right, at a basketball game!

Nothing a little wood shed visit couldn't fix! And I'm not talking woodworking, either.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
> 
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my guess is.. as I rethink this, is that the little girl is quite smart in trying whatever she can to get out of this life or perhaps just coping with the death that she might have been witness to.. or… 
regardless, the professionals "should" be more involved to support these children. The little girl was definitely crying for help-and who was listening? And I don't mean the neighbours. They did their part by talking to the police and other authorities.

(taking my children's mental health hat off now)


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
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I'm with you Os. Dusty, I don't know how you are staying so calm.

My feeling has always been that the worst crime a person can make in this world is to have children and then not take proper care or responsibility for them. This so called "mother" (and that word is really not appropriate for her) should be held accountable for all of this mess.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
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and the professionals - -don't let them off the hook. She has no skills; she has other issues (and yes she does not have good parenting skills).. but the professionals - they have the skills; they do know; they do have good parenting skills….... ...

uh oh… get off the soap box Debbie .. get off!!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
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To Each of You who took time to comment.

Thank you.

I have been so busy that I have not been able to respond as much as I would like.

Thank you for the encouragement. I also don't want to say much at this critical stage in the story.

I'm hoping You will soon see the fruits.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
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I'm rooting for the Bassets!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
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Dennis.

The one constant in this journey has been my "shop" hounds. The bassets. They never get mad at anyone or anything. They have taught me so much about patience, and being mellow.

Stay tuned, the bassets will be front center again, in a few chapters.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
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When I read your story, it makes me wonder why the young people from our area would want to anxiously move down to the cities.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
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Dick,

Very good point, and a major reason we have a lot of the problems we do in the inter city of both Minneapolis and St Paul. When the stable homeowners with there family's leave the inter city and flee to the suburbs they take not only the tax base that supports critical services but the future with them.

One silver lining if you will is there are some really great bargains and beautiful old homes that cry out for the skills of woodworkers.

A lot of these with a lot of tender love and sweat can become stunning homes.

As far as a neighborhood, do what we did.

Build one, one neighbor at a time.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
> 
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Dusty
With more people with your attitude, I think your area will succeed.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *helecopters....TV crews and....*
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I can hardly wait to hear more about the "killer" basset hounds. Have you ever seen two meaner looking dogs? Lordy, I'll bet fleas don't bother with them because they're so passive. LOL.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The Plan was simple...*

The plan was simple.

I would buy the house and they would be gone forever.










Now I just had to figure out how to do this.

She never liked me and rarely had we spoken. Ever since the alleged kidnapping incident she virtually disappeared. I used to catch at least a glimpse of here coming and going, but now I never see her. She even started parking her car in the back of the house. I was unsure if this was to avoid me or just something new for her.

I remember going to work on a early Thursday morning and notice that her fiancée's who was murdered, SUV had been towed to her back yard and left. The front end was smashed up.

When I got home that evening her next door neighbor who was a big part of our block watch group walked over to my driveway and greeted me when I got out of my car. She asked me if I had seen the latest addition to the "junk yard" in the back yard across the 
street. I told here I had noticed this addition this morning. I asked her if she had called the city inspections department yet. She said "oh yes" first thing this morning. She added this would only add to the many citations and corrective actions necessary that the city inspectors had ordered.










She then pointed to the very bright signs posted on the front of the house and asked me if I knew what they were. I told her no. She said that the city had come and posted both a water shut off notice and a unfit for human occupation notice on the house today.










She also informed me that she was sure it was her house that she read the foreclosure notice in the local paper.

I had been waiting for this day for almost three years.

I could hardly contain my excitement. All I had to do was to figure out how I could get her to sell the house before some other slum lord can in and bought it for nothing on foreclosure and resold it to another drug dealing party or worse yet rented it out to some gang members.

I thanked her for the info and told her that if there was anything in my power I was going to do it to buy the house. I told her I would fix it up and resell it to some good neighbors like I had done with 4 of the other houses in the neighborhood.

She was excited with this prospect as she had put up with the family and all the trouble it brought not to mention having to stare at the junk yard out of her kitchen window for three years also. She knew the good work we had done and the nice new neighbors we had brought into the neighborhood.










I went to work.

While driving my bus route I ran every scenario through my mind how I could approach her about selling the house. I didn't know for sure if it was in foreclosure or not. I hadn't been able to confirm this yet.

Finally on the way home I decided on a plan.

I would simply go over knock on the door and ask her if she wanted to sell the house.

Very clever plan I thought.

The least she could do is tell me no.

I got home got out of my truck and before I chickened out I walked across the street and up the broken down front steps to the door which was missing a window and screen and knocked on the door.

I could hear noise and music playing in the back ground.

No answer.

I knocked again. And several more times after that.

I turned and began to leave when the door opened and she said "what do you want".

I figured at least she's talking to me I wasn't even sure she would do that.

I asked here if she ever thought about selling the vacant lot attached to this house because if she did I would be interested in buying it to build a new shop.

To this day I am not sure why or how that came out of my mouth. Yes I wanted the lot but not with here living next to me.

She said no she wasn't interested in selling the lot.

Ok, I said and thanked her for her time and said well if you ever decide to sell the lot of house you know where I live and I would be very interested in both. I turned and started walking and she said, "The house is going up for sale Monday morning".

I was shocked.

I asked what she wanted for it and if she had hired a realtor yet. 
She said she had.

I said to her that is too bad because I could have saved you thousands of dollars by not hiring a Realtor and not having to pay out any commissions.

That statement got her attention.

She said "how does that work"? I explained that with my back ground in being Para-legal and my experience in real estate I could do all the purchase agreements and then you can hire a attorney for a couple hundred dollars to look over the paper work and same a lot of money. For example I said, "If you listed this house for two hundred thousand dollars and the Realtor was going to charge you a six percent commission for selling the house you would save twelve thousand dollars that would go directly into your pocket rather than the Realtors.

I had her attention now.

She said" well the house doesn't go on the house until Monday.

I asked her if she had signed a listing agreement yet. She said she just did this morning. I asked her if I could see it and read it over maybe there was a way to save here several thousand dollars. I couldn't promise anything until I had read the listing agreement.

It wouldn't cost anything to look I said and maybe even save her several thousand dollars.

She hesitated but then said well why don't you come in I have the paper work in the house.

I said I would like to do that and told her my name and extended my hand to introduce her self and called her by her first name.

She shook my hand and said "all these years I lived across the street from you I knew your name".

I followed her into the house.

I was having a flash back.

As we entered she said you will have to forgive me since the murder of my fiancée things haven't gone very well around here. The place is a mess and I had to rent out some of the rooms to others so I could make the mortgage payment. I lost my job after the death of my fiancée. I had to take a lot of time off to cope with this loss and they fired me. I also lost my transportation because the vehicle that he was shot and killed in wasn't insured because I forgot to mail the check and it was involved in a accident with out being insured and the state wants to impound it. The bank also is repossessing the vehicle.
I was shocked at how candid she was being and forthcoming with all of this information.

I had learned more in two minutes than I had the last three years.

What else could I say to her but "I'm so sorry for all your troubles".

It was all I could think of. Inadequate as it sounded it was the best I could say. What she was confiding in me was beyond unreal. Almost surreal!

As we walked into the house I noticed the porch we entered in had boxes stacked up to the ceiling which was still just the sheetrock which had only one coat of tape and mud on and had yellowed and cracked. The hardwood floor was black from rain damage which had occurred because the windows were broke out.










As I walked down the hall I noticed all the trim, base, woodwork, casing and doors were missing. She must of noticed that I was looking at this because she said" when we first moved in here we were going to refinish all the woodwork". We tore it down and started sanding it and it turned out to be a bigger job than we expected and we lost interest and just put the trim out into the garage.



















I was beginning to feel sick. There were extension cords all over the floor. She explained that they had several shorts in the electrical circuits and the breakers keep tripping so they had to run extension cords.










We finally made it to the dining room. This cluttered room with exposed wires sticking out of the ceiling where there once was a grand chandelier. I was very sure of this. The woodwork was missing but there were glimpses of what was once a very grand room.

Through the piles of paper and overflowing ash trays she found the listing agreement. I read the listing agreement and it stated the selling price of one hundred fifty seven thousand nine hundred dollars. The commission rate was six percent of this or nine thousand four hundred and seventy four dollars. The listing was effective Monday morning.

I asked her what relationship if any had she with the Realtor. She said she found him in yellow pages and called him he showed up and listed the house.

I asked her how she came to that price she was asking for the house. She said " I just thought of it".

I realized what I was up against at this point.

I then set the listing down and looked her right in the eye and said I would be interested in buying the house and lot and thought I could not only save her a lot of money on the commission but on having to make repairs to get it in saleable condition. I also pointed out that I had concerns about the house making it through a mortgage appraisal inspection let alone the city's required inspections for certificate of occupancy.

Then she said "the city wants to condemn this house". She also stated it is in foreclosure and unless she comes up with several thousand dollars in less than two months the sheriff told her she would have to move because the bank would take possession of the house.

What else is all I could think of?

She said she had no food or money or job and the kids were hungry and her mothers social security checks were going to her fiancée who was trying too start a business but she was convinced that her mom was being scammed out of here social security disability checks.

I was afraid to think of or ask what else?

I explained to her that the contract wasn't legally binding until Monday. However I couldn't in good conscience just cut the Realtor out of this transaction. I explained that I felt she needed a competent person to help her navigate the foreclosure and represent her interests. I admit from a purely selfish stand point I didn't trust her and also realized this whole mess was a lot bigger than me.

I suggested that we could come to an agreement about buying the house and negotiate a fixed commission rate with him so he could represent her interests and yet save her several thousand dollars.

She looked at me like I was some kind of angel sent to save her.

I suggested that time was of the essence and we call him immediately.

She attempted to reach him but he was out. She left a message for him to call her.

She then said "would you like to see the rest of the house"?

"Yes please," I said.

She began the tour. The first room she stopped at was the bathroom. She said this was her favorite room in the house. I asked her why. She said "because before my son went to prison he remodeled and put a new tile floor in the bathroom for me for mother's day.

I couldn't get beyond the black mold on the walls and ceiling, or the missing sink.










I just nodded.

This was only the beginning.

Every room got worse.

I simply couldn't believe how bad the living conditions were.










It became obvious why the city wanted to condemn it.

For a while I was thinking they were right and the former grand old house should perhaps be foreclosed, condemned, and torn down by the city.

I asked to go outside at this point and look at the back yard and lot. I had seen enough of the inside. I think what finally did it to me was seeing the kids sleeping on the bare floor up stairs next to the dog poop.

Even I have limits.

I just found them.

Little did I know would be required of me and the tests to my limits I was about to face the next few days.

I'm not sure looking back I would of wanted to know what kind of adventures lied a head for us.

copy rights reserved D, Jerzak April 06-07


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


I'm sure it's hard to relive this experience. 
The choices people "have" to make, based on circumstances, skills, and stamina. That poor woman -look at all that the was trying to cope with. I'm sure that most of her vision just shut down.

But her angel had indeed arrived!!!


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


Thanks for the new installment, Dusty. What an interesting twist in the journey.


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


Good thing you're keeping this doecumented… it's gonna make a:
1) Great Book
2) Great Television Series or
3) Great Movie.

I think I wanna see two. I've already started reading the book, so I want to see the Television Series


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


Very good trip Dusty. The way that some people live and cope with. We can feel blessed with what we have.


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## ErikinColorado (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


I just discovered this blog and I must say, this is great journalism, Dusty. You should consider compiling all the entries into a book form. As great as the story has been so far, the salvation of the house sounds like it will be just as captivating. Keep up the great work!

Erik


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


Well we finely made it to the house. Great stuff Dusty!


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


I like how you leave us hanging Dusty. Stephen King would be proud. I kinda kept expecting a killer dog like Kujo to jump out at any second. Great story. I can't wait for the next installment.


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


Amazing story. You are an inspiration. I know you are a humble man, but you have truly been blessed. I am at a loss as to what to say to you….you have been given many challenges in life and you have dealt with them in the most honorable way. I am truly proud to have known you and your story. Please put this in a book when you are done so we can share it with others. Your story deserves a wider audience.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


You're a good man Dusty.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


Fellow Lumber Jocks,

I am so humbled that you have allowed me to share my story, I am not a writer, as I have said before most days I barely can write my name.

I am merely telling my story and experiences.

I thank each and everyone of you for putting up with my ramblings. You have touched me and will never know how you have contributed to my healing. With out the kind help on editing my story from a fellow lumberjock this would be gibberish.

As Dennis said "Well we finally made it to the house".

About time I know. I am sorry for all the detours.

Now the story gets interesting in my opinion. Up until now you just got the background.

I hope you won't be disappointed in the rest of the story. I hope you will be open and patience with me now as I begin to share …......"This Old Crack House….... goes to rehab…...

Stay tuned the real story begins now.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Plan was simple...*
> 
> The plan was simple.
> 
> ...


I agree with all of the above comments. I couldn't say it with any better words than they have, so thank you Dusty.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*They only liked me because of my money...*










We had no more completed the tour and I was preparing to go home when her phone rang. It was her Realtor. She attempted to inform him of my interest in the house and ask questions about the listing she had just signed with him.

This was a struggle and it was apparent that she was getting frustrated. I could only imagine what he felt like on the other end.

I offered to talk to him. She handed the phone to me.

I introduced myself and told him I was interested in buying the house "as is" and wanted to sit down with them both to work out the details of an offer.

I did inform him at that I was aware that his listing wasn't binding until Monday. I made sure he understood that I wasn't about to cut him out of the deal and his commissions. I told him I felt he had earned a commission but not the whole six percent.










When he became a bit testy, I told him that I understood. However, I reminded him that she was under no legal duty to do anything with him and his firm and that she could simply cancel the listing and his cut would be zero. I explained this wasn't my intention and felt we could work out a reasonable deal that would work for all parties. After all, as I pointed out, he hadn't spent a dime on this listing and had invested no time at all.










I also pointed out that the market for this house was not only very limited, considering its condition, but that she was under a tight time-line regarding the pending foreclosure. I also reminded him the city had started condemnation proceedings.

He sudden got quiet and asked me what my proposal was.

I told him I felt he should be paid a one time flat fee at closing of $3200.00. I explained to him I had talked to the home owner about the several thousand dollar saving she would realize by taking advantage of this. I again pointed out all he really had to do was write up the offer and do some minor paperwork. Then he would simply show up and collect a check for $3200.00 at closing for about two hours of work.

I thought this was a very fair offer. I wish I could make that kind of money in two hours.

He said he would talk to his client about this and would get back to me. He then hung up the phone.

I told her what he had said and reiterated to her that it was her money and she could do what she wanted and that it was a fair and just offer. I explained that there was a very good chance she may end up with nothing if the house hadn't sold by the time the sheriff's sale took place. She had no idea that this could happen. I then spent about 30 minutes with her going over all the possible scenarios.

This was one time I was grateful I had paid attention when I was going to college to become a Para-legal.

The irony of this whole thing was that this was what the real estate agent's job was suppose to be.

I was doing his job and looking out for his commission and he wasn't even here. I wasn't getting paid for any of this. In fact if I got all the parties to agree to sell I would be paying top dollar for a house that was heading towards condemnation.










What was the matter with me? I shuttered to think about the possible answers.

I then left and she agreed to call him back right away and discuss in private my suggestion and pending offer.

I left her my number and also invited her to come across the street and we could visit in private with out all the interruptions. I told her I would answer honestly any questions she might have and help her understand what her options were regardless if she sold the house to me or not.

She seemed skeptical but somehow I felt she trusted me.

I then left.

Within a thirty minutes, she called me and came over. I had been working in my shop and just happened to be working on a hope chest. She stood near the door staring at the chest and admiring it. I could tell she liked the chest a lot. I told her that if we come to an agreement on the house, I would build her one and she could use it store her pictures, memorabilia, and the various items she had collected of her late murdered fiancée. At the moment, they were just sitting in a pile on the dining room table.










You could tell this touched her.

I invited her into our home and offered her some coffee and cake. She accepted.

We visited for a while and then she informed me that she said she had talked to her realtor. They both agreed that my offer was a fair one, and that he should come over and write up the deal.

As she went out the front door she said, "I sure would like one of those hope chests."

I smiled and said, "I think that I can do something about that, let's see how the I meeting and offer I would like to make goes this evening."

Neither she nor I had any idea what was going to transpire later that evening.

He didn't like me.

She didn't like me.

I knew this.

Somehow, I had to convince them both to sell me that house for a lot less than the amount for which they had it listed.

They had decided that they would list the house for $157,500. This also included the vacant lot.

Even though housing had increased sharply in price during the previous few years, this was a steep asking price. The city had started the process of condemnation.

I had done my homework and even though she and the realtor had claimed the lots couldn't be separated I knew that this wasn't correct. With nothing on them, the lots were worth about sixty thousand dollars apiece.

But to me they were priceless.

After all I had gone thru and put up with over the previous two years; I was preparing myself for whatever it took to buy this house and vacant lot.

The realtor arrived and we exchanged pleasantries.

The atmosphere was tense.

I could tell he didn't much care for me. I understood that he knew I had him over a barrel and he was going to loose a lot of commission money if he had been able to sell the house at full commission.

I pointed the obvious out to him; that the house wasn't exactly in good condition. I also reminded him of the fact that the sheriff's sale was fast approaching and that I could just wait until the end of the redemption period, step in and buy it. He wouldn't get a dime.

He knew this and the risks associated with it.

I also knew the risks involved and knew that a negotiated settlement was in all of our interests.

I was also well aware that I was working with limited funds. I had a lot of my money tied up in our recent remodeling projects for which we had paid cash and invested over $18,000.00. I also had several side projects going which I was funding and that I wouldn't get paid for my work until the work was done and the new home improvement loans closed. I had to keep enough cash to fund all the work I had going. I only worked part time as a bus driver, so my salary was not enough to cover all the expenses. Buying this house would also mean that we would have to carry two mortgage payments and this wasn't something to which I was looking forward for any extended period of time.

To satisfy the city and make the house saleable, I was keenly aware of how much money it would take to bring this house up to just a basic living condition.

I was well aware of the long journey that was ahead of us.

Undaunted, I told the Realtor I wanted to offer ten thousand dollars less than they wanted which amounted to $147,500. I then presented him in written detail how I had arrived at that price.

Once again I was grateful I had paid attention to the class on real estate appraisal and investments in college.

He read my outline and the memo that I had put together which outlined how I arrived at my offer price.

He even agreed with my reasoning.

Now it was his job to convince her it was in her best interests to sell.

He seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion I had outlined in my analysis.

While he was walking out the door I said to him to tell her that I would give her that hope chest in my shop as a gift regardless of what the outcome of the offer was.

He was taken back by this offer and asked me if I meant it. I told him that if I hadn't meant it, I wouldn't have offered it.

He then went across the street to bring my written offer to her.

A short time later he called me and told me he had an answer and wanted to come back over.

She had accepted the offer but he had some concerns.

His major concern was my financial status. He was concerned that I might not be able to obtain financing for the mortgage because of the amount of debt I would be carrying. He knew of the two mortgages and that I only worked part-time. He was also concerned about the financial burden of my sideline business. He feared that while the mortgage approval process was occurring, time was running out on the foreclosure and subsequent sheriff's auction. She had no alternative but to bring her current past-due mortgage up to date.

I took a huge leap of faith at this point. I offered to give him $10,000.00 non-refundable earnest money if I was unable to obtain financing for a new mortgage.

I gave him a check for $500.00 and told him I needed to have 24 hours to transfer and arrange for the other $9500.00.

He understood, took my check and the signed purchase agreement.

He stopped at the door shook my hand and said it's a pleasure doing business with someone who has integrity and knowledge.

I thanked him.

Now the real work began. I was only short $9500.00 and had a little over 23 hours to raise the money.

At the time, I had no clue how I was going to come up with it.

Absolutely none!

copy right all rights reserved D.Jerzak 04-08-07


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, A man of faith.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


yup. an angel. Definitely an angel following the path completely on faith.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Hope your credit rating is better than mine!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Karson,

At the time that is all I had to go on.

Faith. Simple blind faith.

I had nothing else to sustain me.

.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


wow, what a story… and you're not even IN the house yet!


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Keep it coming, Dusty - great story!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Scott,

Some times there are many detours before one reaches there destination. This is one of those.

When I first explored writing about this house, I realized that just to show the end would be a mistake in my opinion.

There simply are to many important people, lessons and adventures that I felt and was encouraged to share.

I hope that I have not disappointed.

It has been a real healing process for me.

The reward for me above all has been the overwhelming positive comments and sharing of a number of the lumberjocks personal storys.

I can't tell you how many times I have been touched by their story's.

Its been moving and rewarding for me.

Inspirational.

I thank you all for that.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks again Dusty.
I've been playing catch up.


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## Hawgnutz (Mar 29, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks, Dusty. 
As an aspiring author, I fully appreciazte your style and story. Unfortunately, I just joined Lumberjocks, started on edition 25 or so, and now I have to play catch up….. but I will enjoy the story's initial hooks and background.
Keep the writing as good as it is!


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## bbrooks (Jan 3, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I have to play catch-up too. I read this one first, and now have to go back and read the rest.

Great job Dusty.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *They only liked me because of my money...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Hawqnutz.

Welcome to lumberjocks. I am glad you are here and enjoyed the story.

Thanks for the encouragement and compliments.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*










I had 24 hours to come up with $9500.00 in order for the purchase agreement to be legally binding. I knew this wouldn't be an easy task considering all the money I had spent on remodeling our house and had tied up with other jobs in progress.

I didn't want to go to the homeowners and get an advance on the work I was doing for them. I simply wouldn't put someone in that position. I have been there before and got burned. I have always had my integrity in order and never wanted to be paid until the job was done and the owner was completely satisfied.

I didn't want to advance my credit cards because I would need them to buy materials to remodel the house after I closed the deal.

Borrowing the money wasn't really an option because I still had to qualify for a mortgage after I raised the money for the down payment which this would go towards. Due to the debt we were already carrying, I knew obtaining a mortgage would be a challenge. Being an investment property, the mortgage requirements are much stricter. Suddenly this whole house purchase seemed to get more complicated and I realized that it was far from being a done deal.

For a moment, I felt overwhelmed and wondered if I had made the right decision.

I then looked across the street and decided then that I couldn't stand looking at that junkyard anymore and got back to the matter of raising the money.










One option I had was to sell my vintage 1967 Cadillac convertible. I had restored this car back to its original mint condition and had lovingly tended it for 17 years. I really only drove it a few times a year and had it stored the rest of the time. I certainly couldn't justify the expense of upkeep based solely on how much I drove the car, but I really was very fond of the car. It held some great memories for me.

I had acquired the car seventeen years earlier from a co-worker who was going through a divorce at the time. The judge ordered him to sell it and he had to split the proceeds with his wife. He had dragged his feet on selling the Caddy convertible, his pride and joy. The judge eventually lost his patience with him and gave him 12 hours to come up with a buyer or go to jail.

I didn't really want the car at the time. It needed a lot of work. I knew that lot of money would be required to do all the repairs. When he asked me about buying it I told him it would be fun to own the car but that I really wasn't interested.

He begged me to go look at it with him. He and his wife were separated and she was living at their old home out on the farm. I finally agreed to look at it.

When we arrived, we found that his former wife had pulled it out of the garage and drove it into the woods where she had left it. The hood was up, the battery was missing and a sapling was growing through the hood. The convertible top had been torn and the squirrels had been storing their nuts in the car along with several other critters that had been making nests.

I don't know who was sicker looking the car or my friend and co-worker.

I bought the car for five hundred dollars and had it towed to my house.

Over the next year I restored it. It brought it up to mint condition which was a lot of fun. I just didn't get to drive it much and was always afraid someone would hit it or that it would be stolen. So I didn't take it out much.

I decided it was time to sell it to raise the cash I needed.

That was a bitter sweet decision.

The first person that looked at it bought it.

It sure hurt to see it drive away.

I was only a few hundred dollars short now and would be able to raise that in time.

I went to the bank and got cashiers check for 10 grand and called the realtor up and told him I had the money in my hands.

He sounded disappointed.

The deal was signed and legal. All I had to do was get the other $137.000 in the next thirty days.

This was not going to be easy, but I wasn't fazed by this challenge either. We made immediate application with a major bank and lender in the home mortgage market. They sounded very encouraging. I told them right up front that time was critical so if they foresaw any problems what-so-ever, to let us know right away so we could seek alternatives.

They assured us they would but didn't foresee any problems. I felt an uneasy sense of relief.

I remember thinking this is going too smooth.

I made a couple calls a week to the mortgage company to see what the status of the mortgage was. I always got the same response from the guy who had been assigned our loan. He always said he didn't see any problems and that if he did, he would let us know.
Two weeks into the mortgage process and only two weeks from closing I hadn't got an approval yet. I was getting very nervous because the purchase agreement was clear. We had to close in 30 days or they kept the ten thousand dollars.

I called daily. I wasn't getting any return calls.

I was getting nervous; very nervous.

I finally called the supervisor of the loan department and of course they said they would have to research the loan and would call me back.

No call.

I called the supervisor's boss.

Same promises.

Still no call.

Now I was beyond nervous; even a bit panicky.

I had ten days until closing.

I called a few other mortgage companies and they all said even if we met their underwriting criteria, there was no way that they could get the loan approved and the title work done in just ten days.

Panic set in.

I told myself and my business partner that this was no time to allow ourselves to become frozen with panic but rather it was the time to get to work.

I stated making phone calls.

I called an old friend with whom I had done a lot of business in the past. I had even done a few mortgages with him. We had an excellent business relationship in the past. He had since sold his small business and joined a large banking firm.

I called him directly and explained what I was up against. I laid it all out and it wasn't pretty at that point. The closing was fast approaching, the home owner was under pressure from the foreclosing mortgage company and there were daily visits from sheriffs severing papers and summons on her for every thing from fraud to condemnation proceeding.

Needless to say, these were not happy times.

My buddy listened to my plight and said, "Not a problem! We will get the job done for you." He went on to say, "You and I have done a lot of business over the years, I trust you and appreciate you coming to me, I won't fail you".

He then said, "This is what I need."

That sharp pain I had felt in my chest was gone.

All I had now was a pounding headache.

I had no idea how bad this headache was about to become.

None.

copy right all rights reserved D. Jerzak 04-08-07


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


thank goodness I know that things turn out ok in the end-I don't think I could handle the suspense!!!!


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Maybe Dusty's writting this from jail for all we know.

keep it coming Dusty. Interested readers want to know.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Karson,

No not jail. I will admit I felt trapped and hopeless many times threw out several of my projects.

This was very true with the first projects I took on with Ms. D, and her yard and learning to use my hand.

Some how, I have so far ,had the strength to keep going and not give up.

I'm great full for that.

I have been blessed and have learned a lot. I hope sharing it with others may some day help some one else, even if just a little bit.

It will then have been worth all the effort I and others have spent writing my story.

One thing is for certain. I have started my healing process by telling this story.

Thank you.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


the gifts that are given in this life (the trials and tribulations) are meant to be shared, I think. That is what makes them such powerful experiences.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Debbie's comment reminds me of a favorite Scripture passage.

"When all kinds of trials and temptations crowd into your lives, my brothers, don't resent them as intruders, but welcome them as friends. Realize that they come to test your faith and to produce in you the quality of endurance." James 1: 1&2 [JB Phillips]

Or another version of the same verses,

"Dear brothers and sisters, whenever trouble comes your way, let it be an opportunity for joy. For when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow." James 1: 1&2 [NLT]


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


67 Caddy! OH! The heartbreak! Poor Dusty.


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Amen Don, well quoted.

After reading the last few paragraphs, Dusty why didn't you just go to your friend first? Hind sight is always fog free and 20/20.


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## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I haven't bought but 2 houses in my life but I totally understand Dusty's concern. With all their "We need something else from you to close" stories we finally told them we were not gong to close, we were tired of the runaround and got up from the table. "Sit down. We'll cl;ose"

In one of my "professions" I ferried single engine airplanes from the US to Europe, Africa and Australia. That was nowhere near as stressful as trying to get a mortgage. Or selling a 67 Caddie.

Dusty, this is a great series. I went back and read the string from the beginning. Can't wait for the next episode. Have you contacted "Fine Homebuilding" to see if they'd run it?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dennis,

I admit it stung when the caddy went down the road, even though I didn't get a change to drive it a lot, and it was really a expense and kind of a pain always finding a place to store it, and of course all the little things that keep going wrong.

It still was part of me, after all I had it 17 years.

First off I was up against the wall for the extra money, second in my heart I knew that there would be sacrifices. I some how felt that this would be one of those that in the long run would be worth the trade off.

I never have looked back.

The guy who bought it owned his own auto shop, and returned with it completely done.

We went for a ride. It was great but the best part was when he dropped me off in the driveway of "This Old Crack House"......

I was home.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


that's a great little ending to that part of the story. It was really nice of him to do that.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Greg3g.

The answer is simple. We had all of our business and current mortgage with this company at the time. Our first contact with them they made it sound like no problem we can get it done and we thought this is good because they had all our tax returns from the past and other related information.

My buddy and I had been out of touch for a while and he was more a commercial mortgage underwriter.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


and if it had gone well in the first place we would have missed out on this piece of the "nail-biting" story!!!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Sawdust2,

I have decided that I would rather have all my wisdom teeth pulled with a pliers than get a second ( investment) mortgage.

It would be less painful I'm sure.

Don't even get me going about all the bogus fee's and charges they come up with to get into your pockets.

Talk about creative yet shameless.

GRRRRRRRRRR

No Lee, I haven't contacted anyone about the story, but thank you for reading it and suggesting that it should be published.

I have chosen to share it with the lumberjocks here they are so encourgeing and have supported me in writing the story and reading it.

I'm great full for that.

I'm certainly not much of a writer, I try my best to be a carpenter and woodworker.

As far as writing I enjoy it but I wouldn't quit my day job.

I'm afraid I fall short in all the above.

I just keep trying, to become better at the crafts, thats all I can do.

I will keep plugging along as long as my hand holds out.

Its getting harder to do.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Msdebbiep.

All those nailing biting parts really were lessons in patience and character building. The defently were tests. At the time I had no idea why I was subjected to all of them and so many.

No I know.

I don't question them anymore.

Even if it doesn't make them easier at the time to go threw I know now I have the tools and strength to get threw them.

That is one thing I can say with out a doubt.

This house and it's experiences have had a profound effect on me and how I handle things.

I'm all the better for it as a person.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I can relate. I wouldn't want to relive parts of my past but I sure do appreciate the gifts that I got out of them!!

I think your character building will rub off on others as well.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


After reading your story Dusty, it makes me feel like I've led a charmed life.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dick,

I feel like I have also.

So many others have it so much worse than me.

I am great full for the experiences that I have had.


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## jockmike2 (Oct 10, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


You are a great example of how faith works in our lives. Sometimes when things are tough thats all we have to turn to, and he never turns his back on us never. I learned a long time ago to thank God for everything he puts in my life. Because at the time we don't know his reason why things turn out the way they do. Then one day BAM! it hits you right between the eyes. And you look up and say oh thank you Lord. Jockmike


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I mortgaged my soul and pawned my caddie…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Well said, Mike.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The OTHER shoe drops...*










Closing on the house couldn't come soon enough. The closing date had been moved to the first of June because the county had become involved with the family and the troubled kids and insisted they remain in school until they were let out for the summer.

The sheriff's auction was also scheduled for June 8th. The house had to close before then or I would have to start all over and wait for the redemption period to end before I could make an offer on the house again.

I couldn't be sure that the house wouldn't be redeemed, or that some other investor might step in and pay cash to the mortgage holder. I would have been left with nothing.

Worse yet, another nightmare in the making without my knowledge, would have been a neighbor worse than this one.

The current occupant claimed that her father had money and that he would step in and buy the house. I had no idea if this was true, or was just another fabricated story to keep me thinking and on my toes.
If it was, it worked. I worried everyday that something else would come up or go wrong.

To say the least, this was a very stressful time.

For some reason, she also thought that the ten grand we had given the Realtor for our earnest-money down payment, was to go to her immediately so she could pay off some creditors that were hounding her. A number of times, both the Realtor and I had explained to her how the house selling process worked.

However, she never seemed to understand it. Or, for whatever reasons she may have had, maybe she never wanted to.

She became very hostile over this. She took the on the victim role. It seemed like every chance she had, she would say things like, "If I wasn't a poor single black-woman who had lost her fiancée because someone murdered him and the white cops don't care about him or us you wouldn't be able to take advantage of me."

All I could do was to listen and let her rambling on and bite my tongue.

My tongue was sore for months.

I tried my best to help her with the pending move. I would ask her if she had started looking for a place. I would offer to save boxes and told her I would take over the mowing duties of her house and the vacant lot next to the house, if she liked, so she could concentrate on the move. There were three lawn mowers in the yard. All three were inoperable. Still sitting where it had hit the stand-pipe was the once new riding lawn-mover. The collision with the water pipe had damaged its main shaft causing it to stall. There it remained. Two other push mowers were left where they either died or ran out of gas.

In one sense, time was passing by slowly because I was anxious to get the house closed. But, on the other hand, I knew that there was a lot of work to be done before this happened. There was no movement towards removing the old boat and abandoned cars in the yard. Not to mention the piles of junk in the garage.

She still had not found a place for her and her kids to live. Her mother, who had moved into the basement to take care of the kids, never even knew that the house had been sold. She asked me not to tell her or her brother who had moved in along with some more children.

I think she was still mad at me for telling her brother that the house was sold.

She claimed that he was her meal ticket for both her and the kids.

I told her that if her and the kids needed food I would buy her and the kids enough to get threw closing and she could get the money left over after the mortgage and other liens were paid off.

She made some sort of comment which involved placing the food I offered in a location that was covered by my pants. In an effort to break the tension I said with a smile that it would be a physical impossibility to place all the food up there. She said she would love to try it.

Apparently she didn't have much of a sense of humor, because she didn't see anything funny in my comment.

Admittedly, my sense of humor was not what it had been, and my patience which was wearing thin.

Any efforts to talk to her were now met with hostility and a lot of yelling. I just stopped trying and called the Realtor and relayed my concerns.

He didn't seem to care much. He didn't even pretend.

The closing day arrived; not a minute too soon.

I got up that morning and looked across the street to see if they were moving. It was Friday morning. They had until Saturday noon to be out of the house.

Closing didn't go well. Amounting to thousands of dollars, there were many liens filed against the property. She wanted to dispute all of them. She claimed it was a conspiracy to take her money. We sat through several angry outbursts, a few lectures about us being racist. Apparently, we were only out to screw her along with the rest of white society. She threatened to walk out of closing.

For the first time, her Realtor earned his money. He took her to a private room and explained what had to happen for her to get any money. He went over the possibility of her losing it all together, if it was sold at the sheriff's sale which was scheduled to take place in seven days.

When I wrote the purchase agreement I added an addendum that allowed for escrow money for such things and having the old cars towed away and up to three twenty cubic yard dumpsters to hauled away all the junk and garbage in the house. I knew the junk was of no use to me.

After a short private meeting with her Realtor, she returned and we finished the closing on the house

She cried all the way through it.

She received a check for twenty-two thousand dollars, but she claimed it should have been forty-two thousand. Her Realtor again tried to explain how the liens and judgments worked.

She didn't want to hear anymore and spit out a few choice words, picked up the check and headed towards the door. While leaving she said, "Now I have the money to go pay for the apartment. At least me and my kids won't be homeless like I bet you would have liked to see us."

We all just remained silent.

Exhausted and grateful, closing was complete.

If this is what joy felt like, it sure felt strange to me.

We left. I kept questioning myself, "What had we got into?"

We had no sooner arrived home when she walked across the street while I was still getting out of my car.

"I can't move today because there are no moving trucks or vans available," she said.

"Didn't you reserve one? You knew over a month in advance you would be moving at the end of the month. We have even talked about this." I responded.

"How the hell was I suppose to pay the deposit, screw the owner?"

I didn't answer that.

Out of total exasperation, all I could say was," We have a pickup and could help you move if you like."

She smugly retorted, "Well, it's either that, or I can't move!"

I asked her where she was moving to.

"One block away, to that apartment on the corner," she answered, gesturing toward the apartment building down the street.

I couldn't believe what I had just heard. My worst nightmare was coming true.

Boy, was I ever wrong about that.

There were several, even worse ones, about to come true.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty: Are you laughing, Because I sure seem like it. The race issue, everyone owes me and if I don't get it then everyone else is at fault. Or at least the person I'm talking to is at fault.

Besides Dusty you didn't buy her house. You are just taking over payments, She still owns it you know.


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## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


"My tongue was sore for months." LOL

"Apparently she didn't have much a a sense of humor" ROTFL

"How the hell was I suppose to pay the deposit, screw the owner?" Hell, she screwed everyone else. Around here the word is "oppose." "How was I oppose to pay…" ROTFLMAO

Be 'pare she don' murk you.

Ain't a week goes by I don't have to deal with someone like this.
Dusty, you have just the knack to catch all the flavors. Keep it up.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I just want to know if you still made her the chest Dusty. I mean, you really ought to do SOMETHING for that poor woman (that's sarcasm Dusty ;-)

If you did any more, we'd have to nominate you for sainthood.


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## Drew1House (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I have seen a few closings like that. Some days are diamonds… Some… well… I would rather spend in the shop…

Drew


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


This is better than the old serials… One cliff hanger after another. At least she was moving a little further away… Did she not think the cops would "move" her once the property was no longer hers?


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


you have the patience of a saint, that is for sure!

Survival mode sure makes people say/do strange things.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Karson,

As you know I drive a bus through some of the most diverse neighborhoods in the Twin City's.

It goes with out saying I pretty much have heard and seen it all. About the time make that claim then something new comes along. That said, I have come to the conclusion that no matter what this is a ugly battle that there are no answers, just finger pointing blame and a lot of pent up anger and hurt.

Some one said once, " For those of you who understand no explanation will be necessary for those of you who don't none will ever suffice".

That pretty much says it all for me.

My job as a bus driver has taught me exceptional patience. It has redefined the meaning of "turn the other cheek".

I in turn have converted that patience to practice my crafts of stain glass and woodworking.

I used to be the most impatience person on earth. I still am. I just have learned how to manage my impatience and to put it to constructive use.

For example, my impatience has turned to a organized productivity.

I have to admit it isn't always easy. I try hard to remain calm and do my best not to respond.

It is said "he who loses temper or patience looses."

I remind my self of this many times a day.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Chip,

Stay tuned for the next chapter.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


everyone is just trying to live their lives the best that they can given the circumstances that they have been given, the skills that they have been given, the personality traits that they have been given etc. 
Some of us have the ability to turn things into a positive and some of us struggle with self-protection and survival, stuck in pain and anger. No right and no wrong; as Frank would say: just is.

What is the saying about not judging someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes? 
One cannot truly understand another person because we have not lived their lives as them.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Scotb,

The one thing I have learned is people in these circumstances have there own way of thinking and most of the time it surrounds around how they see something and not what is legal, logical or moral.

I don't even pretend to understand how that works for them.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Drew.,

My worse days in the shop are still better than a good day at work.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


*Quote MsDebbieP:* What is the saying about not judging someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes?
One cannot truly understand another person because we have not lived their lives as them.

But, there is such a thing as discernment and accountability.


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I think the lesson you demonstrated in the chapter is….if you can't say anything to help the situation, don't say anything.

Anything you would have said on several occasion probably would have blown up in your face (although it might have in future episodes….only you know that. 

I personally probably would have lost my temper on several occasions and probably would have contacted the Sheriff's office to ensure that I had a place at the table on sale day. I would have then contacted my friend who was helping me with the financing and told him what was going on; he probably would have helped you on this path.

Oh well water under the bridge….at least you finally got your Dream Home! ; )

Can't wait for the next chapter!


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


yes, there's still accountability and right/wrong…

It's easy to be empathetic when we agree with someone. It's much harder to do so when we don't.
I can empathize and be compassionate and still hold a person to be accountable for their actions. I can be empathetic and not agree with their beliefs, their needs, their motivations, and their choice of actions.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


"...that apartment on the corner." Look out Dusty!


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The OTHER shoe drops...*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, if we hear that you actually made her that chest then I think it's only fair that you make one for every Lumberjock in here too (well, or at least one for me ;-)


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*

The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.










It was 9:01 AM; everyone from across the street was sitting outside on the deck.

I walked over to see what was going on. From what I could tell not a single load had been moved.

I was right about that.

I asked her brother what was going one. He explained that his sister hadn't been able to organize a moving truck. He also said he was waiting for the dumpster that I had agreed to provide them. He wanted me to call the company and see where it was. I informed him that it would be there between nine and ten o'clock. It was only a little bit after nine AM. He was using this as an excuse for not doing anything. He did say that they couldn't do anything until the dumpster came. Already knowing the answer, I asked him if they were all 
packed. He said they were not going to pack just put it all in a big truck when his sister got home.

I said ok and left it at that.

I had to keep from biting my tongue off, it had just started healing and I didn't want to re-injure it again.

I changed the subject and asked where his mother was and if she was moving in with them. He said she and her boyfriend had to go back to Chicago for a family emergency. Apparently her boyfriend's brother had been shot in a drug deal that went bad and wasn't expected to make it.

I guess murders and trouble run in the family.

He told me that they had rented a car to drive back. I knew that they didn't have any credit cards, but I never asked how they could afford this. I had a funny feeling about the situation, but was more concerned about them moving out than to bother asking how they pulled the car rental off.

The dumpster had just arrived.

The timing was perfect for me to make my exit.

My business partner had come over and started videotaping and taking photographs of the house as it was.

We had decided to hold a neighborhood 'this ugly house party'. We were inviting the whole neighborhood and all of our friends to come and see this mess we had just bought. 
Our plans were to gut it out and in two months invite everyone back for a 'this pretty house party' to show everyone the new remodeling job.










Our plans were to explore sub-dividing the lot and building a new shop for ourselves and fixing up the house to sell it to a friend or a family. We had no intentions of keeping it long-term because we didn't want to be landlords and have to make two mortgage payments for an extended period of time.

My initial research with the city revealed that this could be done with a number of conditions attached. We had plenty of time to figure that out. Right now my focus was just to get them moved out.

This wasn't happening as expected.

It was almost eleven o'clock and not a single load had been moved. Her brother was getting anxious and declared, "She had better get her fat ass here soon, or this cat is out of here, and she will be hurting big time!"

I tried to assure him that she would be there shortly.

I was panicking inside but wasn't going to let him know that.

I offered and suggested that we could start moving out some of the heavier pieces of furniture and that way, when the moving truck arrived, we could just put them in the truck.

He accepted my offer.

We went inside to start moving some of the larger pieces of furniture.

I not only started to feel panic that she might not show up but I got sick when I went inside. Nothing had been packed. I had never seen such a mess in my life. Floor to ceiling it was stacked.

I suddenly went numb and for the first time.

I felt overwhelmed; helpless; powerless.

I really didn't know whether I should sit down and start crying or just give up.

I wanted to do both.

I gave up on anything going smoothly with this move. I certainly didn't have time to cry. I made a deal with myself; that time would come later after this was all over. My task now was to get her moved.

That is exactly what I did for the next nine hours. I helped her move two loads at a time using my truck and a small truck that she had borrowed but could have for only a couple hours.










The last thing I moved alone. I went back to the shop and got her the chest I had promised her. I brought it up stairs to her new apartment and set it in the living room and left.










After all she had said and done to me, it seemed ironic, that I was the one to help her move.

There is a God.










(a stained glass piece I made for my library in "this old crack house")

They were right when they said he works in strange ways.










(stained glass piece I made and have displayed in the basement)

Amen.

Little did I realize that hell was right around the corner and I would discover it very soon!


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


oh Dusty…. isn't life grand?? curve ball after curve ball.

Yes, God does work in mysterious ways and He sent you to her to give her a much needed helping hand from someone who would not judge, would not put another barrier in her path, and who would honour his commitments to her. Whether she received the gift in the way that it was intended is up to her and her journey. God (and angels such as you) can only do so much. The rest is up to her "free will" and her "free won't".

You can be proud of your angel work and the integrity with which you did it!


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


One step in front of another…"as we trudge the road of happy destiny" Keep them coming, Dusty!


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


You are right Dusty. Saying anything bad about them and their actions would only end up in yelling, and nothing good would come of that.

So quietness is the prudent answer.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


MsDebbieP

I never thought of myself as a angel. Rather than finding wings, I'm sure you could find horns.

Thank you for the compliment.

I just try to do what is right, no more no less.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


Dennis

Who ever said: 'The journey of one thousand miles begins with single footstep".

They weren't kidding.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


Karson,
So true.

One of life's truths is that there are many things out of our control.

Certainly there are many injustices and numerous times that I would like to respond, not always in a appropriate way.

There is only one thing I can do or control in a situation like that. That is, how I react to what was said.

That is really the only thing I have any control over.


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## roundabout22 (Mar 19, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


Dusty, I joined LJ after you had already started this, so the first time I saw an entry I didn't know what was going on. After the installments kept coming I had to go to the begining. I have to say I'm impressed with how far you came, and with your talents in telling the story. Keep it up, I can't wait for the next one.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


Roundabout22.

I'm humbled you have enjoyed the blog. It is my first attempt at writing.

With out readers like you supporting me It would be just words.

Its comments like yours that make me want to share my story.

Welcome to lumberjocks.

Thank you so much.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


I'm just wondering when all of the Lumberjocks can expect THEIR chest Dusty. I mean, she got one… with all of the spare time you have on your hands I think all of your devoted readers should get one also! ;-)

That'll be 800 chests to go Dusty! LOL.

Seriously, quite a story. If the saying about every good deed one does comes back 10 fold… you are a very rich man Dusty.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


Chip.

I have been blessed.

Period.

To have been able to experience the number of things I have and to be able to practice my passion in woodworking and stain glass is more than a person could possible ask for or want in a life time.

Being able to sharing some of my experience's and projects is not only a great honor but my small gift in return.

Thank you for letting me share with you.


----------



## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


I feel a little bit of satisfaction that her brother was starting to get nervous about the move - despite the fact that it was now only an hour before, technically, you could throw out all their stuff, or have the cops move them off *your* property.

To return all that with kindness, (and silence). So many lesser people would have exploded, or imploded.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


Scottb,

It was as close to a melt down as I want to be trust me.

Don't forget she only moved less than a block the way a crow flies.

Heck, on days with a south east wind she could smell my cologne.


----------



## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


Chip

In order to get a chest like he gave away you have to severely dis him. Otherwise you don't rise (lower) to the level where you need the blessing he bestows upon you.

I'll be looking forward to see if the story shows a change in her heart.I think (hope, trust, believe) that Dusty thinks, (hopes, trusts, believes) that she will have that change.

Does he know the end to this story, even now?
Has it ended and we are just awaiting the rest of the story?
Will there be a sequel?
I paid a dime on Saturday for many, many weeks just to see what Flash Gordon would do next.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


Chip,

If I learned one thing, it has been not to have any expectations of other people. Every time I have had them I have been set up for disappointment.

I have solved this problem for myself.

What works for me it I have learned to give of myself any talents or time I may have freely with out any expectations in return.

In other words no strings attached.

None.

I give because I want to and it feels good. It is the right thing to do.

What or how someone else receives or reacts to that ,is out of my control.

Period.

I don't concern myself with any of it.

I sleep well at night.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I bought a piece of Hell...on my way to heaven*
> 
> The purchase agreement stated that we would take possession of the house at nine o'clock, Saturday morning, June the first. They had until twelve noon to vacate the property. Anything that was left after that time, we could dispose of at our will.
> 
> ...


I don't think she'll change, her pains are too great.

And I'm with you Dusty-I can only control MY actions and I want to live honourably. Other people's choices/responses etc are their own paths in life.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*"Houston we have a problem..."*










Ok, the party is over. Seventy-five of our friends and neighbors had attended this Ugly house open house.

It was time to start the gutting out and total makeover of this old crack house.










I was aware that the process was going to be extensive, but I had no idea how extensive. I was soon going to find out; in fact, even sooner than I had expected.

I had been bothered by a strange foul-smelling odor coming from somewhere in the basement. I knew that it had been wet and that there was mold. This odor was unlike any mold I had encountered while working as a city and state building inspector. This odor was 
new to me.

I had planed on tearing down the temporary walls that were erected in the basement to make what was suppose to be two extra bedrooms. One was for the elderly mother of the former owner.










The windows in the basement had been busted out and had rotted over time. They were poorly repaired. The repair job consisted of two-by-twos with plexi-glass screwed over the rotten frame. Cardboard was stapled over this to keep the light out.










I don't even want to know why, let alone think about it.

I began the demo process. The first thing to fall out of the make-shift false ceiling was a crack pipe and a porn magazine collection.

Nice start, I thought.

If that was all I was going to find I would have been ecstatic.

As I got deeper into the demo I noticed that the smell was getting worse. I had knocked out all the remaining windows to vent the basement and help dry it out. I had planed on replacing all the windows with glass block. I knew I had to stop the water leakage in order to ensure a dry basement. If I was unable to sell the house to some one I felt would fit in the neighborhood, my plan was to build a mother-in-law apartment in the basement to rent out.

The house was zoned R2 so a duplex was legal. With all the zoning and building restrictions, the city pretty much nixed my plan to split the lot off and build another house on the vacant lot. This wouldn't have been economically feasible. I had initially wanted the lot to build a proper new shop. As my previous two shops had been converted two stall garages, I had to settle for poor lighting, cramped low ceilings and no heat.

I finally got the basement gutted out. The smell was worse and I still was puzzled as to its source.

There had been an old bathroom at one time over in one corner that had been taken out a long time ago. The drain was plugged up so it wasn't sewer gas I smelled.

Upon further investigation I found this old roughed-in bath that had cracked and settled parts of the cement floor. I thought this would be a good time to remove this section of floor and replace the bathroom. I had planed on putting in an egress window. I also planed a new efficient kitchen making it a completely self-contained mother-in-law apartment.










One fourth of the basement would be used for the laundry room and a utility room to house the furnace. I also planed to replace all the electrical wiring in the basement and possibility upgrade the main panel box.

I took a sledge-hammer and broke out a section of the cement floor in the old bathroom to investigate the plumbing drain, replace it and bring it up to code. I discovered that it was an old ball style drain and that it had rusted out. It didn't meet the current code, so I knew the city was going to require me to replace it.

The city already had given me notice that they would have preferred me to have torn down the house. If I was to salvage this house, their expectations were going to be demanding.

I assured them I was prepared for this.

In hindsight, I understand why they wanted it condemned; perhaps they were right.

I finished breaking the cement out and dug up the old drain. I cut off the old clay pipe and noticed the sand under the floor was wet and that it smelled.

I began cutting out the old drain when I discovered the problem.










I was not pretty.

Major in fact.

All the plumbing had rusted out and had been apparently leaking into the sand under the concrete floor for years. Urine and human feces had been seeping into the fill sand under the floor.










The smell had now become overwhelming.

I knew instantly this was a huge problem. It would not only require replacement of all the plumbing, but I would have to use a jack-hammer to break up the floor and remove at least two feet of the fill-sand under it.

There was no other way to do this, but one bucket at a time.










I had to break it all up, put the cement in a five gallon bucket, then carry it up the steps into a waiting dumpster.

After all the cement was gone, I then had to remove all the foul smelling sand one bucket at a time and then replace it the same way.

I wanted to sit down and cry.

What the hell did I get into?

That was it. I had started digging my way to hell I thought.

Little did I know that was only the beginning of what I was to find.










copy right all rights reserved D.Jerzak 04-12-07


----------



## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


That's what I call, getting yourself into some deep Doo Doo!


----------



## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks for the update Dusty. It's heartbreaking to hear about the way that people live and then others have to come in an clean up the mess.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


and it's heartbreaking to think that these people don't feel that they deserve or can have a different life…. for them, there "just is" is a sad life.


----------



## RobS (Aug 11, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


A human litter box…groosss!


----------



## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Each episode keeps getting us deeper and deeper into this mess.
Each new episode ends with a new beginning. It's like a computer game with endless levels.
When do we find the body? From what we have read I don't foresee a treasure chest.


----------



## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Oh my, what a pain in the back! I would have considered making it a walk out basement and punched a hole in the side wall.

I guess we'll find out later if that got rid of the smell.


----------



## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Almost sounds like a good excuse to fill the basement with cement (after knocking down the house) and making a basketball court, or a parking lot (for outside your new shop).

And to think she had her mother live down there?


----------



## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Bad flash back…I've done that 5 gallon bucket out of a basement thing…never again!


----------



## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


One word… Fabreeze. Gallons of it. No, make that a tanker truck.

Is this story going to have a happy ending Dusty cause this is really lowering my thoughts about mankind (well, you are certainly the positive note throughout but still…)


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


One thing I learned driving bus and dealing with the public is that the minute I think I have seen it all, I see something that is unimaginable and that I never had seen before.

This house reaffirmed this.

The troubling part of this is this was considered acceptable or normal to them.

In the lessons learned department: notice the location of the furnace. The plumbing that had rusted through and was leaking into the sand under the concrete was right next to the air intake of the furnace. In essence that furnace was taking in all the toxic sewer gas and was sending it through out the house in the duct system. Tests confirmed this. It was still in low level stages however in time it could of, and likely would of became deadly.

Stay tuned this is only the beginning.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dennis,

It sounds like "been there did that". My heart goes out to you and your back. I still hurt from that. One bucket at a time first the cement, then the new fill sand. Lets not forget the bags of cement that weigh 80 lbs, that you have to mix in a wheel borrow with a hoe and short shove. Remember also the water is shut off so you have to carry water down to mix the cement.

Is it grand when the wheel borrow tips over when you are mixing the cement.

Not.

I lost 11 pounds doing this work.

Next time I need do loose weight I am doing it the old fashion way.

Weight Watchers.


----------



## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


11 pounds you say?... maybe I should bust up my basement floor, and give myself some more headroom! (and buy some new pants)


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


you have stamina , Dusty - and not just physical stamina. I think I would have given up.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Msdebbiep,

You have no idea how many times I wanted to give up.

Countless.

That above all is what I am most proud of.

I never quit.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"Houston we have a problem..."*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Scottb

Call weight watchers, La weight loss, or Jenny Craig. Iff you need the numbers let me know I will get them for you.

I learned the hard way.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Let the credit card advances begin....*

Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.



















The plan was to use credit cards and advances from my line of credit to fund the cost of remodeling. The first order of business was to call the credit card company and get a credit card advance. When I do this I feel like such an idiot. The mere idea of it; to think that I have to beg, borrow and plead, to have the privilege of repaying the money at such high rates, borders on loan sharking.










I absolutely hate it. There is something fundamentally wrong with it; but what is one to do? I either had to do it or go without.

As I made the call, I joked to myself, "Don't forget to smile while they are doing it to you and don't expect to get even a kiss".

The next step after the phone call to the "loan sharks", was to call my old buddy David.

If you recall, he was the guy that I met while driving my bus, the master plumber and electrician who had had a stroke and couldn't do much anymore but supervise. He is the one who helped me with Ms. D's house.

I needed his expertise because I knew I had to replace at least every inch of plumbing in the basement.

As it turned out, I was wrong; it turned out to be the whole house.

Another one of those, "Oh man, what can happen next and how much will this cost?" moments.

I think there is a direct relationship between my experience and the Master Card "Priceless" advertising campaign. The trouble is, they aren't priceless. For me it seems they always are "Expensive Moments". The price is never less, but more.

I called David and he agrees to come over on Tuesday afternoon after he finished his work. He told me that he would still be on call and that he might be called back to work. I explained that it wouldn't be a problem and that I would work around that. I was just grateful he agreed to come over.

I had my work cut out for me because I had to have all the cement broken up, the contaminated sand removed and old plumbing exposed in less than two days. I also had to place all the material in 5 gallon pails and carry it up the steps to the dumpster outside the door.

I discovered another moment; I named it the "Advil" moment.










I hurt in places that I never felt before.

One bucket at a time, I removed everything.

I was now convinced the city was right, it should have been bulldozed down.










And for this privilege I paid almost one hundred and fifty grand?

"How stupid was I?" I questioned.

Luckily, I didn't answer myself. I had a good idea already.

David showed up and we got right to work. I did all the bull-work; he supervised. He made drawings and did a list of materials. We made a trip to the big box home center about a mile from the house. Just for the plumbing pipe and the parts needing replacement, this trip cost $1200.00.

And I hadn't pent a dime yet for fixtures. Ouch!

It was a feeling I would come to know only too well.

On the way home, David received an emergency service-call. He had to go.

He told me what to do next and that he would be back tomorrow.

I unloaded the truck. His wife picked him up to take him to work as he couldn't drive due to his stroke. As they pulled away, I waved goodbye and said, "See you tomorrow."

I never saw him again.

Later that day, his wife called me and said that he had gone to the service-call. There was an unknown problem in the swimming pool area at the college where he worked. He opened the door and was hit with a cloud of ammonia gas and Freon. He fell to the floor and was taken to the hospital.

He is in a coma.

Oh my god, I thought. I started shaking and sat down and cried.

What next I thought?

I would find out soon enough.

copy write all rights reserved D.Jerzak 04-014-07


----------



## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


So Sorry to hear you never saw your friend again.

I'm glad I know ahead of time that this story has some happy endings. If you knew what you know now would you do anything differently?

Diane


----------



## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


That is a scarry thing, just opened a door. An Advil moment I understand.


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## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Dusty
I understand the One Life to Live is looking for new writers.
Now, with the advent of medical problems it might open up General Hospital, too.
Maybe that could fund your project. :>)


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Diane,

Quote "If you knew what you know now would you do anything differently"?

I'm not sure I can really answer that.

What I mean by that is sure there are things I would do differently. Being the benefactor of hind site and being an excellent Monday morn quarterback that goes with out saying.

Certainly there are things that I would change or do differently.

That goes with the lessons learned part of life.

I learned long ago that regrets are a waste of time and a good place to dwell in self pity.

Been there did that. Never again.

As hockey as it sounds I am not sure I could of changed much. This had been a journey if you will, just indulge me for a moment, with the following reflections I have.

It has been a trip that at times I have been merely a passenger. Some times I drove, sometimes I simply rode.

One thing I am learning and would have done differently had I known what I know now, is to enjoy the trip or journey more.

I have found that reaching the destination maybe is a goal, but it also can be a real let down.

It was anticlimactic.

It's hard to explain but you finish something and step back and say "wow how nice", and that is it.

Its over.

Then you move on to the next project.

I try now to savor as many moments as I can. I try too stop and take in more of the scenery on the trip.

I laugh a whole lot more these days, at both myself and my surroundings. I don't take things so seriously.

After all we are all born terminal right?

We just don't know when our number will be called.

I am not willing to stand around waiting for mine to be called.

I remember taking a trip once with a buddy and flying out to Las Vegas. He flew a lot and I hadn't. I was a little nervous. He said "flying is safe", besides when your number is up that's it it's up time to go"

I said "yea but what if the damn pilot's number is up before mine"?

He never answered.

Its just one of life's fragile mysteries.

It is what it is.

Live.

I still cry these days. Just a whole lot less.

That is called living. To experience a wide range of emotions and experiences.

Clouds and rain lead to beautiful flowers.

The short answer to your question is.

Absolutely.

With out hesitation, but this time I would be much better prepared and equipped.

All aboard!


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Dennis,

Life is sure fragile isn't it!

Lee,

You sure brighten my day with your comments and sense of humor.


----------



## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


never again, huh? That was certainly unexpected. And here I was starting to think it was a sitcom, only to find that in real life there are some things that happen suddenly that only the Almighty has control over.

Write On!


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


looking at my own personal life, would I change a thing? No - it has made me who I am today. Would I want to re-live my past? Never in a million years. Done it once, thanks! 
But the journey IS about the learning, the growth, the overcoming of challenges, the twists and turns, the highs and the lows. .. we take what we get and we turn it into lemonade and drink it with a smile.

Your comment about being anti-climatic was really exemplified in my creation of the Challenge Table. The high was momentary, as the "way to go" comments were immediately followed with a "what's next?" question. The elation was brief and then it was time to move on to the next. 
It can also be compared to a wedding-months and months of planning and doing, and then the day arrives, everyone goes home and it is over. No more planning for the wedding… now what? Many couples really sink into a type of depression after this because the "rush" is gone.

And so, Dusty, I understand your comments and am proud of how you have handled it all!! 
Well done
(and keep writing)

(oh.. and sorry to hear about Dave…


----------



## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Dusty: "Thanks for the memories." We enjoy, not your pain, not your suffering, but, your joy that comes through that pain and suffering. You are showing us an inner strength that make you what you are. You can say, "I won't do that again." but something will come up and the memories of what you went through will assist you in making the current decision.

We love you, even though we have never been in your presence, But you have allowed us to be inside your mind and your heart.

Thanks Man. We appreciate the privilege that you have given us.


----------



## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Dusty, I hate to sound pragmatic about this but you are dealing with some pretty heavy-duty issues so… did you ever do an analysis of what price range you can expect to get for this house once you sell it? Comparatives, etc? It's one of the first things I would have done and maybe you mentioned it in an earlier blog and I missed it.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Chip, he did mention that he'd purchased/fixed-up/sold other houses in the neighbourhood (unless I'm making that up.. but i think that I read that somewhere)..


----------



## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Ahhh, I do remember that now Deb… thanks.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


This is arguably the most fascinating blog series I've ever read.

Dusty - you have a good heart; you have handled life's vicissitudes with aplomb. But more importantly, you have learned positive lessons that have built your character and strengthened your humanity.

You are not a product of this 'hot-house' generation but a person who has risked the storms and stood out in the cold - and you are the person you are as a result of all this.

It's trite to say this, but God does work in strange ways in our lives - my personal prayer is that, like you have, I learn to extract the good from the apparent bad that comes my way.


----------



## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Dusty, as one who has been though God's smelting process (a few times now.) I know that the most valuable life lessons are learned through the process. We learn that that God will never give us more than we can handle, but more than we think we can. I have lost a lot of friends, too many funerals. I still cry when they play taps and that's ok. I am a better man now than I was 20, 10 and even 5 years ago. With every challenge put in my path, I endure, I grow and I learn and I try really hard not to make the same mistake twice. I am honored to be allowed to read your story and see how you handle the obsticles on your journey.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Lumberjocks,

Thank you for the heart felt responses. They speak for them selves, I couldn't possible add anything to them so I won't.

I will say Thank you from the bottom of my heart.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Chip,

To answer you question, yes I did comparable's for the neighborhood. I also had bought and sold other properties in the neighborhood. The median price range at that time was 145,000.00 dollars.

At that price you didn't get much, trust me.

For this area and it being so close to the core of Minneapolis that has always been considered "affordable" and more or less a starter home. Affordable housing has been and continues to be a major challenge for Minneapolis and St. Paul.

I if you recall, I negotiated a price 10 grand lower that asking because of the condition of the house. I knew that wouldn't come close to covering all that needed repair, and replacement.

The reason I was willing to pay what I did was two fold. One I was so ready to have the problems across the street go away and knew if I didn't do something soon my investment that I had made in our neighborhood and current home would more than likely yield a price much lower than what it really is worth.

Secondly, we had the attached vacant lot which the option of spinning it off and selling it was possible. This option alone was worth over 30 grand conservatively.

At the time a new development had sold out only a few blocks away and another large one had just started to be built with the prices starting in the low 300 thousand dollar range.

If you were wondering if I was, or am in danger of having a home of that we have spent more buying, and remodeling than I could reasonable expect to recover my investment from, the answer to this question would likely be yes.

We knew that would likely be the case when we chose to take this project on. That said and in all fairness I have had several sound offers for the property that would allow me to recover my investment.

That really isn't an option at this point. I joke that the next move for me will be in a pine box that one of my woodworking buddy's has made.

I don't think I could sell this house after all the work that has gone in this house.
To me it would be like selling a priceless artifact. I doubt I could ever find something like this again.

As I write the rest of "This Old Crack House" I think it will become clearer. Remember this is a two stage process. First the rehab of the existing house, followed by the new 1200 square foot addition we build a year later.

With out giving too much away I would ask you to stay tuned, I think you will find it interesting.


----------



## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Well put Karon and Don… You just can't find anything like this in any other woodworking site - and we're all richer for it.

And all we can say is thanks Dusty… we so eagerly await every chapter.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Dusty - You strike me as a very intelligent person with extrordinary integrity and as I read the blog the numbers just weren't adding up though I always remembered the attached vacant lot, which I assumed was your "ace in the hole" so to speak. And I certainly realized this was becoming a labor of love more than anything. Anyway, this is a wonderful story with so much more to it then just money and I am always looking forward to the next episode. As I have said before, you are a saint and thank you for writing it.

Don - Forgive my naivete, but what is a "hot-house" generation? I am not familiar with that term.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Chip, by "hot-house generation", I was making reference to people who live life in a hot house like environment.

A plant that matures in a hot house has not developed the strength to stand up to a harsh climate or winds. Take such a plant out of its hot-house, and when the first cold weather comes along, it withers and dies. Nor has it needed to develop the strength necessary to stand up to winds. The first wind causes it to bend and snap.

I trust the analogy is now obvious.

Dusty learned the hard way and as he experienced harsh conditions he became stronger.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


that's a good terminology Don.
I watch it happening with our young children-protect the daylights out of them, make everything "child-oriented"........ and then the expect the same type of treatment all through the rest of their young years .. up until they start getting some hardships that they have to overcome or they wither.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Very good analogy Don and I couldn't agree more… thank you.


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Don, I'm not sure I can totally agree with your analogy. I have a teenage son who at times drives me up the wall but yet still astounds me on some things. I have not made this general knowledge but in 2001 he was diagnosed with a brain tumor. Within the next 30 days, he had the tumor removed, regained most of his motor function, and had even returned to school when the drs said it would be at least 6 months before that would happen.

We have done pretty well by our kids. Some of them are showing a sence of honor that has not been seen since WW II and have taken a fight started by group of terrorist to them. It doesn't matter if you agree with the President or not, our young soldiers, sailors, marines and airman have done an outstanding job given the limitations they have been given. If you have a problem with the way the war is been run, it not that generatoin's fault, it is ours.

I will get off my soap box in a second, but I need to say one more thing. What did our parents think of our generation. Probably, pretty much the same thing. This goes on in every generation. My Dad thought I was waisting my time when I asked to join the science club at school so I could learn more about these new small computers. He changed his tune when i came in 3rd in a state meet by building one from scratch in under 10 minutes. only 27 seconds behind the leader. (I dropped my battery and it shot across the floor.)

Have faith in them. I know its hard, even I have to remind myself once in a while. They will do great things, we did and our parents did.

Dusty, I think down deep you knew you were going to keep the house. It has great bones and the space you wanted. : )


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Greg3g,

There is no denying I wanted to keep the house. I always had a vision and dream for rehabbing it.

The problem was I was only half of the decsion and had a existing mortgage and couldn't afford to make one half two house payments.

I didn't have a buyer lined up for the other home and my business partner wasn't interested in moving across the street with all the work that had to be done and the draw backs of the small kitchen, no main floor bedrooms and no upper bath.

At this point my business partner was a lot more interested in making money on the remodeling jobs we took on than a labor or love or passion.

The old saying money talks was being shouted loud and clear.

We had did enough "practice" houses and he felt it was time to make some money or get out of it all together.

He is a good business man and was right about that.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


*Quote Greg 3G:* "Don, I'm not sure I can totally agree with your analogy."

Greg, you are absolutely right! I am guilty of over-generalizing. There are many fine young people out there that defy my comment. I know some of them and have been very impressed by them. When I ran a large business here in Australia, I found many absolute gems - young adults that were bright, articulate and willing to "give it a go" as we say in Oz.

It certainly wasn't this type of person, nor the type your son represents to whom I was making reference. Nor was I making any comment about the fine young adults that give of their best for their country. Anyone who does their duty for their country, regardless of the worthiness of the cause, is to be admired and honored.

Who is to blame? Well to carry my analogy further, it's not the plants in the hot-house who are to blame but the husbandry of the hot-house keeper. So, my friend, we probably agree on this subject more than you first thought.

By the way, it wonderful to hear of you son's fine recovery. God is still working miracles today.


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Let the credit card advances begin....*
> 
> Obviously, all the plumbing had to be replaced. I had not planed to do this nor budgeted for it. This was a major setback for us. I had a strict budget to follow and not wiggle room for unexpected costs.
> 
> ...


Thank you Don, and yes He does, every day. It was not my intent to come across as angry, sorry if it seemed that way.

I guess the best advise I can give to all of us (Myself included) is get involved with our young people. Teach a kid how to use a saw and hammer. The acorn you plant today will may just be the next major designer in the future.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Any one can be a plumber... I thought*

I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.










I felt so helpless.

A lot of "what ifs" came and went with my thoughts. One was unthinkable.

Reflection was routine. I was constantly, thinking about him and what happened. I was truly powerless. The worst part for me was that I had no control over any of it and I hated being in that situation.

I had to move on. He would want that and I had no alternative.

How?

I knew more about needle work ,crochet, and knitting than I did plumbing.










Every inch of the plumbing in the basement had been ripped out.

Twelve hundred dollars of plumbing parts were sitting in my garage and I didn't have a clue what I was doing. To add to this, the plumbing problem that I had uncovered was not anticipated or budgeted.

My budget was not only on a diet, it was starving. It wasn't really a realistic budget; it was more like a wish list.










I'm sure that you know the type; where the actual costs are near double the estimate and the cost of labor to do the project, three times.

In my mind I justified it by telling myself that it was work that had to be done. I reminded myself that a big part of it was that it costs more to do it the right way. I hoped that my rationale would make me feel better about things.

That is how the term, "wishful budget", came into existence.

Only one thing left to do; do the plumbing work myself.










"I could do it," I told myself, "I could do it." Over and over I keep telling myself this.

But in reality, I broke into a cold sweat because I had no clue where to even start; none.

I stared at the old plumbing I removed. A lot of it was still intact. It suddenly came to me. I figured that if I just copied what I took out by using like-pieces that I had bought with David, it would work out.

I had no clue what I was doing but, I had some hope now. That hopeless feeling left. I even felt a big smug now that I thought I had solved my plumbing problems.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Perhaps the gases from the old plumbing had overtaken me.

I went to work priming, fitting, gluing, and setting all the plumbing parts in the new sand I had replaced.










Did I mention that I had to dig down and replace two plus feet of sand in the basement sub floor?










If you ever want to find out how tough you really are, I suggest you do this. Other wise take word that this is listed on the fun scale in the remodels dictionary between the words good and gonorrhea.

Don't forget, the packing of the sand in three inch lifts with a hand tamper to 100% density so the cement floor doesn't crack, settle and leave a void under the cement.

I would rather have my fingernails pulled out one by one with pliers than do that again.

One good thing came of this. I never ever again claimed, when viewing those competing in a triathlon, "I could do that!"

I finally finished that part of the roughed-in plumbing, but it took hundreds of trips up and down the stairs to the dumpster, and to the sand-pile that seemed to be located about five miles from my basement floor.










With great confidence, I called the city building inspector to do a rough-in inspection. After all, I thought, I had copied what had existed and he surely wouldn't find anything wrong with that. I even thought he might say, "Nice job for one who isn't a master plumber".










It looked darn good to me. I was thinking, gee this plumbing isn't so hard. I was feeling pretty good about all the money I had saved myself. The job I had just completed looked pretty professional to me. But what did I know?

The city plumbing inspector arrived promptly at 9 AM, our appointment time. I greeted him at the door and made cheery small-talk. I was so confidant of my work.

He mentioned that he had reviewed the plan of the project which I had submitted for a building permit, so he was somewhat familiar with this project.

He did say that he was surprised that I hadn't decided to tear down the house.

I wondered why he said that.

I took him to the basement and showed him my masterpiece. He got very quiet as he looked over the installation of the new plumbing.

Several minutes passed; not a word was said. The silence was beginning to get to me.

That feeling was beginning to return. It is that feeling you get when know you are in trouble but just not sure how much or how bad.

One word seems to describe it; trouble.

The thought that popped into my mind as he was pacing back and forth was, "I'm screwed".

That helpless sinking feeling had returned.

The inspector finally broke the silence.

"I wish you had asked me to help you with this layout before you glued it all up and installed it." he said, almost apologetically, "But, I'm sorry, this all has to come out."

He was filling out a red tag at this point.

He attached this to the main building permit I had so confidently posted.

All I could think of now was, "What the hell I was going to do now?"

I had no clue; none.

copy write all rights reserved D.Jerzak 04-15-07


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


It looks good to me too, I am wondering what was wrong with what you did.

Diane


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


Ah Building inspectors . Ask them before and they say, "It's not my Job to do your work!", ask them afterward and it's, "Why didn't you ask me before?" Too bad he wasn't invited to the block party.

Well keep them coming Dusty.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


Diane,

Th code had changed so one of the floor drains I installed didn't meet code even though it is readily available at Home Depot. That is one of the most common lessons learned I have experienced in home remodeling. Just because they sell it doesn't make it legal or code compliant. I got nailed for the sweeps, the venting, and pitch for drainage.

Pretty much anything and every thing.

I'm much wiser today.

My pocket book can attest to that.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


Karson,

Interesting how that works .

The IRC forbids the inspector from designing or telling the homeowner or contractor how to design or build the project. They are only to convey what the code calls for.

Its a catch 22.

I have gained substantial experience in this area and will be sharing some of that in up coming chapters.

I think you will be surprised.

Stay tuned.


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


Please tell me you didnt tear all the plumbing out because of one drain


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


Obi,

No, it was as I poorly tried to explain. I didn't give all the details and code defects because its is pretty mundane in nature.

Simply put it was easier and cheaper to cut out sections, of the plumbing.

Remember from the lessons learned department, dry fit (don't glue up) had I done that in the first place, the fix would of been a lot less costly not to mention only taken a fraction of the time.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


so you just DUG yourself DEEPER into THE HOLE…. you didn't have enough with all that sand and cement lugging????


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


I was lucky. I had the inspector over to check the main line into the house so I could cover it. He said he could not design the drain system, but he could show me what he wanted to see so it would pass his inspection. Then he drew it all out on paper. I had bought a couple of books, but they didn't seem to help much. What a headache!


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## Drew1House (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


I have been there as well. It is even more fun when you know something is a bit sketchy and you are hoping they won't catch it.

Drew


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


Drew,

Been there did that. Can you say, hold your breath and make them walk fast or ask a million questions in hopes that they will be distracted and not see or ask about something.

I have learned now ( the hard way) to ask in advance or just to let the chips fall as they may.

If they feel as though you are covering up something they seem to look harder.

There is a lot of trust involved.


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## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


Dusty, Here's what I think of plumbing inspectors.

Back in 1968 I had my house rolled to the back of my lot, & had a basement built. I had to put in plumbing before they poured the floor, so I made a list of what I needed, & went down to the local hardware store. I filled the cart with all the plastic fittings. I went to the check out, & the clerk asked me where I lived. I told I lived in town.

He then told me that plastic pipe wasn't up to code in the city limits, so that was the end of that.

I ended up having to buy cast iron pipe, to be up to code. I had a plumber friend help me install the plumbing. We ran a pressure test to check for leaks, & it was OK. After that I noticed one line running to my shower wasn't sloped correctly, water would have to go up hill. I was going to correct it, but my friend said leave it alone we'll fix it after the inspection. 
Sure enough, my plumbing passed inspection, that's all he did was run a pressure test, he never bothered to check anything else. I fixed the error after he left.

If I hadn't noticed the problem myself, I would have had a flooded shower. After that episode I was wondering what good it was to have inspectors. That's all they wanted was their fee.

PS: About a year later the city stepped out of the dark ages, & allowed plastic pipe to the code.


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## Drew1House (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Any one can be a plumber... I thought*
> 
> I called David's wife every day to see how David was doing and if he came out of his coma.
> 
> ...


Now days we use cast for vertical drops in very high end homes to keep it quiet… It was however a pain to work with. Where I live most cities introduced a stucco inspection in 2002-2003 and prior to that if the house has stucco… WATCH OUT! At least if someone knows they are gonna get looked at they will be a little more careful.

Drew


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*

I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.

I had only one choice. Because I couldn't afford to hire a plumber, I had to do it myself.










The city plumbing inspector, who red tagged and failed my rough-in inspection, offered to help me. He said he couldn't design the job for me but could and would help me with what I had to do. That also included showing me what would meet code and how to achieve this.

I accepted his offer.

I took my bruised ego and a note-pad up to city hall, where I sat down and drew out the layout of the new plumbing. To avoid getting too far off base, we then scheduled progress inspections.

He was a god-send.

He explained where I went wrong. Although my intentions were good, following the old plumbing layout was my mistake. The original plumbing was done to an outdated code. Many improvements and code changes had taken place since it was originally installed. When you do a remodeling job, one of the building code requirements, is to bring things up to the current code.

It makes sense, but it still stings and it costs a lot of money. Money I didn't have. I was already mortgaged to the hilt and in order to carry me over until the house was sold or rented, I had taken out a line-of-credit.

One thing that I learned is that, in the mean time, all the interest accrues. I still had to make monthly interest payments.










Ouch! That hurt!

I worked on the house every spare moment I could. Not only did I have a first and second mortgage payment to make, I also had other commitments.

Time was money; literally. I had very little of either to waste. I had to make every day and dollar count.

Doing all the work myself, was the only way I could do this. It was not only important that I did it in a timely manner, but that I did it right the first time. There was no room for my ego to get in the way. I had to ask questions concerning how things were done, and I had to be sure I got good sound advice. When in doubt, ask more questions.

Unfortunately, when you think you know everything, this wasn't always easy to do.

My ego was in a critical condition. However my wallet was on its death bed. So attending to the needs of my wallet won out.

I called for an inspection on the basement floor rough-in. Everything passed with flying colors. I was so relieved. I was on cloud nine. Some of that bounce had returned to my step.

But, oh how quickly that can leave you.

I was about to learn the lesson that even the best laid plans and intentions can go afoul.

Sure enough, one of these surprises was right around the corner.

Will they ever stop?

Copy write all rights reserved D.Jerzak 04-16-07


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*
> 
> I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.
> 
> ...


this doesnt count as a full chapter… two pages. Take a nap and come back later when you can type a full chapter. Even if it takes you a week or two to catch up on some o them bills and some o that work. We can wait.


----------



## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*
> 
> I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.
> 
> ...


Thanks for this entry, will be awaiting your next one. I'm glad the plumbing passed with fly colors. I sure hope your friend will be ok.

Diane


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*
> 
> I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.
> 
> ...


aren't we greedy !! 

give us an inch and we want a mile.. give us one chapter and we want two.

it sounds like your inspector was another one of angels on earth.. Sometimes we forget that we have so many.


----------



## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*
> 
> I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.
> 
> ...


You were very fortunate to have an inspector like that.
I'll be waiting for the rest of this story.


----------



## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*
> 
> I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.
> 
> ...


Never thought I'd be cheering for an inspector. (Actually I have rarely had any problem, just sometimes the system dosn't fit the need)


----------



## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*
> 
> I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.
> 
> ...


Very good Dusty. Were behind you.


----------



## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*
> 
> I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.
> 
> ...


With all you have been through, God knew you needed help and he sent it. What a wonderful Father we have! I know how you feel about those payments. When I built my first house, the interest payments were taking my whole pay check. Lucky for me I was still living at home with my parents.


----------



## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Call 911 my ego had been mortally wounded…Plumbing 101 for dummies...*
> 
> I was overwhelmed and things felt pretty hopeless at that point. Although making some small progress, my friend, David, wasn't doing well. He was still in a coma.
> 
> ...


Building a house whilst you still live at home - there's an inspirational idea. LOL


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*

The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.

The first priority was to find the smell in the basement. The source of the smell was the plumbing pipes located beneath the concrete.










All the plumbing had been removed and reinstalled. The next step was to mix cement and repair the large sections of the floor that had been removed to gain access to the plumbing.










I delayed repairing the basement floor for two reasons. First, I wasn't sure whether the main stack that came from the kitchen had to be replaced. Second, until I opened up the walls of the old kitchen and adjoining bathroom I didn't know how much, if any, of the old plumbing would have to be replaced.










I had a few inquires about my plans for the house. Most wanted to know if it would be fixed up and then sold.

One party was very interested in this house. He was a real estate agent and had previously purchased two other houses from us. He was very familiar with my work and had easily resold them at a handsome profit.

I simply wasn't in a position to know what the end result would be. It was way too early in the remodeling process to make such a determination.

It was imposable to determine a selling price until all the problems and costs associated with them, had been identified and completed.

At this stage of the remodeling, I was proceeding as if I would be making the necessary repairs and selling the house. I currently co- owned the house across the street in which I had done extensive remodeling. I wanted to avoid making two mortgage payments for an extended time.

Certainly the budget had changed as the result of the unexpected plumbing problems.

I knew that I would have to modify some other portion of my plans for the house as I simply could not afford to go beyond my budget constraints.

I began the demolition process in the old kitchen.

It was so small you had to go outside to change your mind.

It wasn't functional, needed major updating, it had only one set of cabinets and a counter top that measured less than six feet.










Apparently, the sink had been leaking for an extended period.

The kitchen was long and narrow. It measured only six feet by thirteen, with a cramped bump-out in which the refrigerator sat. This area was only four feet by six and shared a common doorway.










The floor was in very bad shape having been covered with cheep press and peel tile which had begun to curl up at the edges.










A booth that had been part of the original design of the house had occupied the four foot by six bump-out area with a windows located on one side of the booth. The booth was in rough shape, provided very uncomfortable seating and not infrequently delivered a sliver or two to its occupants. The wooden seats and backs of the built-in benches were covered with the carved initials of previous inhabitants of the house.










Making the decision to demolish the kitchen and start from scratch was a easy one. Frankly, there wasn't anything worth saving.

The real question was, what would be found inside all the walls?

What I found wasn't pretty.

I clearly remember thinking, "Oh no, this isn't good!"

I got a sick feeling.

Again.

Copy write all rights reserved D. Jerzak 04-16-07


----------



## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


How bad could it be?


----------



## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


You sure took some many good pictures to tell your story. I am looking forward to your continued story.

I'm wondering if in the end you wished you started all from scratch? It is amazing you did it in the end!

Diane


----------



## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


Keep them coming Dusty.


----------



## DanLyke (Feb 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


Ouch. On the edge of my seat, waiting for the next one!


----------



## Chipncut (Aug 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


*Atta Boy Dusty !!*


----------



## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


When you bite into an apple and find half a worm, you may as well eat the rest ; ) Keep'm coming.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


(Dan.. did you get a sliver??)

one thing after another.. 
sounds like my married life! sigh

ok Dusty.. what did you find?? !!!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


Diane,

*"quote" I'm wondering if in the end you wished you started all from scratch? It is amazing you did it in the end!*

In a lot of ways I did start over. What I am referring to in this statement its I pretty much gutted the house to the studs, exposing the bare walls, and blocks in essence starting over.

I ended up replacing all the plumbing and wiring, and insulation. I had to bring the house up to current code requirements.

I have said several times that this house was in process of being condemned. Almost everyone wanted it including me at one time torn down.

We live in a throw away society. That is a fact. In some cases I understand why it is better to demo a house like this. For example, if a house is so infected with mold or a structural defect or other life health safety issue.

I am still a strong supporter of preserving our history. Recyclying when its feasible.
"" 
The argument could be made that even though all the labor was done by myself and some friends who I exchanged work with or some clients who had me build some furniture or do a project in exchange for tools or materials, you still have to account for that cost.

Not to take into account something for your labor is not only unrealistic but sending a message that your labor isn't worth anything.

That simply isn't the case.

The experience I gained doing other remodel jobs, and certainly this challenge was priceless.

I believe there was no better training for me to learn how to build furniture building.

I found the challenges in rehab work to be a great trainer.

I have often said that I feel woodworking is really nothing more than problem solving with the use of both power and hand tools.

If you practice using the tools and the rules of the craft, over time you will be come a proficient woodworker.

One last statement if you will indulge me just a little bit. If everyone could do the work of one of the following trades , then it wouldn't be a craft or have associated with it a profession.such as"carpenter", "woodworker", "electrician,""plumber", and so on

The only difference in my mind between a pro and a non-pro is one is better at covering up there mistakes better as a result of more experience, and they more than likely derive most of there income from their trade. One other factor maybe a professional designation or certification.

I know a number of outstanding, and gifted craftsman who never had a day of training and only do it as an hobbies. A lot of these friends and colleagues would put to shame some so called "professionals".

All these crafts are so much more than a title.

Passion and heart have as much to do with it as a title or name.


----------



## PanamaJack (Mar 28, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


Continued good luck Dusty!


----------



## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


The word is "copyright". If you want to protect it do it right. 
(I'm giving free legal advice to a former paralegal?)


----------



## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


Hey. It's been four days.
I'm having withdrawal pains.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


Sawdust2

I know it has been that long. It seems like several weeks because I have not been able to log on.

I have the next chapter done and will post it later this morning.

Its good to be back on.


----------



## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


Actually Dusty, the only difference between a professional and an amature is one of them gets paid. Doesn't mean that they can cover up any better. I saw a set of kitchen cabinets that were done by a professional and i could have improved them with 1 stick… a match


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


Obi,

I agree.

I also am still amazed what people can pass off for "being professional".

Not to mention what they can charge for this.


----------



## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *"This wasn't Martha Stewart's Kitchen"…*
> 
> The plan was to gut out all the areas of the house that were inhabitable and where repairing would not be feasible.
> 
> ...


That just isn't (or wasn't) a kitchen… I'm sure it was something back in it's day, but I couldn't even imagine surviving a weekend (let alone a holiday with family) with only a 6 foot countertop!


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*I needed to win the lottery … and see Dr Phil…*










I discovered during the demo of the old kitchen that the sink had a slow leak that had been dripping water for quite some time, causing the subfloor and floor joists to rot. The plumbing had also been leaking in the walls for some time. This discovery caused me to open up the whole wall to access what needed to be done by exposing all of the old plumbing. As a result, I decided to tear out every inch of the plumbing and start over from scratch. I also had to repair and replace the old rotted subfloor and joists.










That familiar sick feeling returned again, as did that pain located in my wallet.










Keeping with my overall plan of gutting out what had to be replaced, in order to make the house livable and code compliant, I moved on to the upstairs floor.

I wouldn't be able to get an accurate picture of what needed to be done, or the costs, until I had the entire house exposed. I knew this would be substantial and time-consuming. I wasn't prepared for the enormous task ahead of me; however I had no choice at that point; there was no turning back.

It's like being in a swamp full of alligators snapping at your heels. It's hard to remain focused that the purpose for being in the swamp was to drain it.










I was faced with an enormous and likely very expensive challenge. This required some rethinking and additional planning on my part.

It because clear to me that I would have to make the repairs and sell the house. I simply wouldn't be able to rent the house out for sufficient enough revenue to cover both the mortgage and repairs costs. I saw no alternative but to take out a second mortgage for these unexpected costs.

I had already received a credit-line increase on my credit cards, but I would maximize these in short order. Besides, in my opinion, the interest rates were unacceptable and bordered on loan sharking.

In order to qualify for a second mortgage, I would have to also raise my income or add some supplemental income. My part time job as a bus driver paid well, but not nearly enough to qualify me for what I would need to hold two first mortgages and a second. This second mortgage would be in addition to my other monthly expenses. These included the carrying costs of various projects I had taken on to fund my shop and remodel my home.

Simply, I was over-extended financially. I thought how nice it would be to win the lottery.










Getting back to reality, I had to quickly make some hard choices. Time is money and both were running out fast. Every day that passed my financial resources were hemorrhaging faster than I could replace them.

One word pretty much described my feelings at the time, and it wasn't joyful.

Stressful.










I had to work my split-shift as a bus driver and work on the house between shifts during nights and on the weekends. This resulted in an exhausting seven day work-week.

In addition to the physical demands the job placed on my body, I found the biggest challenges were mental. Not only was I worrying and wondering about the costs and how I would fund the project, but I found it difficult to remain motivated when I was so physically tired. I began to question my own resolve, my physical abilities and my skills to complete the work; in short, I felt overwhelmed.

But, I had to stay focused and not offer my resignation to the house because I knew it would accept.

This was not easy.

I had a lot of support from friends and others who had followed my work in the past. My business partner was there with me every step of the way.

He never showed his doubt. I knew he felt the same way that I did, but he trusted that I would figure it out and we would get through this project like we had so many others.

For the first time ever I had serious doubts. I knew I didn't dare show this part of me to anyone. I just keep these feeling to my self and forged on.

I was walking wounded; never-the-less, I was still walking.









Barely.

Something had to give and it did. It wasn't what I wanted or had imagined.

It was devastating.

Due to budget cuts, my friend, Sid, shop helper and sidekick for the last four years, had been laid off from his school teaching position of some nine years. He was distraught, as was I.

I knew it would be very hard for him to find a teaching job. Not only had nine hundred teachers just been laid off from one city, but the budget was still millions in the red. He was at the top of the pays scale due to his Master's Level qualifications and was not the kind of teacher a cash-strapped school board would be hiring.

I knew he would be looking towards me for a full time job. If I had been able to afford to hire him I would have done so in a heartbeat. I needed help with this project and we had worked together on several projects. He had caught on to remodeling well and had become a valued asset.

I had to find a way to hire him to help me. This would buy him some time to find a new teaching job.

This wouldn't be easy. I was already over extended.

I felt a moral obligation to help if I could. He had worked with me for over four years remodeling, doing furniture repairs, and building commission pieces that I had taken on to pay for more tools and to fund the remodeling and side-line business costs.

I had to find a way, but I could only take on so many extra shifts as a bus driver and that wouldn't be enough to cover his wages.

The only logical solution was to pre-sell the house; get a signed purchase agreement that spelled out all the items that would be done in the remodeling process. I had one prospect who was interested in the house and I had done business with before. He seemed to be the logic person to go to.

He was interested in the property. I really didn't want to sell this property at this stage because I had no idea how much the remodeling costs would be until the project was completed. I also knew that without a purchase agreement, getting a second mortgage for remodeling would be almost impossible.

I was hesitant to enter into a formal purchase agreement with all the variables that remained. I was in a classic catch twenty-two position. I decided to enter into a good faith Intent to Purchase Property Agreement. This is a much simpler legal document to use in these cases and make it easier for either side to adjust the final purchase agreement if necessary.

This legal document gave me a lot more leverage in securing a second mortgage to complete the property remodeling and prepare it for final sale.

I felt good about solving the immediate money shortage problem and finding a temporary way to give Sid a job until he was able to get another teaching job and land back on his feet.

My focus now could get back to the house and all the challenges that it presented.

The next major focus was going to be the upstairs. This not only turned out to be a major challenge but another unexpected additional expense for which I had not budgeted. In short I was facing another setback.

How many of these would I face?

This weighed heavily on my mind.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I needed to win the lottery … and see Dr Phil…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


and on top of all that you were carrying, you took it upon yourself to provide angel support to yet another desperate soul.

It sounds like your previous experiences/careers/trainings sure have become an asset for you!! Isn't the Universe wonderful how it provides what we will need, even though we don't know it at the time.


----------



## jockmike2 (Oct 10, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I needed to win the lottery … and see Dr Phil…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Wow Dusty, you sure have a heap of resolve and faith. One is faith in yourself and your abilities. Your story is an inspiration to me. I thought I'd had it tough. You show us all that with resolve and tenacity you can surmount about anything. Good luck and God Bless, and thank you for the inspiration. jockmike


----------



## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I needed to win the lottery … and see Dr Phil…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty. If you were a septic cleaner. No one would want to get next to you. Your were in over your head. It's too bad that you couldn't see the problems before making your purchase offer. The town was probably right . Demolish it and build something new.

But I'm a thousand miles away and you were there. Your still alive so I guess you made it through.


----------



## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I needed to win the lottery … and see Dr Phil…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Before I got a good look at that alligator I though it was a crud encrusted electrical junction box that you discovered upstairs!

The plumbing looked like the commercial for an antacid.

I love how you are handling this crud encrusted upset stomach of a renovation.

BTW thanks for the fix.


----------



## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *I needed to win the lottery … and see Dr Phil…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I would normaly say something profound like "out of the frying pan, into the fire." but you past that point several episodes ago. : ) You were up to your neck in it.

Funny thing, all the things you did in the past seem to be coming together to help you when you need it most.


----------



## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I needed to win the lottery … and see Dr Phil…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I'm thinking long term mental therapy is in order. It sounds like the beginnings of a PTSD diagnosis.


----------



## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *I needed to win the lottery … and see Dr Phil…*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I think all of you, including Dusty is missing the greatest part of this story. His growth.

Dusty said it wasn't worth it, I say Bull********************. He drove a bus and had paralegal experience.
Now he's a carpenter, sheet rocker, plumber, finish carpenter, insulation installer, electrician, those are professions that take months or years to achieve, and he did it all in one house.

I say Priceless


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*This was no stairway to heaven….*

I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.

For starters, access to the children's upstairs bedroom was gained by temporary stairs that had no railings. Fortunately, building a new railing to keep people from falling down the stairs was a no-brainier and relatively easy to fix. 


















The leaking roof and the windows which had been broken out and left open had caused major damage to the walls and floors. The old wood paneling had been defaced by the children. There was no electrical in the ceiling for lighting and the few outlets that existed in the walls had not been done to code. All the carpet had to be ripped out because it had been soiled by their puppy. The children had chosen and painted a kaleidescope of clashing colors on the walls and wood trim.










In short, the upper floor was another disaster. All I could do was to demolish it and start over; and so, that's what I did.


































I choose to simply cover the old paneling with new sheetrock. There was no reason to rip it out. I covered the walls with half inch drywall and the ceiling with five-eighths. I replaced all the trim. It had all been painted with bright red and pink colors and wasn't salvageable anyway.

The carpeting was beyond saving, so it was an easy decision to pull it all up and plan for its replacement.

My biggest fear was how much damage had been done to the insulation and walls. After extensive testing it was determined that they were not as bad as I had feared.

I remember thinking that is was time something went my way. I had become so numb to bad news it seemed I had just come to expect it.

One surprise was to find what little existing electrical wiring was up there, was the old knob and tube wiring. This required me to fish all new wiring from the electrical panel located in the basement. This was a major undertaking. The walls had recently been brought up to the new energy code by the county for the previous owner. She had qualified for a government grant and the work was done at no cost to her. However, like many government programs, it fell short. The grant only covered the cost of installing the insulation. Even though it would have been easier and cheaper to do it at the same time, none of the other code deficiencies, like the vents, roof, electrical, or plumbing, were done.

At the end of the day, this caused more problems than it solved.

The insulation was pumped into the wall through holes drilled through the stucco from the outside. Two inch holes had been drilled to gain access to the cavity between every wall stud, and then plugged with a poorly matched patch; it looked terrible, like some giant woodpecker had worked its way around the house.

Another fine government program at work.

The windows were in bad shape. Many never opened and had to be repaired. None of the screens were intact and many of the glass panes had broken out and never been replaced.










If the weather was wet and windy the rain simply came inside. I guess the kids just moved their mattress away from the windows. There was never any furniture upstairs, just piles of bedding which was soiled by the dog and from the weather.

My work was cut out for me.

Starting over was the only practical thing to do.

The previous owners had attempted to rebuild the steps. They made these out of pine and the rise and runs were all different and not to code. Climbing up the stairs made one walk like a drunk. These had to be replaced.










The house was built in the 1920's. The upstairs had never been properly finished off. The headroom for the stairs was minimal. It didn't allow a queen size box spring to be taken up the stairway.










I decided to cut an opening above the stairway, place a header in the floor joists and extend to the sidewalls of the stairways. This wasn't a simple task. To make matters worse, the walls of the stairway were plaster and lath.


















Not fun.

With one hundred and sixty-seven sheets to mud and tape, I never forgot how much I hated to do that kind of work. To make matters worse, it was very warm upstairs.




























It was a major task to get one sheet of rock up the stairway at a time. The headroom was only 50 inches and there was an abrupt turn at the top landing. Fortunately, once we got the rock to the top of the steps we could just flip it and get it into the room where it was needed.

After one hundred and sixty-seven sheets of 5/8 inch panels of sheet rock, countless pails of dry wall mud, hundreds of lineal feet of trim and casing, plus a major reconfiguration and reframing of the bedrooms and the creation of two walk-in closets, the upstairs was ready to be rewired. This sheet rock job took about half again as much time as a normal rock job should because of the steps and the limitations they placed on us.

I thought I had really started an early journey to, or at least a preview of, hell.

I promised myself that I would pray more after that experience.

I couldn't afford to replace all the windows but I had to replace the rotten sills, glass, screens and hardware. I wrapped all the windows on the outside with aluminum. I really learned how to use a break( the machine that bends the aluminum to form fit the window mullions and sashes) by the end of that job. The purpose for wrapping the windows is to protect the wood from the elements. This process although time consuming is much cheaper and very effective compared to replacement. I had to do that to all the windows in the house. Including all the doors, they numbered over one hundred.

I can't tell you how many times I asked myself, "Why am I doing this? Why didn't I just tear it down and start over?" On bad days I would say to myself, "I paid how much for this?" Well-meaning neighbors, who had designated themselves 'sidewalk superintendents', reminded me of this option several times a week. It was a constant mind battle.

I know they meant well, but it sure took its toll and was most discouraging.

The remarks seemed to have a direct relationship to how bad a particular part of the job was going. I became used to them and simply let them bounce off me. I developed a thick skin very quickly. Any effort to explain whatever it was I was doing was fruitless anyway, so I just went quiet and tuned out all the remarks. I considered them 'Job's helpers'.

This job wasn't a slice of heaven. In fact it was just the opposite, or as close as I ever wanted it to be.

I wanted to quit so many times. I was in over my head; I knew this, but couldn't do anything except keep moving forward. Everything I had was riding on this house and completing the job. I felt powerless, even hopeless at times. I was down to one hour at a time some days, just trying to muster enough strength to go on.

I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare and couldn't wake up.

Looking back now these were some of the most challenging days of my life. In all honesty, if you would have asked me whether it was all worth it, I would have answered a definite no!

I don't know why I didn't give up. Perhaps I was stupid, a fool, or a glutton for punishment. Maybe even a little bit of each.

I had never been tested like this. I thought it couldn't get any worse.

I had finally reached a point in the house where all the major demolition work had been completed. I had exposed all the defects of the house. I knew the plumbing and wiring had to be replaced. The basement required a new floor and the upstairs needed new sheetrock and framing along with new steps and several other miscellaneous repairs.

Almost all of the woodwork trim and casing on the main floor had been taken down by the previous owner. They found out it was a much more difficult job than they had imagined, so they just abandoned it and placed the beautiful old woodwork out in the garage. Since it never had functional garage doors, it was left exposed to all the elements.










This was a disaster.

I was fairly certain, from what I had been able to see, that I wouldn't be able to salvage much, if any, of the woodwork. Even if I was to be able to find a match in some residential salvage yard, this was going to be an expensive fix. I had hoped that I might locate it all in one place and just have to install it.

That turned out to be a naive thought.

I wasn't looking forward to this part of the project at all. The more I thought about it, the harder my head pounded. I was already eating aspirin like candy.

After contacting three companies who specialize in harvesting old woodwork trim, doors and other items from old homes, I learned just how much I had been dreaming.

One had enough casing only to do two rooms. It didn't even match the style of what I had or had existed in the house when it was built. The worse part is they wanted almost ten grand for this trim.

I politely declined and left.

The inevitable was next, and unavoidable.

I had to finally sit down and do a scope of work to be done on the house. I had to face the music and do a room by room assessment of what had to be done. I had to break down every room and every part of this house and categorize it into three categories; what had to be done to meet code, what needed to be done to improve the project to make it saleable, and what I wished I could do.

After breaking this down to a detailed list the final question was, how much could I afford to do?

I reached for the aspirins I kept in my pants pocket. Somehow, I could feel that I was going to develop a pounding headache.










I wasn't disappointed.

copyright all rights reserved D.Jerzak 04/24/07


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


you should have bought earplugs so you could have tuned the neighbours out all together!! How nice of them to support the little voice in your head that was probably saying "told you so".

what was your timeframe, again?


----------



## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Don't you just love those kind of neighbors? The ones with all the advice, but won't lift a hand to help. Dusty, after this you can survive anything! What a story!


----------



## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Very nice Dusty. It seems that the bad is over and at least now everything is just putting it together, (with costs of course).


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


that's what I was thinking too, Karson-- I think I can actually see a light at the end of the tunnel.


----------



## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Yes, aren't neighbors like that lovely. I have a few like that myself always full of useless questions and comments that are everything but helpful.

I agree with what everyone else has said, what a hardship this all has been for you. I hope you don't take on another like this.

Diane


----------



## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Human nature. I can't do that so neither can he, so I'll tell him. Death and life are in the power of the tongue, Human nature again speaks death, doubt and unbelief. It'll never work, you'll fail, might as well go and die.

Way to go Dusty… keep on strokin'


----------



## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


That's Dusty/ Caught between the rock and a heart place.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Very good sawdust2.


----------



## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


This is sounding like bootcamp - keep piling on one worse thing after another until they break you (or come within a hairs breath of it), then start building you back up. Nice to see things starting to take shape, (ten grand for two rooms worth of salvaged trim!?)... It sounds like things are finally on the upward path, but why do I feel like there are many more plot twists and turns to come?...


----------



## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Ever notice that neighbors always seem to show up when things are not going well, give advice but never offer to help. Been there, done that. This reminds me of the Biblical Job. Now I know why you wear a hat in you picture, you must have pulled it out or it left on its own under the stress. : ) Just like mine : )


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Sawdust2-perfect description!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


MsDebbieP.

Your question " what was your timeframe, again?"

I wanted to complete the project ASAP. I had two mortgages and had pretty much advanced all my credit cards. I needed to complete the project and had entered in to a "intent to buy" agreement.

The buyer wanted to take possesion of the property as soon as I could complete the project.

At the time this was fine by me. I was exhausted and short on cash.

This was about to change.

Abruptly.

Stay tuned.

There are several chapters left to "This Old Crack House".... the rehab….

Remember we have not even come to the "This Old Crack House gets an Addition" part yet.

We aren't even close to this yet.

I warned you lumberjacks, who have been following my dribble and journey.

I offered to jump to the end.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Lumberjocks.

I have a lot to say about the "neighbor sidewalk superintendents", but have to reserve comment at this point because they become a big part of the story of "This Old Crack house" story and I don't want to give it away.

I will say this your comments are right on.

Stay tuned for "how to silence the critics and neighbors with out saying a word".


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## Skinna (Aug 16, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


neighbours like that wouldn't last 5 minutes in my neighbourhood, I wouldn't put up with that kind of negativity when I'm trying to get a job done. Nothing a good solid headbutt doesn't fix!


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


lol well that should do something, that's for sure, Skinna. lol

Dusty-how's your neighbour lady doing? Is she still at home?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Ms Debbie

Thanks for asking, Ms D is doing great. Not is she up and around but has made a full recovery. She has only slowed slightly.

She keeps me hoping. Last weekend I had to help her can 25 courts of tomatoes.

Of course, I couldn't do anything right according to her.

And of course I let her think she was right and knew what she was doing.

Wink


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


Great job Dusty. We were wondering about Mrs D.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This was no stairway to heaven….*
> 
> I knew that simply describing the upstairs to the house as needing a lot of work due to its very poor shape was an understatement.
> 
> ...


you are quite the neighbour/friend!!!

Tell her that we said "hi"


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*

The curb appearance of the house was terrible.










The yard had never really been taken care of and was overrun with weeds. In areas where the dog, old cars and other junk sat for long periods of time, the grass had died and large brown spots were left behind.










The stucco was cracked, pieces broken out and long rust streaks ran down the side of the house. Most of the lower windows were no longer functional and all needed new caulking and glazing. Most had various pieces of the window missing and were beyond repair. Almost all had signs of serious rot. None of the screens were intact and several were missing.

One of the hallmarks of a house built in the early 1920's is the piano windows that take center stage in the formal living room. These windows didn't open and were in terrible condition. It was sad to see how far the previous owners had let everything deteriorate to a condition almost beyond repair.










The upper windows had been broken out and the screens were missing. The front deck was in disrepair and had started sinking on one side. It was in dire need of a new stain job.

The chimney needed tuck pointing, and several bricks were missing.

All the fascia and soffit needed major attention besides just paint.

The fence between the yards was broken and crooked.










Neither garage door worked or could be repaired.










All the external doors of the house had to be replaced or repaired.

In the front porch, the north windows were missing. This allowed the rain to come inside, which caused major black staining and damage to the Oak floors and woodwork.

The downspouts were missing, or had long ago been taken down and not replaced. This caused water to gather and seep down into the basement. This resulted in mold and premature deterioration to the cement block. The basement windows were all broken, missing or patched together with whatever was available at the time to make repairs.

All the sidewalks had either sunk or were cracked. They had heaved which made for uncomfortable walking, not to mention the safety hazard.

The only thing that really didn't need immediate attention was the roof it had been replaced three years earlier because of a storm and an insurance claim.

Other than these things listed and a few I have omitted, the house seemed in good condition.

I had to to keep telling myself this to avoid being overwhelmed; regardless, I was still overwhelmed. However, being numb helped.

Now that I had completed the demolition of the majority of the house and conducted a fine-tooth inspection, I was beginning to get a better picture.

It was grim.

I clearly new that all the things I had hoped to do was merely a wild dream. I knew at best after making all of the "must-do" repairs and bringing everything up to code, that there would only be a limited number of things I could do to make the house more appealing.

I already had entered into a pre-sale intent to purchase agreement with a friend; a person with whom I had previously done business.

The goal at this time was just to make the house habitable and get all the repairs done to code so I could sell it. The guy interested in buying the house had indicated that he might be interested in selling the house in which he was living and moving into this one, renting out the basement for additional income. The house was zoned R-2 and could easily be converted into a duplex because of the separate basement entry. It was exactly for this reason that I had planned to replace all the plumbing, rough in a new bathroom and install an egress window.










I confess at this point that, for all I cared, he could have raised sheep in this house. All I wanted was to finish it and sell it. I was so ready to be rid of this headache I had purchased.










Considering all the work that needed to be done, the challenge was going to be to set a selling price that would be acceptable to the purchaser. To state the obvious, my budget was tight. Although I had calculated for some wages to be paid for my labor, there was a very distinct possibility that I would not receive any wages. I was prepared for this.

It is hard to get motivated about a difficult long hard project for which you receive no return or even wages. I felt that I was up against a wall. The worst part was, on this house, there was no alternative but to roll up my sleeves and take my lumps. I had to get on with it, because the sooner that I did, the sooner it would be completed and off my hands. I was well aware of the financial hemorrhaging that was occurring every minute that the house wasn't sold. This was not only discouraging but had the very real potential of financially devastating me and my business partner.

This could have been disastrous.

The bottom line was, I need to get busy and not become overwhelmed with the "what-ifs". This was easier said than done. Talk is cheap - building material is not.

I started immediately with a detailed list of the scope of work that needed to be done. I listed everything that had to be done to meet code, along with everything that needed to be done just to make the house saleable regardless whether it was covered by a code issue or not. Everything had to be on the table and very thorough. There was no place for denial, wishful thinking, personal choices or tastes. I had to be completely neutral in my assessment. I couldn't allow any emotional attachment or feelings cloud my judgment.

At this point I had no emotional attachment to the house at all. In fact, it had the beginning of, not only a bad taste, but a feeling of resentment towards it and the previous owners for not taking better care of the home. Of course, this was pointless; I had what I bought - junk.

No one was to blame for this mess, but me.

I just had to bite my lip and get the job done.

With so many things that I had found wrong with the house, my poor lip was already raw, black and blue from biting it.

The maximum amount of money I had available to me for remodeling was forty-grand. That sounds like a lot of money until you start construction or making repairs. It's amazing how quickly that amount is spent.

Even though doing my own labor gave me a considerable advantage and would stretch my budget it wasn't pleasant to think of the several months more work that lay ahead of me without getting paid.










In fact, to be honest, it was downright discouraging. But that was the situation. All the bitching, groaning and complaining in the world wasn't going to change it. I had to just get over it and get going.

In the back of my mind, the best I had could hope for was to spend no more than forty-grand, bringing my investment up to about one hundred and eighty thousand dollars without accounting for the carrying costs and some other miscellaneous costs. I had hoped that, when all was said and done, I could take out five grand for my labor. The good faith pre-sale purchase agreement would yield me $187,500. This left a $2500 cushion for unexpected cost overruns. This amounted to about 6 percent of the remodeling budget; at best, a very minimum amount.

That is a kind way of saying, "I'm so screwed if something goes wrong".

Not a fun position to find yourself in at the beginning of the largest remodeling project that I have ever undertaken.

The stakes were high.

One other potential hurdle with the pre-sell purchase agreement was that, at the end of the project, either party was free to amend or cancel the intent to sell or buy. For the most part, the agreement was done to secure the money to remodel the project.

When I thought about it, my headache returned; it was a good thing I was mostly numb, or perhaps, simply dumb. Regardless I had to move forward.










I returned to the basement because it was the most logical place to continue the remodeling. I had already replaced all the plumbing and significant portions of the concrete floor. All the previous walls and the temporary ceiling had been removed. Everything else had been stripped to the bare walls.










I replaced all the basement windows with glass block. This would allow in much needed light while securing the basement. Because, in all likelihood the next owner would want to have rental income, it had to have an egress window installed to conform to code. I felt this gave some much needed flexibility for future expansion. I needed to increase the value of the house. One of the few ways I could do this, without adding an addition to the house, was to utilize all the existing space in the wisest way possible. The basement exit, which was separate from the rest of the house, enabled an easy future conversion to a duplex if necessary. The immediate plan was to simply make this a "mother in law's apartment". Postponing the conversion to a full duplex saved a lot of work and a lot of money.

Money was tight and had to be well spent.

I was taking a large risk but felt I had no other choice.

Only time would tell.

For now, this was only one of many worries, and surprises yet to be uncovered.

Copyright… all rights reserved D.Jerzak 05/10/07


----------



## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Thanks for more of the story. I hope you got some good surprises and not just bad ones.

The house has a nice style can't wait to see what it looks like when you get ready to sell it.

Diane


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


I really like how we get to share the internal thought process, how you kept yourself moving forward rather than giving up at each step along the way.

Question: you say, "other than those things [uh huh.. few] the house seemed in good condition". Where did the positive perspective come from? 'Cause I'm not seeing anything that WASN"T on the list!!! Just in case I find myself intrigued by an old house it would be nice to know what to look for re:" good condition"


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Dusty, I would have run and been uncatchable after seeing all that you listed as needing repair, but after seeing the house after you fixed it up, it's amazing. Your story is like a lot of those on people on T.V. trying to flip a house for profit. The work is overwelming and there is always that fear or reality that one could possibly not make any money at all.

*Gooooooo, Dusty*! ;^)


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


MsdebbieP,

Certainly there is some sarcasm in that statement, however the irony is it also it the truth.

What I meant by that statement is even though all those things I listed and more were wrong, they could be repaired, fixed or replaced. The house was fundamentally sound. The foundation, major structural components were in good shape. It is those things that I look for before I purchase a house to rehab or remodel.

Any thing else can be fixed with enough time and money. The deciding factor on many projects between demo and rehab is simply the difference between the structure and foundation conditions and what needs to be or has to be replaced for habitability or code reasons.

In other words, if the basic foundation and structure is defective more than likely it will have to be demoed. This is the criteria that is used by city officials and code inspectors.

It then becomes a personal choice or decision if you will, absent a defective basic structure as to what or how much you choose to do make it habitable or restored to what ever level you choose.

In many projects like this one the cost out weights the ability to recover your investment.
It is not uncommon for a project to exceed its recoverable costs for years. This often in lay terms becomes what is known as " a labor of love".

Often in historical structures or neighbor hoods you see this happen. It is not uncommon for grants, special loans , tax credits, or other funds to be made available to the owner to restore the project. You see this most often when a house has been put on a preservation list or is listed on either a state or federal historical preservation designation or registry.

I am over simplifying this, it tends to be come very detailed and complicated. Very often very expensive.

I have gained a lot of experience in doing historical restoration because of my stain glass back ground and experience in rehabbing historical homes. Even after several projects I still remain overwhelmed and find my self when I am not totally lost constantly learning new things.

I will spare all all the boring details and perhaps some day if anyone is interested do some blogging about my experiences iwith these projects. One such project I have been involved in was a large historical church restoration that was just completed after years of work and millions of dollars in costs. Preparations were being made for the "grand re-opening celebration when a fire destroyed all the work just before the celebration day.

I hope this helped you with your question.

It's as clear as mud right?

If you still have questions feel free to ask me what ever your question is and I will try answer it the best I can.

I'm hesitant to say much more at this point simply because I am saving it for the "this old crack house" series. There is a lot more chapters to follow and I don't want to give away the twists and turns that are to come.

Just remember this is only phase one so far of "this old crack house".

The real changes come in "this old crack house the addition" part of the story. I am still a ways away from getting to this part of the story.

This is why if you recall I asked a while back if I should just jump to the end of the story.

I didn't want to bore every one with my long winded dribble and experiences so I offered that option.

The response I got was overwhelming in favor of telling the whole story.

I have been doing this, one chapter at a time.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


still in favour of one chapter at a time!!! 

and the "good foundation" is indeed clear as mud hahah no. I get it. The core structure looked good… Main framework, foundation.. everything else is "cosmetic" in a sense.

Thanks… I just knew that there was something there that was calling to you to save it.

Ok, I'm ready for the next chapter!


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Thanks for the installment, Dusty. I'm soaking up every experience as I may potentially look for a fixer-upper in the not to distant future.

What Church were you involved with regarding the restoration?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Caliper,

Your welcome.

It was St Marks Catholic Church…. 
*
Quote:*

*Of special note are the 13 main stained glass windows in the body of the church. These originally were made by Emperor Franz Joseph for a family chapel in Vienna, Austria which was never built because of World War I, so the windows were buried for safety and later bought and brought to St. Mark's by Rev. Matthias Savs. One of these windows was destroyed in the fire, but it has been completely restored by Gaytee Stained Glass of Minneapolis, who repaired and replaced all of the other damaged windows in the church to their original glory.

*
( more info here http://www.stmarkshakopee.parishesonline.com/scripts/HostedSites/Org.asp?ID=4013)

At the time I was an apprentice under a Master Stain Glass Restorer and Artisan who was house staff at Gaytee Stained Glass here In Minneapolis.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


I'm interested in the durability of different structures. Locally they are "having" to rebuild all the old brick schools build 50 to 70 years ago. Last weekend I worked on a 10 year old factory made house that was just falling apart. Two roofs in ten years and I helped put on the third. Half the windows and both exterior doors needed replaced. A ten year old house. Then I've been in places in Spain with building still standing and in use that where built before christ. I hope your house gets loved for another 100 years!


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Thanks, Dusty. I used to live in neighboring Savage. Next time I visit my old roommate, I'll have to make a special trip to St. Marks.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


I have to stop reading these before bedtime. I get all upset for Dusty and my blood pressure goes up and then I don't sleep for hours. I can't even imagine what your blood pressure must be like Dusty. Actually that brings up an interesting question for you. During this process did you not get much sleep because of nervousness or did you sleep like a baby because you were exhausted? I can only hope you got plenty of sleep but either way, bless you.


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## Jeffyjunkbox (Apr 30, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Your stories always make me feel great Dusty! Next to your trials and tribulations my ever constant home remoldeling projects are nothing! Thanks- Man you got heart-


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Chip,

*quote "During this process did you not get much sleep because of nervousness or did you sleep like a baby because you were exhausted? "*

I slept as sound as a rock. I was totally exhausted. I had to learn how to turn the "mental machine" off ( my pee size brain).

This took some doing.

One of ways I learned how to do this was not paying attention to all the "side walk superintendents" or do good neighbors who keep telling me I was "nuts" or that I couldn't do this project, or blah bah bah….

Like an annoying passenger on my bus, I learned long ago how to tune them out and keep driving . All the while I just smiling. I don't engage in conservation I just appear to be listening ,all the while making them think I cared about what it was they were saying.

Rude?

Yes!

I have just learned that I have to choose my battles wisely. I can't fight ever war.

At the end of the day I leave it all behind.

I rise the next day and guess what, its still there. I just treat it like a mean dog laying in the bush. I don't take it on.

He would win, and I would just end up with a nasty bite.

You might call it avoidance, I choose to call it learned wisdom.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


after my husband's death it didn't take me long to realize that I couldn't save someone who was suicidal (as I tried to help people online) but I could hold my hand out to support them. If they chose to accept my helping hand then I'd be there as they walked their path. But their path was their own to walk. Sure made it easier and healthier for me. Empathy and compassion does not mean letting something eat away at your own life.

The other thing that I have learned over the years is that angry people are wrestling their own demons and getting dragged into the drama isn't helpful to me nor to them. Again, being there to help them on their path is a lot different than getting tangled up in the emotions etc and enabling them to stay trapped in the current emotions. You walk your path and I'll walk mine. If you want my help I'm here for you.


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Very glad to hear you slept well Dusty… with all that you went through that is extremely important.

And Deb… couldn't agree more.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


at the start of our inspectors walk-though for our house purchase it was pretty grim… (I was hoping for things to turn around, or get so bad we could walk away from our offer) for better or worse, things turned around. We got a thumbs up for the structure, built in 1880, should give us another 100 years. Pretty much boiled down to new doors and windows, fixing the drainage around the foundation. everything else was cosemetic. Of course the roof is coming due for replacement, and the previous owners only rehabbed 1/2 of the front porch. I don't think the old floorboards will survive another winter 

Somedays I wish we bought a new house, (but looking at all the construction in recent decades, I'd either build my own (myself and with help I trusted) or buy something pre WW2, with good bones.

I'd have run from your house Dusty,... but with you fixing the one blemish on an otherwise good neighborhood,... its looking like a place worth staying in.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Scottb,

One of the pit falls of rehabbing old homes is often you don't know what you got or how bad something is until you get into it. Certainly you can do inspections and various other tests and checks to help you get a good accurate picture of what it is you are getting into.

However, that really only covers what it is you can see for the most part. Plus, there is what I call the domino effect. That is when you get start a repair on one thing it often leads to having to replace or repair something else because you have discovered it was defective or now the building code requires you to bring it up to date.

One other factor is funds often are limited so your options or choices are also limited.

After doing many many rehab projects I have gained significance experience but I still find my share of surprises and various things that cause huge cost overruns.

My personal opinion for what it is worth is remodeling not only takes some skill but isn't for 
everyone nor the faint of heart.

I come to understand only to well why the people who do this type of work charge what they do.

It is very labor intensive.


----------



## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Dusty, I've rennovated three houses and what I learned during the experience with the first two was, whatever you initially calculate the costs to be from what you can see, double it to cover what you can't see. Even with this equation I still came up a bit short on the third but only had first degree burns and not third degree burns if you get my drift. And none of these even came close to the experience you're going through. The "stretch" always turns into a labor of love. Looking forward to your next installment!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


Chip.

Been there done that. I have however noticed a relationship between cost over runs and how little you can afford them.

If you are on a really tight budget expect to go over an excessive amount.

It works the same way with time. The tighter the dead line the more likely you won't hit it and will run over, most likely some where in the double digits area.

I have learned, plan for the worse expect the least and prepare for everything to go wrong and then when it does you won't be surprised. You then can feel so smug because you predicted it and therefore you must be good, and know what you are doing.

Hey, it works for me.


----------



## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *This Old Crack House...The house had all the curb appeal of a tent city*
> 
> The curb appearance of the house was terrible.
> 
> ...


I hear ya Dusty. When rennovating, expect problems and you'll never feel let down. ;-)


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *

I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.










I had to find a way to incorporate a laundry room that would serve both floors in the event I, or the expected buyer, would be able to use without having to enter the private apartment. This could be accomplished by installing a separate door going into the upstairs kitchen and building a separate laundry room in the basement.

One major challenge would be to find space for a functional kitchen. I had roughed in a new ¾ bathroom and would need to design around this. I solved this by taking what was the old hallway and converting that space into a small but fully functional kitchen, using an partment-sized stove, refrigerator, and dishwasher. It amounts to a full kitchen but uses specially designed and smaller size appliances.



















The funny thing is they get the same price for these appliances as they do standard size.










Why wasn't I surprised?

For the first time since I started this project, I felt some relief and satisfaction in designing, building the kitchen, bath and what would amount to a full mother-in-law apartment. It was about time. I had previously been so discouraged and felt so overwhelmed by this project. I had wanted to quit and walk away so many times, but I had no choice; I had to finish the project. Designing and building the new kitchen gave me much needed mental relief. It was the break that I needed. I began to have some fun; it was a foreign feeling. Framing, insulating, and roughing in the electrical was a piece of cake because I had gutted everything to the bare block walls and was able to start over from scratch.



















Although it still took a fair share of time, I felt well within my comfort zone. I no longer felt helpless. It was a real boost to my mental wellbeing. I so needed this change after what seemed like endless problems and surprises. It is amazing what effect building something can have on you mentally.

I quickly roughed everything in and was ready for a rough in inspection. This inspection was a breeze. It passed and I was on to the next phase of the construction.



















Because the plan was to sell the house and there was absolutely no wiggle-room in my budget, I had limited choices in the construction of the kitchen. After careful consideration and planning, I decided I would just buy the basic box cabinets at a local big box lumber yard. I would then doctor them up with trim, hardware and other extra touches.

As much as it pained me to do this, it would solve the two problems that I faced; budget and time constraints.

The biggest consideration was my budget, or more appropriately, lack of any real budget. Not far behind this in importance was the reality of a ticking clock that reminded me of the accruing interest costs of this project. The cash was going only one way - out. I needed to finish this project as soon as possible and get the house sold and the mortgage paid off. I could see the vultures already gathering on the horizon.



















I decided to build the counter-top on site. I had planed to make the counter-top over-sized to serve as a table or serving area in the small quarters, which would become an apartment. 
There were several other challenges such as ceiling height, relocating the existing electrical, plumbing, and duct work. All of these were easily remedied with only a minimum amount of effort or creativity.

Finally, I felt like I was making some progress. I keep looking over my shoulder waiting for the other shoe to fall. Things seemed to be going too smoothly.

Oh how things can and did change quickly.





































My next task was the main floor kitchen. Besides having to replace all the electrical, plumbing, floor, and cabinets, it was necessary for me to remove two of the existing north kitchen windows. I had to frame up the old window opening and have the outside opening filled with stucco. The bad news was, this was going to cost almost a grand. I had not planed on this and to add fuel to the fire, the contractor was booked out for a month. This was one trade I couldn't do because because I lacked the experience and didn't have any of the tools to do the job.










So much for things going smoothly.

I could only do what I could do. Frame up everything and prepare the opening, so that when the contractor could come by and do the job, it was ready. This I did .




























I also decided that, as long as I had to hire a contractor to come in to apply stucco to the old window opening, it would be a good time to replace the oversize bathroom window. The window was literally three feet from the neighbor's front door allowing a full pictorial view of all that was going on in the bathroom if the shades weren't closed.

The majority of the cost for the contractor was the one time trip charge, set up charge, and minimum service call charge. The actual repair and additional material needed to complete the repairs was insignificant. However, it was the time to do this. I would just have to find some other area to cut in the already skinny budget. It seemed all of the decisions that I made involved cutting or giving something up. There weren't many options. I would have to cut something else out later. Although I knew something else would have to give, I was also well aware that several of these compromises might come home to haunt me at a later point.

I remember thinking how fun this would be when that day arrived. However, the only choice I had, was to make what I felt was the best expenditures of the limited funds I had and move on. I could not look back.

One of the coping mechanisms I had adopted was to make a deal with myself that, once I had made a decision, I would carry through with it and never look back. This worked for me; it was one of the few successes I had, so I stayed with that plan.

I removed the bathroom window and replaced it with a smaller, proper, bathroom window. After framing in the new twenty-four inch square slider, I found the sliding window was defective. If I didn't lock it in place it just fell out of the track. Not only was this annoying, it wouldn't pass code and I wouldn't accept anything less than the job done right and window properly installed. It didn't matter at this point that the window was defective and would delay the contractor, so I just moved on to the next project knowing full well that I would need to return to this problem and fix it.

I had been mulling over ways to make the existing kitchen functional. The limited space really hampered my options. In addition to being a very long and narrow room, the kitchen had two door openings which further limited my options and chewed up precious space. One absolute was to gain addition cupboard space and some counter top surface. The previous kitchen had only one six foot cupboard. There was a small table-nook, but for all practical purposes, this was almost worthless. It would barely seat two people, let alone provide table-space for dishes.



















I thought long and hard to come up with affordable solutions that would not only make this a functional room but add to the resale value of the house. I finally decided on a two part solution. I would take out the small built-in bench in the nook area and remove the double window that was centered on the table-bench. I would install a full view door leading out to a new deck that I would build. This would create natural light in a small kitchen that had the only windows removed to create more cupboard and counter top space. It also would allow additional dining area and another eating alternative, a very attractive amenity that would add to the overall appeal of the house without the cost that an addition would cost. In short, it was a poor man's addition that had appeal to a wide range of prospective purchasers.



















To do this project, the estimated cost for materials, including a new full-view door, steps, and deck footings was $3200.00. I felt that this was money well spent to gain a fourteen by sixteen foot deck with direct kitchen access.










There was only one problem, the building code was clear about minimum property line set-backs. The house had already encroached on the minimum. It also was clear about the requirements for attaching a deck to the house. In order to get around all of these requirements, I had to build two decks. The first was a landing that leads to a deck. I had to maintain the same height to eliminate any tripping hazards and to comply with the setback requirements, I had to offset the deck.










It seemed that here was always a new challenge, but I was up for them. I even began to enjoy the project. However, this would be short lived. I was not prepared for the next major setback that completely caught me off guard.

It would be a very personal and painful loss.

Copyright… all rights reserved D.Jerzak 05/01/07


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


What an Epic journey…it doesn't seem like 39 episodes. This is quite a journey.

BTW…don't forget to tell us what was wrong with the window. My wife thinks you put it in upside down : ) I told it wasn't possible.


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


This is getting very exciting now that the house is starting to look like a house again and beginning to look like it will be a comfy home. I can't wait for the rest of the story. This deck is beautiful.

Diane


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


Are we on the downhill slop with only a few uphill spots Dusty.

We've been crying for so long. It would be good to smile.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


And what about David? Does he come back into the story?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


Greg3G,










I confess to a very embarrassing mistake. You owe your very smart and alert wife an apology. Not only was it possible, I did install the window wrong side up. (see picture above of first installation)

Too add insult to injury I went back to where I bought it from (after removing it from the rough opening) and told them I had a defective window and asked if could they please replace it as soon as possible, because I had a stucco contractor coming by any day to finish the rough opening. The woman at the help desk said, " if you show me what is wrong with it I would be glad to replace it".

With a slight taint of exasperation in my voice, while reaching over to stand the window up I pointed out how the window fell out of the track all the while telling her and demonstrating how it was defective.

I finished my verbal demonstration and description of the defective window.

I awaited her response.

As she turned the window to the proper position she said, " perhaps sir you would like to take one of our home improvement beginner classes, I am sure you would find them very helpful. We offer several time choices and they are free of charge."

ZING.

I had it coming.

I have never forgot that lesson.

Please pass me a piece of humble crow pie.

Make that a double slice.

*(see below for proper installation)*


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


Karson,

Stay tuned! This story is a long ways from being done.

I will say that there is better days ahead.

And some tears yet.

In fact several .


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


Don,

David never did recover from his injurys he sustained from his work accident. He spent well over a year in recovery and never returned to work and was forced to retire.

He makes a return but in a different role.

Stay tuned.


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


Thanks for the installment Dusty. It's good to hear that you were getting some joy out of the project for a while however short-lived it may have been. That's too bad about David. Can't wait to hear about his return though.


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## PanamaJack (Mar 28, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


What a vast improvement already Dusty. Great story line to follow this epic journey. Fantastic work, please keep us all informed.

I worked in the lumber business for a long while. You are not the first to install something wrong. I had a customer who couldn't believe that his new and very expensive wood patio door was so hard to open. He could not understand why it leaked so when it rained. I got the local sales rep. to go with me to a job site ever thirty miles from my workplace only to tell the customer that the sill goes on the the bottom, next to the concrete! He was stepping up over 8 inches high to get into the house.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


...and this turns into a masterpiece!


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


nice to see things (at least some things) falling right into place.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


the light is shining…. phew. 
I'm afraid to hear about what the next "cloud" is that blocks the light 

I hope we don't have to wait toooooooo long !


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


OH DUSTY!...now we are both eating the same pie! We couldn't help but laugh, but my wife had her own zinger…."I told you so." followed shortly by "you should listen to me more." This is great….now she thinks she's the next JoJo (From Hometime fame) Want some catsup with your's, I prefer Frank's Hot Sauce. Thanks for the revelation, its been a tough week and its only Tuesday….cheered me up to no end.

BTW….have you decided on a publisher yet?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


Greg3g,

I saw that "I told you so coming" so being prepared I have been wearing head protection (aka hard hat) all week.

The hard hat could also be mistaken for a cone or dunce cap. They are very similar.

As far as deciding on a publisher… yea right… the only thing I could publish is "how not to do remodeling" and have a special chapter devoted to "how to install a window and when it doesn't fit rip it out and return it blame it on being defective"

I think I will call it "window installing for dummies - 101 ways to screw it up and blame some one else" or "glass side up for short"


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## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


Another 90 degree turn to this story.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Gentleman start your skill saws...Let the remodeling begin.... *
> 
> I went to work right away on the basement. The most logical place to start was the basement as I had already gutted it out replacing the plumbing and substantial sections of the cement floor. All the windows were replaced with glass block and I cut a hole in the wall and installed a outside egress window. This would make an allowance for a future legal bedroom and gave me the flexibility of either renting it out as a duplex or an apartment.
> 
> ...


Dusty - that is a brilliant idea! "How not to do remodeling" ... do-it-yourselfers (and their spouses) would pick this up for sure and what a surprise they'd get as they were drawn into the story PLUS they would get lots of tips re: renovating. Brilliant idea.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Sale or no Sale?*










I have always prided myself in doing a first class job regardless of who I was working for or what I was building. My personal motto has been to build the project like you were doing it for yourself.

Still, there comes a time, especially when the budget is tight, when you have to compromise on this work ethic. I am not saying that the quality of the work should change but rather you have to become more realistic with your time, money and efforts, so you don't bankrupt yourself during this process.

For those of us who are perfectionists, this is easier said than done.










This was a constant battle for me on this project. I had no intention, at this point, to live in this house. Nor could I afford to pay two mortgages; I had to sell the house and the sooner the better.

I had entered into an intent to sell agreement and had defined what would be done in the remodeling process so I wouldn't go over budget. This provided some control over the costs and scope of the project.










Never-the-less, at that point, I was feeling very frustrated. I had no intention or desire, for that matter, to live in this house. I was in over my head and the huge black hole of a money pit, the old crack house, had some real shortcomings.

I was already co-owner of the house across the street with my business partner and we had spent substantial money remodeling it to fit our needs and tastes. Even though our house had substantially increased in value and we had gained a lot of equity over the last five year, the Crack House had too many shortcomings to even consider moving into it. Amongst these was a very small cramped kitchen, no main floor bedrooms, only one bathroom on the main floor, no bathroom on the second floor and a garage that, neither my pickup or any full size car for that matter, wouldn't fit into.

The garage was also smaller than the one we had already and we had spent a lot of money on new lights, heating and insulation, to make it a functional shop. I considered this a major draw back.

In short we were happy with what we had and the primary reason for buying this house was to eliminate all the problems that were part of the previous owners. We wanted to have some say and control over who moved in.










One other consideration was the vacant lot that existed adjacent to the house. No final decision had been made about the fate of this lot. The intent to sell agreement into which I had entered, had only listed it as an option to purchase for $35,000 extra upon purchase of the existing house.

I had toyed with splitting the lot off and building a duplex or single family home and selling it for a nice profit, hopefully recovering some of the labor that I was sticking into this substantial remodeling project. My research and investigation with the city zoning department revealed a rather substantial process to split off the lot and prepare it for its own single family home or duplex. It would likely be would be rather lengthy and possibly expensive. At this point, this wasn't a very appealing prospect. I just wanted to complete this project and get out from under the two mortgages.

I proceeded with the original plan to complete the remodeling and sell the house. This seemed to be the most economical and practical way out of this mess I had gotten into. Besides my business partner had no interest in anything but a plan which involved selling the house.

It was pretty much a foregone conclusion that this would be the end result.

In fact the buyer had already placed his house on the market for sale.

Two years earlier I had substantially remodeled his house. It was in prime condition and was very saleable. The only question was how he would price it. He liked to make a lot of money on things he owned and often I felt got a bit greedy with his properties. This, however, was his choice and decision to make, not mine.










He did exactly what I thought, priced it outrageously high. He priced it so he would clear over 120 thousand dollars in less than 18 months. Not that there is anything wrong with making money I just felt he priced himself out of a market for his house, but this was his choice and none of my business.

I did know that in order for him to buy my house, he would have to sell his. I keep close tabs on him qualifying for another mortgage with his mortgage broker. They made it clear to me that he would be required to sell his existing property in order to qualify for another mortgage.

He traveled a lot for his job and would be on the road all over the United States at least 3 weeks a month. He clearly didn't need the space or the expense of keeping the house up he currently live in. In fact, this house had become a burden, not only in terms of expense but due to the amount of work and maintenance just the yard upkeep alone required.

His idea was to rent out the basement of this house that I was working on and to live upstairs. He wanted to rent the basement mother- in-law apartment out to a friend who would in exchange of a reduced rent take care of all the mowing and shoveling and other yard tasks that had to be done.

The small kitchen and no bathroom on the second floor where the bedrooms were located didn't matter one bit to him. The fact was, he wasn't much of a cook and because he lived on the road, and was single with no plans to change his status, these shortcomings simply didn't matter to him.

Everything seemed to be in place and this plan for both of us seemed to be the logical thing to do. It just made a lot of sense to follow through with as intended. It appeared to be a good deal for everyone involved.

However, even the best laid plans have away of going awry. One lesson that I learned doing this project was, you can plan plans, but not outcomes. Remain focused and committed, but flexible and open minded.

A good example of what I am talking about is the position in which I found myself with this house.

I had entered into an intent to buy agreement with a friend whom I had done business with in the past. We had done a few real-estate deals and they worked out for both of us.

His house had been on the market for a little over 45 days without even so much as a second showing. In fact, first showings had been limited only to six prospects in forty five days. I keep close tabs on the status of the sale of his house. I had a lot riding on him selling it and being able to buy mine. He already had gone through the underwriting process and they approved him based on the sale of his existing home and using some of the expected proceeds from the sale as a down payment to buy my house that I was remodeling.

Although how he priced his house was his business, I was concerned about my financial situation and the potential impact his situation, and his house not selling, might have on mine. I had spoken to him on a regular basis about the status of his house and his intentions.

Two things had changed since I first entered into the agreement with him. He had a promotion at work and his new job required intensive travel beyond what had been expected of him in his previous job. Hence, he was home less and had less time because of the training and demands his new job required. One other change that was occurring even, if it wasn't as big an influence, was that he had begun dating one person on a much more serious basis than he ever had in the past.










Reading between the lines and looking out for myself, the outlook of him purchasing this house wasn't looking very promising.

When I factored in the lack of any activity on his existing home, I didn't need anymore signs. In case it became necessary, I needed to have contingency plans ready to put into action .

I began to openly discuss this with my business partner. He always wanted to be keep in the loop, regardless whether the news was good or not. He was an accountant and understood black and white.

He hated surprises and so did I.

We quickly determined that, even if we could make all the payments for both homes, it would be very tight and uncomfortable until we sold the house. We began to develop a contingency plan.

We addressed this plan on several fronts.

We decided to take on some side projects that would be smaller in nature and manageable. We would utilize Sid who, after nine years, had been laid off as a teacher. He had been helping me with the remodeling of the house. He had been a great helper and an asset to me, but I was getting to the point where I would no longer need him on the project as much as I did previously. I also didn't want to just cut him loose. I felt a moral obligation to keep him busy as long as I was able. He had been with me a long time and I just couldn't let him down during his time of need.

We also agreed that we could and would take on some of those requested commissions and projects we had turned down in the past.

With the renovations on the house soon winding down, we would have more time. It was agreed I would manage the projects. I would contact the people, design the project, sell the job, and help Sid with the layout and rough cut or any other part with which he needed help. He then could do alone what work he was able to, thus giving us some additional income to not only support what I had been paying him but also to provide us some additional income to pay expenses.

This would take a lot of coordination between the house work and these new projects. The good news was that the shop was just across the street from the house we were working on, so it made it easy to allocate our labor resources as needed.

The bad news was I had to work seven days a week to keep it all straight and functioning.

I did this.

When I look back, how I did it I will never know . I guess you have to do what you have to do, and just don't question it. I had no choice and had a lot riding on this working.

Failure wasn't an option.

Part of the new plan was that I began to actively seek interested potential buyers who had previously expressed interest in the remodeled house project.

One problem with this, other than the distraction of having to stop and show the house, was that the house wasn't complete and I found that people had a hard time visualizing what the finished project would look like.

It seemed all they could do was see the immediate mess of the construction that surrounded them.










This was a very eye-opening lesson for me.

I quickly stopped doing showings, realizing that I was causing more harm and discouraging the buyers from buying because the project wasn't completed. I had taken for granted that others could see my end-result vision for the project.

I was terribly mistaken about this.

I'm glad I saw this early and stopped showing the house so I didn't prematurely cause a lost sale.

The learning never stops. Worse yet, the lessons are different for every project.

Two weeks into our newly implemented contingency plan my buddy flew home for a rare weekend and stopped by to see me and the progress we had made on the house.

It was at this time that he indicated he thought it would be unlikely that he would be able to complete the purchase of this house.

Based on his house not selling and his recent job demands, he felt he had better tell me now before time ran out. Even though I had expected as much it still took some wind out of my sail.

Somehow, hearing it from him brought it home and now it was real.

I was grateful that he told me as when he did so I could move forward with whatever other plans I needed to implement. He also wanted to remain in the loop so that if his house sold and some other things changed, he would still have an option to purchase the house. I agreed to this and amended the intent to purchase the house to reflect this.










The pressure was on now more than ever. Not that pressure hadn't been present previously, it just had been shifted to the front burner.

I had already been working seven days a week in addition to my part-time job as a bus driver. The bus driving job required me to get up at 4:00 am and work split shifts that had a twelve hour spread. I was spending every moment either in the shop or the house.










This house project was no longer fun.

It had become work.

I had to fight off all the doubts, what ifs, naysayer's, and personal demons that seemed to haunt me. These included the self-talk that, "You got yourself into this and you are in over your head, but just won't admit it". In reality I could admit this.

I just wasn't sure what the outcome would be.

I had a plan and was working the plan. What else could I do?

I wasn't sure but one thing I knew was that, if I offered fate my resignation, it would accept.

What would I do?

I really wasn't sure at this point.

Copyright… all rights reserved D.Jerzak 05/05/07


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Great trail of your thinking and planning, I'm with you on trying to show a house that is not in an almost live-in state. many people can't see your vision.

They want a "I see it now" view.

Keep it coming.


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## WayneC (Mar 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Your vision is a rare gift.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Karson,

You certainly sound like you have had experience in this happening also.

When ever I have designed or built any project I always envision the end restult first. I then work back wards from there to complete the project.

For me it came easy. I always figured that if I didnt know what I wanted or what something would look like when I completed it would be very hard to to achieve what It was I wanted.

In other words, if you don't know where you are going its is going to be hard to get there.

I however find ,that for most people ,this is a difficult thing to do. It seems hard for them to see the end product. They seem like they are so focused in the present and the surroundings that they can't make that leap.

I certainly was a huge discovery for me.

I also noticed that even if they ( the client) didn't understand something they often pretended they did. I think a lot of that came from they didn't want to appear like they didn't know what they were doing.

After all no one likes to look silly or appear dumb. However, its hard for some one to trust that the person won't take advantage of them.

That is also understandable.

I have no problem asking for help of clarification now, because I have made to many mistakes. Many of these were very costly.

I let my pride get in the way and never asked for help or clarification on something I was confused about or never understood.

My teachers used to say "the only dumb question is no question".

That is still relevant today for me.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, once when my Irish Grandfather was asked for driving directions, I thought his answer was a classic. "Well", he said, if I wanted to get there, I wouldn't start from here." LOL


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


As of this date is the actual story with the house completed or are you still looking for a buyer?

Diane


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


i'm feeling stressed once again… last chapter, I could see the light and now.. dark cloud again.. sigh


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty:

When I go to look at a house. I like to look at ones that are empty. No furniture. Other people was it all decorated up so they can see what it looks like with furniture.

I went through one house that was full of Antiques and they even had price tags on them.
The house was overflow from their store. We left and we asked ourselves. "What did the house look like?"


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Diane,

I am not sure how I can answer that question with out giving away the "rest of the story".

There is several chapters, twists, turns, heartbreaks,tests and….....

Stay tuned.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


karson,

I understand.

One of the basic truths of real estate 101 that I learned early one the hard way was the more cluttered the house the more you would remember the clutter and not the house.

I also learned there is no accounting for taste. We all have our tastes, and what we find tasteful some one else could find distasteful.

I found the more I keep things simple and natural, even that dreadful word neutral. However I had to remember I wasn't selling my tastes I was selling the house.

Chalk up another lesson learned.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Don,

Classic, you have to love a person with a quick sense of humor.

I can't count the number of times I have felt up against the wall, defeated and convinced this was the end of the line, only to find a good hardy laugh put every thing back in perspective again.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Our house was sparsely furnished for the walk through, set up nicely for an ideal showing. Made the rooms loook nice and large. Despite several rocking chairs around the fireplace, throw rugs under tables and couches. They must have been living out of a rental storage unit, or they really didn't have much in the way of books, clothes and what-not.

Wasn't until we signed that we could see how terrible the floors and windows were. Furniture hiding some, but not all of the worst sins. Who'd move a couch to see how the room looks there?

The irony is now, with all my repairs in various stages of completion, the house was closer to open house ready then, than it is now even with many of those old issues fixed


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Scottb,

Been there did that.

One of the many truths I have discovered about rehabbing a old home is the work is NEVER done. There is always something that needs fixing, replacing, or updating.

Of course there is the domino effect. The minute u start a project and get into it the good oh "well while we are doing this" or "we might as well as long as we have the mess and are on the middle of".... you can add your own.

Never ending black hole that sucks money and time.

The funny thing is those of us who have been involved with any major rehab effort keep feeding this hole.

I will never understand what that is all about.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Yep, so many projects grow in size or scope. I never bothered reinstalling the kitchen/DR baseboard as I'll (eventually) be removing/restoring the floor. 5 years later, and I'm still gonna.

I read in This Old House the most expensive words in renovation are "while we're at it". I understand this… but I also don't. I mean isnt' it cheaper to fix stuff while the walls are open, rather than demo and re-drywall/paint again later. It should be. Yes you're going to blow the original budget, but come in under the cost of two seperate jobs.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


one of my old co-workers decided to pave their driveway. 
They had to dig up a section of the driveway. 
He saw a crack in their foundation
To fix the foundation they had to renovate their basement
In renovating their basement they found that the water pipes were about to blow.
To fix the water pipes they had to tear out part of their kitchen area.
"While they were fixing the sink area" they decided to make the changes to the kitchen that they had planned to do in the near future.
To renovate the kitchen they had to change their living room area.

Their paved driveway became an expensive decision.


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Sale or no Sale?*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


E'gads!!! KT and I are about to embark on buying a new home and this is very disheartening (yet informative at the same time)... I am of the mind that sweat equity is not a bad thing but your journeys really give me pause Dusty. It is a VERY odd dichotomy for me. I mean I can't stand the thought of living in a home (unless I built it) that is less than 50 yrs old. Yet, the impending dangers are numerous if one goes with an older home. Believe me, the assessments for this 1892 condo we are in now are proof positive of that (tuckpointing, boiler work, new windows). The cumulative loss that will be realized in the sale is daunting enough… Thanks for you candor and detailed account.

Scott and Debbie, thanks for your stories as well.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*










As my friend, with whom I had entered the intent to purchase agreement, had indicated his unlikelihood to complete, I had no choice but to finish the remodeling and sell the house. I had already begun putting the word out with close friends and business associates that the house would more than likely be coming up for sale in early October.

Although progress had been made on several fronts of the remodeling project, there still was considerable work to be done. One major such project was the replacement and restoration of all the woodwork in the existing first floor level. The previous owners had taken most of the woodwork down and attempted to sand and begin a refinishing process.










They failed miserably.

Obviously the job turned out to be much more difficult and bigger than they imagined. They seemed to just lose interest and give up. They stored all the woodwork in the garage exposing it to the elements. They also had broken several of the trim boards when they attempted to remove them from the walls. Nails still protruded from the trim boards.










In short, I had a mess on my hands.










Most of the old trim wasn't salvageable. The effort required to refurbish and save what trim wasn't already ruined, was not cost effective. Efforts to match and purchase new trim failed. I was unable to match the profile . The stain color of the existing trim was a custom color and would be unlikely to match any found at salvage yards.










The original formal living-room and dining-room had been built by an owner/carpenter who used a custom bit to make the cove molding and other profiles. There was only one choice for me if I wanted to restore these rooms to as close to original as I could. I had to buy several hundred board feet of oak, and have the profiles for the trim, molding, and baseboard custom made to be used in my shaper and routers.










I wanted to restore the formal living and dining room. The balance of the rooms would be limited to replacing with less decorative woodwork. I was able to salvage a lot of the wider woodwork from the living room to be cut down and reuse in various parts of the house .

Overall, the woodwork turned out to not only balance well, it seemed to complement the other parts of the remodeling, such as the refinished of the hardwood floors. It didn't take me long to come to the conclusion that it wasn't remotely possible to afford to restore this house to its original condition. I had to accept this early on and do my best to make everything blend as best as I was able, with the original. This was a constant challenge. I was very careful that something didn't look out of place, or obvious that it had been replaced in such a way that caused it to stand out to even the untrained eye.










The front porch needed a lot of work. The windows had been broken out and the rain had damaged the hard wood floor. The door was in terrible shape and wasn't functioning. The ceiling had sheet rock that was only tacked up and never had been finished. It also had yellowed and showed all the damage from a previous roof leak. The plaster ceiling and walls had several cracks throughout, some the full length of the wall.



















After repairing a number of the cracks, I certainly gained a lot of appreciation for the dieing trade of plasters. I gained an understand about just how hard doing the work of the plaster trade was. Besides repairing all the cracks and loose pieces of plaster, I had to paint and re-texture all the ceilings. This work was hard, tedious and time consuming. Because all the woodwork had been replaced, extra care had to be taken so it was protected. This meant a lot of extra time went into prep-work such as taping off the woodwork .










The front rooms that was going to be converted to a library had 7 layers of wall paper on the wall. This all had to be removed by hand before I could paint the walls.
That turned out to be a very unpleasant, time consuming job.



















To this day I really don't care for wall paper.

All the fixtures and most of the wiring had to be replaced. That meant opening up a number of walls and fishing the wire up from the basement through the stud walls and into the existing walls using remodel boxes. Again this turned into a major task. Regardless, it all had to be done to meet the current code bringing the house up to acceptable standards.

This not only was costly it was labor intensive.










The room that I planed to convert to a library or sitting parlor had a small closet that served as an access point to the plumbing for the adjoining bathroom. This was poorly utilized space and the door was missing from the closet. The decision to make this into a bookcase was easy. The only challenge was to build the bookcase so that it could be slid in and out in the event I had to gain access to the plumbing. I was able to accomplish this after building the bookcase in two sections and tweaking it to fit, as I slid it into the opening.










Refinishing the hardwood floors took time and a lot of extra effort because they had been neglected and water damaged. The expense wasn't the culprit it was the labor intensity of the project. Time was money and the interest clock was running on the mortgage and I really didn't have a buyer locked in at this point. Besides, all the hard work and daily mental pressures just added to the overall tension of the project.

I had all I could do to stay focused and on track. This was not a sprint I had to keep telling myself everyday it was a marathon.

Knowing this didn't make it easier to do the work, it just helped me stay focused and better able to pace myself for the long haul.

It still was a grueling journey.

I was really tired and wore down.

Exhausted.

It was a constant battle no to give up.

That wasn't an option, and I knew it. There was no relief in sight but I knew if I didn't keep working the end wouldn't be any closer.

I had to play various mental games with my self to stay on track.

Thank god no psychologist was around during this time to hear me talking to myself or my two hounds who spent every minute with me during this remodeling project. I am sure the psychologist would have had two men in white coats and nets take me for a ride to a nice brick building that had padded walls.

At the end of the day I would stop working on the project, gather up my two basset hounds who had been my constant companions on this project, along with my business partner and go for a long walk around the neighborhood.

This not only helped to wind down from the pressures of the day it gave me a change to help get focused and bring my business partner up to date as to the progress that was being made.

The basset hounds are great ambassadors and really help break down barriers. People are drawn to them, they always look so sad and gentle.

I'm sure the sight of me pulling a red wagon with a big male basset hound nestled in the middle of a over sized comforter going by your front yard would cause you to take a second look.

He had arthritis and a bad hip, but insisted that he went on the daily walks. If I left him at home he would howl and cry like baby. I solved this problem with the little red wagon.

He rode in the red wagon like a king, thinking he was royalty and was in charge.

I let him think he was.

He knew he was regardless of what I thought.

It was surprising how many times that the various neighbors, some who lived several blocks from the house would make comments or ask questions about how the house was coming along.

Many of these same neighbors had been the ones who earlier made comments about how the house should have been tore down and how I wouldn't ever be able to make anything out of the house. They were the same ones who had all the advise to dispense and could spend my money freely from the street.

All this time thinking they were not only dispensing invaluable advise but also being very help and contributing to the progress of the project. I just let them think what ever they wanted.

I just thought to my self, what was the harm.

I did notice that not a one of them offered to help but they all sure could tell me what to and how to do the project.

I just figured they all had bad backs and that was the reason they never got involved in the actual work.

I always thought it would have been interesting had I invited those who dispensed their advice freely and frequently what kind of aliments or excuses they would of come up with to get out of the dirty work.

I had to at times just smile and biting my tongue which was already black and blue.

Now that visible progress could be seen suddenly they all were interested in a house tour.

I simply told them when the project is done for those interested I would host a BBQ and left it at that.

I down played the whole remodel process thanked them for there advise and left it at that.

After all the walk was to unwind, and that is exactly what it did for me.

Pure entertainment.



















The house exterior stucco had to be repaired and power washed before I could be repainted. I had been told that you couldn't paint stucco by a number of different people but I never understood why you couldn't if you did the proper prep and used a good latex paint. I researched this a lot and found no real reason other than the stucco trades wanted to preserve their business. I simply couldn't afford to have the house redone by them. I was very pleased with the outcome of the paint job. I'm sure it will only last five to ten years, a fraction of the time had I had it tuck pointed and blended. However, my plan was to sell the house anyway.



















The yard was in terrible shape. Besides being almost all weeds it need several loads of black dirt and grass seed. This would only be a start. I had a very limited budget to bye shrubs and trees. I had to do the best I could with what little I had.

By far, one of the most challenging tasks I encountered with this project was redoing the old kitchen. It wasn't because the kitchen was complicated or large, it was trying to utilize the space to accommodate the adjoining deck. Also, being an old house, there also was a significant drop in the floor to the wall making it very difficult to level and square the kitchen cabinets. In an eight foot section the floor dropped almost an inch and one half. Not only did this take extra time, but it took some creative trim building and installing.




























The space was limited, because the kitchen was long an narrow and there were doors on both ends; one that lead out to the deck and the other to a hallway . I knew the kitchen size was a potential downfall of this old house. Most people want a much larger kitchen. I had hoped to overcome some of this with the addition of the deck. The full view door that was installed to gain access to this area not only provided a practical way to add to the limited kitchen size, but it also helped bring in light. In turn, this gave the kitchen a much need lift and made it appear larger than it was.

The mother-in-law kitchen was a lot easier to build and install because I had framed up all new walls. This made all the difference in the world. I built both the counter-tops on site which gave me a considerable advantage because I could take into account the crooked walls and floors. Never-the-less, both jobs turned out to be very challenging.




























Because I had a very tight budget I bought simple box cabinets, installed them, then considerably dressed them up. This was the only way I could fit the expense of two kitchens into my budget. When they were completed the kitchens seemed function they were designed. They looked good at a fraction of the price of custom-built cabinets. One other major factor was the time required to build my own cabinets. I simply didn't have the time or space to do this.

Over all, progress was being made on all the various projects and components of the remodeling process. I was glad to be turning the corner and heading down the home stretch. I was not only tired and burned out, but I needed as much time as possible to show the house before the winter months. I knew selling the house would take time. Every month it sat was one more month of double mortgage payments. This couldn't continue for very long, without causing a major hardship.

I also had some good news; bad news. I had sold several commissions of various pieces of furniture I had designed that both Sid and I were building. The good news was it keep Sid busy while he tried to find full time employment after being laid off. The bad news was I was still very busy with the final touches on the house remodeling project. I would help Sid with the layout design and rough cutting and anything else he need help with. This made for many fifteen to sixteen hour days for me.



















To say the least, I was exhausted , but grateful for the extra money that it brought in.

I realized how hard it would be to make a living just building custom furniture. I also knew if I did that it would be more like a job or work for me and I was afraid I would lose my passion for woodworking.

The experience of building furniture on the side for over a year pretty much convinced me that I wouldn't pursue that avenue for several reasons.

I learned a lot, needless to say, but I paid a high price for that knowledge, not only emotionally but it took a physical toll on me as well.

My hand never really recovered from all the additional work and stress that I demanded of it. My pain at times was unbearable. The hand was diminished in what little function I had to start with.

In short I had paid a very high price.

This soon would come back to haunt me, along with a very sad and untimely death.

Copyright… all rights reserved D.Jerzak 05/10/07


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, I relate to your comments about turning an enjoyable hobby into a business. I came to the same conclusion as you.

Besides, who am I kidding, my skills aren't at the level anyone would want to pay real money for what I make.

Enjoying the story, quite a saga.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


another tough ending to a chapter 

Lots of production in this, though.. and that's a good thing! 
The house is looking beautiful already (lol well, I know it wasn't "already" and that there sure was a lot of hard work in getting this far).

Well done, Dusty. Well done


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


That is a lot of work for one fellow…and a couple of hounds. I can just see the old guy being pulled in his royal carriage.
Keep em coming!


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## johnt (May 9, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, what a story. Something I learned a long time ago was that when I turned a hobby into a form of income, it very quickly became no fun - no hobby. In both instances I was never able to totally revisit my hobby and the fun it gave me. All the best, johnt


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Sure am enjoying the read especially about the dog in the wagon.

Diane


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Don, @ Johnt,

I want to acknowledge and would love to comment more about turning a hobby into a business, however that is a big part of the yet to be told story of this "this old crack house, the addition".

I think you will find it amusing and I'm sure we share many of the same experiences.

Stay tuned if you will, I'm sure we can share some laughs and perhaps few lessons learned.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Diane,

The funny thing about my basset hound ( spike lee) the king of of bull basset hounds, if you were to see him on his thrown ( the wagon) you would start laughing, but agree he belongs there.

To this day I'm not sure if he just coned me into being his personal chaffer or his arthritis was really that bad that he needed to be pulled in the wagon.

I tend to think it's a little of both.

Oh well, I've been conned before and certainly it won't be my last time.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Diane,

The funny thing about my basset hound ( spike lee) the king of of bull basset hounds, if you were to see him on his thrown ( the wagon) you would start laughing, but agree he belongs there.

To this day I'm not sure if he just coned me into being his personal chaffer or his arthritis was really that bad that he needed to be pulled in the wagon.

I tend to think it's a little of both.

Oh well, I've been conned before and certainly it won't be my last time.


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Lol. I was thinking I wonder what he is thinking while he is being pulled in that wagon. He probably just says what a nice owner he has to be so kind if dogs think that way. Either that or he just doesn't think about it much and just enjoys the ride in the wagon. I do feel animals are a lot smarter than some people probably think. I never owned a dog and I feel I probably missed a lot not having one.

Diane


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


You didn't need a psychologist, if you *weren't* talking to youself, then I'd be worried!

1 1/2 inch out of level in the kitchen… if only the end of my livingroom was merely that much out of level. The bedrooms above it is off 3/4" over the width of the bed - which makes for real easy shimming!


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Stair way to heaven...Day by Day...One step at a time...some times one foreward and two back*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Great story Dusty, Thanks for your sharing and bringing us along for the ride also.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The end was near...not just for the project*










As each day went by, it became absolutely obvious to me that the chap to whom I had hoped to sell the house was not going to fulfill the intent-to-purchase agreement. I had already begun preparing for this eventuality. All I needed to do was to move forward with my plan.










He referred a potential tenet to rent the mother-in-law apartment in the basement. I certainly could have used the rent to help offset the mortgage payment. However, I had to be careful that I didn't get someone locked into a lease in case I sold the house to buyers that didn't want that particular tenet. It could potentially thwart a sale.










I felt caught between a rock and a hard place. I really didn't want anyone living in the house with a long term lease. My primary goal was to sell the house. That's what I was trying to keep in focus.

Imperceptibly at first, at some unrecognized time during the extensive and difficult process of refurbishing the old crack house, I had started to slowly warm towards the old house. I was completely unaware of this change in my feelings, and at first I would have denied them.










Although the house had presented me with many problems and much anxiety, at the same time it had slowly found a place into my heart. I liken it to a new puppy that has chewed your best shoes, had a accident on your oriental rug and barked at all the wrong times while keeping you up at night. You still love it. In fact, it seems the more problems it gives you, the more determined you become, and in the process, it works its way into your affection.

My business partner had made it crystal clear that he had no interest in moving into this house. We had no buyer for our current home. We had spent substantial money remodeling it and a lot of time and effort bringing the workshop up to working standards. We would not have done so had it been our intention to sell it.

However, I could tell that he had begun to take a liking to the house also. He had been actively involved in helping rehab the house from the beginning. His primary skill-set was on the business side, but he frequently pitched in as a helper. He was a big help with painting and staining. His patience with these trades was not only a god-send, but an absolute necessity due to the shear amount of work that had to be done.










Every single room in the house had to be repainted. Hundreds of feet of trim, coving, baseboard, and woodwork also had to be stained. The fact that he was able to do all of this freed me up to do the designing, building and installation of all the woodwork.










Sid my other helper was busy in the shop with various commissions that I had sold in order to help finance the remodeling project and keep him busy while he found a job.
I would help him get the project to a point that he could handle it himself and take it to near completion. Then my business partner would do the final sanding and staining.










I had to learn how to delegate, and loosen the reins to allow both of them to come into their own developing their own skills and talents. I have to admit that it was very difficult to let go, let them struggle, make their mistakes, and learn from them. My role was simply to guide, correct and move on. I had no alternative because it was simply impossible for me to do all the work alone. Never-the-less, I had to be sure the final project was going to meet the standards I set and our clients expected.

Although this presented many challenges, it was very rewarding to pass on my self-taught skills and crafts to them.

To this day, I feel one of the greatest rewards and pleasures I gained from all this, was to pass these skills and talents onto both Sid and my business Partner, TJ. They truly came into there own and rose to the challenge. In some ways, they not only equaled but surpassed me, because they had the opportunity to specialize in specific areas of woodworking. I know no greater reward or honor than to be able to teach someone something and have them excel at the task. I feel very strongly that if we don't share our craft and talents with others, we will not be challenged ourselves and our trades will wither and die.

No one would ever take the time to show me how to do woodworking and I vowed while struggling and teaching myself that if I ever had the chance I would freely and without hesitation teach what I had learned. To this day I teach beginning woodworking for free. I only charge those who have experience. To me, the most rewarding is teaching the beginning woodworkers. I find no better way to improve my woodworking skills than to teach someone else.

With the tight timetable, I simply couldn't have done this project alone. I had to have helpers, and the best way to make a helper into a craftsman is to teach them the craft.

The house was coming closer to being done.

I could finally see the end.










I was exhausted, out of money and was ready to move onto the next phase which would be selling the house. Although I really had started to like the house, I knew that I had to sell it because of the financial reality and lack of any other viable alternative.

As I neared completion and began working on punch list items I began to reflect on the journey thus far. While in the thick of the battle I had no time to reflect on the journey, but now that the end of the project was soon upon me, I could look back and enjoy it. I realized how I had been so focused on the end result and daily challenges that I had missed most of the trip that got me to this point.

When I reached this point of completion of the project, for some reason I expected that I would feel complete joy and a sense of accomplishment. While I certainly felt some relief from the pressure to complete the project, I wasn't feeling what I had expected.



















In hind sight I wish I had enjoyed the journey to the end a lot more. The end of the project was merely a destination and I realized I failed to take in and enjoy the journey along the way more. I could only reflect back on the project. I was keenly aware how much I really missed because I was so focused on the end result.

In short, the completion of the project was an uneventful letdown.



















What a valuable lesson I had learned.

The reality was that it was too late now; I couldn't return to the beginning. I only had my memories. Fortunately, I also had several hundred pictures and a video to which I could refer.

I vowed to someday write about the experience in detail.

One of my constant companions on this project was my big male Basset Hound, Spike Lee and his litter mate sister Sammy. Each and every day they were on the job with me. They had their own beds that I made them and shared with me the mess day in and day out. For the most part, they got in the way. They liked to drag pieces of wood and my tools all over the job, inevitably finding all the wet paint with their long floppy ears.










Many days they were the only relief I had from all the headaches and pressures I had been feeling while doing the project. They seemed to know when to come around and make me smile and when to stay their distance.

During the last week of the project, it was very hard for Spike Lee, my male Basset to make the trip over to the house. I had to put him in his wagon and take him over to the job. Most days he never left the wagon sleeping in it all day. He was old, and I knew this was not a good sign. I had taken him to the vet and all they could say is enjoy him as much as you can because they felt he didn't have much time left.

This was very painful for me to think about.

I tried not to.

I was finishing the last thing on the house before it was completely done and ready to be put on the market. That morning I tried to get the Basset Hounds up and ready to come over to the house with me.

Spike Lee would come. He just slowly waked to a saw dust pile I had and lay down.

Sammy went with him.

I finished the project that morning and decided to take Spike Lee to the vet.

I picked him up and carried him to my car wrapped in a blanket and took him to the vet.










He never came home with me.

A big part of me was left there on the floor as I held him as he took his last breaths.

I sat there with him, tears rolling down my cheeks for over a hour, alone with just him.

Reflecting.










Somehow, he held on until the project was completed.

I had lost my best bud.

The completion of the house project somehow seemed so unimportant; but unforgettable.

For now.

Little did I know what was ahead.

Copyright… all rights reserved D.Jerzak 05/10/07


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## mot (May 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Another great read. What a journey!


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


oh Dusty 
my heart is aching and my eyes are blurred with tears.


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Debbie, me too. I had come to love the dogs.

Diane


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


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## jockmike2 (Oct 10, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I know how attached you can become to a dog. jockmike


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


...Poor Spike Lee…


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty, We feel for your grief. and celebrate in your successes.

Love you brother. Karson


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


There is no greater company in a shop than a dog. I am truely sorry for your loss. I hope in time you find another "shop dog" who can fill the paw prints of Spike. He sounded like a great dog.


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## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The end was near...not just for the project*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


"If they don't have dogs in Heaven, I want to go where they go."

Forgot who said it first.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Restless and unsettled....*



















The house was finished and rented out, although I still remained unsettled about the whole deal, even though the immediate pressure was off.

I had grown to like the house and I was very comfortable with the tenets. However, I was still unsettled. I am unsure exactly why I felt this way. As I reflect on it, I guess it was that I had poured my heart, soul and a lot of money into a project that I was no longer a part of.










I really hadn't let go of the house when it was rented out. I suppose a lot of that was also due to the fact that both tenets were there on a short-term rental.

When all was said and done, the final budget numbers showed that we had stayed within our original budget. We had to change some priorities and shuffle around a number of planed upgrades in order to cover the unforeseen costs of various aspects of the project like the plumbing. This alone represents over five thousand dollars of unplanned expenditure.



















The rent covered the mortgage payments but there was no wiggle room for anything else.

TJ, my business partner, along with Sid and I continued to work on various commissions we had sold.




























The financial hemorrhaging had stopped due to the rental income, which bought me some time. However, I began to ponder the 'what ifs' and to entertain some new options.

One immediate idea that came to me was to use the first and second floor for a fine furniture showroom. The tenant was a friend of ours and had rented the house on a short term basis while waiting to close on a new town house. He had agreed to the possibility of me storing furniture in the house, as he only used an upstairs bedroom and the downstairs bathroom and kitchen.

He had placed his furniture in storage, when he sold his condominium, and brought only a few items to the house. He was rarely at the house other than to sleep and had very basic living needs and limited furniture. Knowing that he would be moving in less than five months, he had placed most of his furniture in storage.

I had envisioned using the newly remodeled house to showcase the various pieces of furniture that I had designed and was in the process of building. I pictured each room set up as close to real life as possible with corresponding pieces of handmade furniture.










I was very interested in designing and building variations of Mission, and Arts and Crafts pieces I had come across and admired. Most of the classic pieces with which I was familiar were either too time consuming, not economically feasible to build, or simply not practicable for this house. There was a good chance that I would be carrying the costs of these sample pieces that I planned on building for a considerable period of time. My intention of using this house as a showcase for my furniture building would cost less in the long run than renting a store front. In addition to the obvious increase in overhead, another major problem with renting a storefront would be to find staffing that could cover the times during which the showroom was open. Besides, another consideration was the fact that this was a residential area and running a home business would be in violation of city ordinances and local zonings.

If this was to become more or less a full time job, I was concerned and somewhat afraid that I might lose my passion for and love of building hand crafted furniture. I was afraid the economic realities of making payroll for Sid and covering all of our other overheads would cause me to become concerned with producing volume rather than concentrating on the quality of the furniture that we produced. My passion was for the latter.

I wrestled with this for a long time. The reality was that I had to build furniture that would be affordable and sell rather quickly. I knew that the furniture pieces that would be the most challenging to make would also be the most expensive. To be profitable and remain in business, I knew that I would have to keep costs under control to be able to produce pieces that would sell quickly. I knew that pieces incorporating advanced design would be the most labor intensive, therefore would simply be off limits to most of my customers.



















I had to be honest with myself and admit that the good commissions that allowed me to be able to design and build a piece with out regard to cost were going to be few and far between.

For the time being I had help because Sid was still out of full time work and teaching jobs were hard to come by. My other helper and business partner, TJ, helped me with the staining on weekends.










One other influencing factor in my decision to try designing, building and selling fine furniture was my employment situation. The contract for driving the metro buses and trains had expired and it appeared that management and the union was at an impasse; headed for a strike.










At best, I knew that I would only be able to do both jobs for a limited time. I had been working seven days a week already and was feeling burned. I knew that I could only go on like this for a limited period.

I had invested several thousand dollars in tools and additional thousands in making my shop functional with the installation of a heater, 220V electrical, as well as several other improvements. This was necessary not only for the work I had been doing on the side, but in order for me to complete the rehabilitation work on "This Old Crack House".

I was looking for any avenue I could to add income because it appeared that we were heading for a strike with my regular job as a part-time bus driver. Our contract had expired over a year ago and no progress had been made on a new contract. I simply couldn't afford not to have an income.

I am the type of person who looks for a way to make something pay for itself or give me a return for my investment. I think that came from growing up on the farm and having very little to work with in terms of capital and low financial returns from our milking operation which consisted of 110 ten cows. We were no stranger to hard work; we worked seven days a week. We were taught early on that if you wanted to eat you will work. Without exception this was true for the whole family.










My father, now in his late eighties, still gets up every day at five in the morning and works on some project around the home. He still mows six acres of grass and takes care of my sister's home a quarter mile away. He suffers from an advance stage of Parkinson, but refuses to let that be an excuse for not doing what he considers his fair share.










When he heard Ms. D a wheelchair ramp built in order to be able to be released from the nursing home, he was the first to volunteer to help.

To this day, I have a hard time just sitting and relaxing. However, I at least take one day a week off. I try resting on Sunday. I simply can't work like I used to anymore. My hand has become very painful and hinders my ability to work like I once did. It's a simple fact, whether I like it or not. My hand is full of arthritis and scar tissue from eight surgeries and, at times, the pain so excoriating, I can hardly bear it. I don't take any drugs or pain medication for the pain. I never have, and have no intentions of starting now. I have been blessed to be able to use it as much as I have.

I have no reason to complain and won't. I am grateful I still have my overall health.

One way I have been able to make some extra money on the side other than doing remodeling jobs or building furniture has been teaching advanced woodworking for a national woodworking retail store. This has been both demanding and rewarding. I also have taught a lot of beginning woodworking classes and have never charged a dime; nor will I ever. I feel very strongly about giving back some of what I have received from the craft of woodworking. I never had anyone teach me and vowed a long time ago that if I ever had an opportunity to teach or give back, I would do so freely. I have done and still do this to this day.

In my head, I began to plan and think about how I could use the house as a showcase for the furniture I designed and built with TJ and Sid's help.

Slowly a complete picture of the show room I wanted began to emerge in my mind. The concept and plan was very simple.

To the best of my ability, the showroom would simply be a reflection of the historically correct period of furniture I was attempting to recreate. I wanted it to be a place where I could showcase my designs, tastes and works. Early on, I set guidelines for myself to follow. They included things such as; furniture that was practical, affordable, and functional. The furniture also had to have exceptional visual appeal.

Due to the house's narrow halls, small rooms, and the low headers clearance over the stairways, I had several challenges to overcome.

One of the greatest influences in choosing the period furniture from the Arts and Crafts and Mission styles, was the woodwork which I had to build and reinstall after the previous homeowners miserably failed in their attempt to refinish it.

The style of the house, along with the hardwood floors, layout and stucco finish all lent to the decision to build a theme or style of furniture that most people would call Arts and Crafts or Mission period furniture.

Furthermore, I had a personal preference for and an interest in this period. At that point in my woodworking journey, I had limited knowledge and experience, nor did I know much of the history of the style of furniture known as Mission. In short I had no clue about any of it except that I liked it. That was enough to get me to try build some of it.

Over the next year it added up to over fifty pieces alone for the showroom. In total over one hundred and forty three pieces of Arts and Crafts and Mission furniture would be built. The pieces that I didn't use in the show room were sold to pay for the ones I keep.

There was neither a dull moment nor time to waste. I worked seven days a week 12 to fourteen hours a day besides driving my shift for my bus route. Sid and TJ helped as much as they could.

To say the least, I was exhausted and wouldn't recommend this to anyone. In fact, if I have one regret, it would be that I didn't enjoy the journey more while I was on it. Over all, I have few regrets in life but this would be one of them that I didn't take more time to enjoy the journey. To be profitable, I had to be focused and production orientated in order to meet my time lines.










The first piece of furniture I built was a dining-room hutch. I wanted this to be not only a signature piece but a central focus and theme-setting room. I felt this piece would set the tone for the rest of the house. I think it accomplished this.

If I only knew of the incredible challenges and sheer amount of work that lay ahead of me, I should have sold that first piece and taken the money and ran when I had the chances. But I didn't and now I have a story and memories that many people seem to think I should tell.

I will try.

I have no doubt I will fall short in this effort also but I will try my best.

Copyright… all rights reserved D.Jerzak 05/15/07


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


...a showroom? I'm wondering if you will ever get to live in the house. It is looking great, by the way!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dennis,

Stay tuned…

Dust


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## DanLyke (Feb 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks, Dusty, it's great to see the evolution of the place, and even better to see the evolution of how you envision the place, and how what it turns out to be differs from that vision.


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## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I see.

After "This Old Crack House" Dusty NOW has a Mission!

And did you notice the artful and crafty segue into his NEXT story?


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


you certainly do have a story worth telling and worth reading..
The lessons are great that we can learn from you-and they are not all woodworking related!!

The showroom idea is brilliant.


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## ErikinColorado (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty,

I just drooled all over the keyboard as I looked at the photos in this episode…WOW, unbelievable work and craftsmanship. I love the base for the hutch.

Just when I think the story is going to end, you drop another cliff-hanger. I'm loving this.

Erik


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Erik,

Thanks.

There are a few more chapters left to write. Also there are some more surprises. I don't want
to give away much more. I hope you will con't to follow the story. I don't think you will be disappointed in the end.

Thanks again for all your support.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty: Thanks for the journey.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Thanks for taking us along for the ride, enjoying this new phase… a nice break from all the unforseen tragedy in the earlier chapters. So glad you started at the beginning, rather than "now" after renovating this house…


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


I'm with you on that Scott. 
As always, the journey itself is what life is about, not the destination.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


MsDebbieP, and Scotb, et all

If I had to pick one think that I took from the overall experience that still remains with me, it would be that I would of enjoyed the journey more and not been as focused on the end result.

I am not one to have regrets or dwell in the past ,but I certainly can reflect on my experiences and look at what would of made them more meaningful.

I done this and will continue to reflect.

Thank you for all of your support., you will never know how much you have helped me to reflect on all the things I have been fortunate enough to experience.

Dusty


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Restless and unsettled....*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


and thank you for sharing!

It has been a fascinating journey, full of challenges overcome and personal growth. 
The thread that ran through the entire story is "honour and integrity". You are indeed an inpsiration-not only as a woodworker, but as a human being as well!!

I, for one, am honoured to know you.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*










All the time the house was rented, I felt that I should be living there. I had countless hours and a lot of money invested in its refurbishment. After all the work and trouble it just seemed wrong not to be able to enjoy the fruits of my labor.



















In reality, I was living in a recently and substantially remodeled home across the street. I owned this house jointly with my business partner and had invested a lot of money upgrading the existing woodworking shop.

My business partner and I had taken on a number of custom commissions employing Sid and an intern to help with the work. We were kept very busy. For the most part, we were working seven days a week trying to keep up with and fill all of the commission orders for furniture. We were exhausted. In addition to all this we were building various pieces to use in what was to become our show room in "This Old Crack House". Our tenant was going to move out in February.

Our Existing shop was small, so we were short on space to begin with. Projects would be at various stages of 
progress, such as glue up, rough cut, assembly, or waiting for stain. Or sometimes they were awaiting approval before they could proceed to the next stage. One advantage of having the show room was that it gave us much needed storage space.



















I found it so much easier to showcase a project when it was in a natural environment rather than our cluttered shop. It seemed that most clients had a difficult time envisioning their piece of furniture from only a picture or mock up. Time-after-time, the showroom proved itself invaluable in helping sell commissions.



















Unfortunately, although I was really enjoying the designing, decorating and displaying process of creating fine furniture, I found the actual work of building the furniture had become drudgery. It was what I feared; that I would lose some of my passion and it would become just a job.

This concerned me. The need to make this a profitable business adventure really affected how I approached each piece and the amount of time I could afford to spend with each commission.

Over the period of the last year, we had become very cost-conscious and efficient. We learned how to be productive without compromising quality. This was no easy task.

Every new project went through a complete review to determine the best and most effective way to bring it to completion. This way, everyone was on board. I also had initiated a bonus process that was based on several things including quality control, finishing the project on time and on or under budget. Because of this, it was essential that everyone was on the same page in order that they were able to contribute to the end result.

Overall, we all had contributed to making this a very efficient and profitable business. I'm still amazed how much I learned and was able to advance my woodworking craft, especially since I was self taught, never having had any formally training.

From the very beginning, one expectation I had for Sid was that he enroll in a local two year woodworking program. We paid his tuition for this program and lent him any tools that were needed. I also required the intern and TJ, my business partner, to take classes that could help them advance their craft.










My rational for requiring this for Sid, an ex-school teacher, was the fact that in addition to him, there were many laid off teachers. It would be a extended period of time before the market was able to adjust and new jobs become available. I also wasn't sure that building commission would last into the future. I wanted him to be prepared in the event this didn't work out, or we decided not to pursue this in the future. I felt it would be unfair to him not to provide a fall-back position.

In the end, he chose instead to return to teaching and purse woodworking as a hobby. Regardless of this choice, should it be necessary, he still has excellent training and experience in a craft should he every need an alternative means of earning a living.

As the commissioned pieces were completed, it provided time and cash to build the pieces of furniture I had designed for the showroom. I careful planed each piece. I wanted every piece to be made to the highest standards. They also had to fit into the overall theme of the house. Early on, I discovered that several of the classic pieces that I'd planned weren't practical. They were simply unfordable for most people.




























One of the many design challenges I had to overcome was the narrow halls and low headroom clearance to move pieces up and down stairs. When it came to larger pieces such as armories and bed frames, I was severely limited in the choices of furniture that I could build. One way I solved this was to design and build these pieces in two or more pieces so that they could pass through the limited clearance I had going upstairs or through narrow hallways.



















Also, we made two of every piece we built. The prototype was first. Then after it was completed we decided on the changes that we felt would enhance the piece, make it a better design, add to its overall appearance and/or make it simpler to build and more affordable. We would then build the second piece and sell the first one. This strategy turned out to be a great way to test drive, if you will, various designs. And it also made us better overall craftsman. The fact that we were able to sell the prototype made it affordable and practical to do this.



















This experience was priceless. Never did "build it and learn" mean as much as it did in these cases.

As time passed, we began to fill the house up with many pieces of furniture. Several of these were still unfinished due to the innovative, but time-consuming Twelve-step Mission Finishing Process that we used. Most of my attention was focused on designing and building the various pieces. At this point, my business partner took on most of the staining responsibility. However, over time he was able to refine the twelve-step mission process and perfect and improve the end result immensely.

To this day we still use this *Twelve-step Mission Finishing Process.* We continue to receive very favorable feedback on our projects.

I was well aware that our tenants were only temporarily in the house. I knew this going into the arrangement. He already had a closing date on his town house and the basement tenant only planned to remain until the first of the year. Their overall stay would be less than six months. I had to decide what the next step would be. The house was rapidly filling up with various pieces of furniture. I had already begun using it to show samples of various pieces of our work to clients. This showroom had become a tremendous asset in the sales of commissioned work. The showroom provided a natural environment. It helped people visualize the pieces in their own homes. It also made the piece stand out and the overall presentation more effective.










For example, if I was showing a client a Mission chair or rocker I would take them into the library or parlor and serve them tea or coffee and have them sit in all the furniture complete with all the other furnishing such as lamps, end tables, hutches and various other pieces surrounding them. This made it feel like a natural experience. And often, it led to sales of several accessory pieces.

Over time, I not only became aware how valuable the showroom had become but also how it had really had started to growing on me. The showroom had begun to feel like a home because great care had been taken to decorate it like I would my own home. Several of our customers would comment that they would love to live in the house. This got me to thinking about this possibility.

The overhead thus far was being paid because of the tenants' rents. However, it was becoming more difficult to gain access to the entire house and its furnishing because we still had to work around the one tenant for showing. He was very cooperative but it was still cumbersome. The tenant in the basement would be leaving soon and it was agreed that, when he left, the upstairs tenant would move into the basement apartment until he moved out. At most, this would only be six to eight weeks. By doing this, we would have access to the whole house and begin to finish the period decorating of the rest of the house.

The choice to move into this house was not mine alone because I jointly own this house with my business partner along with our current residence. I had really become attached to the house and had a long and vested history in getting it to this point. When I mentioned or broached the subject of moving into the house, the response from my business partner was always the same. It's not practical for us two to live in the house because there were no bedrooms on the first floor or a bathroom on the second floor where the three bedrooms were located. The kitchen on the main floor was also very small and not really practical. It was an economic reality that we would have to sell our current home because making two mortgage payments wasn't viable long-term.

My response to his objections was simple. We had a *vacant lot* that adjoined the house that no decision had been made on what to do with the vacant lot at this point. My proposal was to build on a new addition to the house that would include a new kitchen, bathroom, family room and new shop.

We had outgrown our existing shop at that point. Although we had spent a considerable amount of money in upgrading the shop it still wasn't very practical or well suited for building future. We were just barely getting by. It was clear that if we were to continue building custom furniture, something had to change.

Another reality was that house we were utilizing as a showroom was in a residential area and we were really running afoul of the zoning laws. Even though all of our neighbors were very supportive of what we were doing, we were taking a real risk as long as we continued doing so. One complaint to the city could shut us down.

My research into this indicated that we were allowed to have a home business with certain restrictions, as long as we lived in the house. To just use the existing house as a showroom wasn't allowed and was in violation of local zoning ordinances.

As I saw it, overcoming my business partner's objections and obtaining his approval to my proposal was simple. First, our existing home had to be sold. Second, we would have to have a new kitchen, bathroom and main floor bedroom. The addition also had to be affordable. Third, the new shop had to be approved by the city.

The only other question he had was, what would we do with the existing showroom?

At the time, my simple answer was, nothing. We would continue to use it as our showroom when necessary to show our clients various pieces the only difference would be we would live in the home.

At that point, he was unsure of this arrangement, but if all the other hurdles were overcome, he would consider this or find another suitable solution.

"No problem! I told him.

I went to work selling the house and designing the new addition.

I was excited about this, but had no clue if I could pull it off, let alone what I would come up with for an affordable design.

If I only knew what lay ahead. Our union had reached a stalemate on contract negotiations, and it appeared that we were headed for a long strike.

What had I got myself into I thought. I really had no clue, but would find out soon what pitfalls and enormous challenges were waiting for me.

Hind sight being genius that said; if I only knew now, what I didn't know or couldn't have known then.

Oh the things I get myself into.

When will I learn?

Copyright… all rights reserved D.Jerzak 05/12/07


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Wow!


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## boboswin (May 23, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


A great story , well told.
I was intrigued by your ability to paint this word picture and make it into a series.
Looks like you have another calling should you ever want to write for a living.
Bob


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## oscorner (Aug 7, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


What an intriguing life you have lived. What a story. Life is made up of all the things you have talked about. The pitfalls, the what if'ss and the if I had only known. Just know that we've all had our share of these and knowing that we are not alone makes it easier to for all to press on. You furiture is very impressive.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Great story Dusty. Congratulations on the custom Commissioned business.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


...Oh the drudgery of woodworking! I know it well. Good blogging!


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


brilliant business idea!!!

Genius instead.


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Another amazing chapter in the "This old Crack House Saga." I still think this would be a great book, wonderful movie and a story all of us should read again and again.


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Build it and they will come...Show it off...in the show room house*
> 
> 
> 
> ...


In case you missed this - bump!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*Are you sure your in the right class?*










The only things that were keeping me from moving into *"This Old Crack House"* was $80,000, the estimated cost of the new addition, the sale of my existing house, approval to build on the *vacant lot,* and a design and plans that I could build from.










Oh, and did I mention that I was headed for a strike and all indications were it would be a long one?

No Problem, I thought to myself. However, it was a problem, but no more than anything else I had faced and tackled with the purchase and remodeling of *"This Old Crack House".*

Once again I was wrong. This wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time either.

In my head, I had a pretty good idea what I wanted for the addition to the house.

As I stated previously, the bare minimum I needed to build to convince my business partner to sell his half of the existing house and move into this house, would be a new kitchen, main floor bedroom, bathroom, and a new shop (attached garage).

I began to sketch plans on scrap paper and show him the designs. He always ended with, "nice but this house has to be sold before we could start building" and reminding me that it had to be affordable. One of the stipulations or stumbling blocks was that he insisted we not only recover all of our costs from the other house, but we couldn't take on any more debt. In other words, we had to sell our house and use the profits to fund the expansion of the house across the street.










I was counting on the fact that the market had remained very hot in our price range and houses were appreciating an average of eight percent annually. We had spent a substantial amount of money and invested a great deal of sweat-equity remodeling the house over the five years that we lived in it. We expected to realize in the two hundred ten thousand dollar range. This is considered very affordable in the Minneapolis St Paul area.



















By this time we had really outgrown our existing space in our shop and had a showroom full of both finished and unfinished furniture. We also had converted the existing two stall garage at "This Old Crack House" to a stain shop only. This not only freed up room for our existing shop it simply wasn't practical to hold up production on furniture while going through the lengthy staining process.



















I also was beginning to feel the effects of working seven days a week in less than desirable and very cramped quarters.

In short I was exhausted.

I also was acutely aware that we were at a crossroads at this point with our custom furniture building business. Several factors were beginning to emerge as to whether we were going to continue our side business. It had always been our intention to do this on the side and not as a full-time business as our soul means of income. In addition to providing a job for our long time friend and helper Sid, and our own furniture building to furnish the house, we started it to learn how to do fine furniture wood working. We initially started it because not only were we unable to find specific pieces of furniture we liked, they simply didn't fit or weren't practical for the narrow halls and low clearance of the stairway headers.










Of course, price was another factor in choosing to build our own furniture. We simply couldn't afford to buy the period furniture that was relevant to the style of our rehabilitated house.

From the beginning, the idea was to run the sideline furniture-building business at break-even, allowing us to cover all cost including tools and raw materials thus enabling us to furnish our house without any out-of-pocket expense. We were able to achieve this goal, and gain wonderful and invaluable furniture-building experience without as much as a single class or course in woodworking.

We considered this to be a success in our woodworking adventures.

From the beginning, I was concerned that if I built fine furniture for a living or did woodworking as my daily job I would lose my passion for woodworking. I didn't want woodworking to simply become another "job".

I also knew that I had the type of personality that takes on a challenge, works through the issues, achieves the goals and moves on. I'm exhilarated by new challenges; discovering and exploring new adventures. I am not so arrogant as to think that I had mastered woodworking and was beyond improving or expanding my knowledge of the craft. I am simply saying I am the type of person who needs new and fresh challenges all the time. I suppose this story is ample evidence of this.

I thought one way for me to continue expanding my woodworking skills and satisfy my desire for new adventure was to learn the art of stained glass. I always admired the work those in that craft were able to do and thought it would be a natural extension of woodworking. I had briefly looked into some community education classes but found them to be more oriented to simple projects and hobbyists.

That wasn't sufficient for me. I personally wanted to learn the intricacies of the craft and become one of the craftsmen in this specialized field.

Little did I know or realize what kind of commitment this would take.

One again I was humbled and so wrong about something about which I had very little knowledge. I simply had no idea about the complexities of stained glass and all the avenues and skills needed to become proficient in the craft.

I had applied for an internship at an established nationally known stained glass school and business that was affiliated with several local colleges and art and design professionals. This was a hands-on program that consisted of both class and studio experience.

The training was a little over two years. It was five days a week, four to six hours a day in the master's stained glass studio or classroom. In addition to this, I was expected to spend a minimum of two hours and often six plus hours in my own shop or studio working on assigned projects. For all practical purposes for seven days a week, for about two and one half years, I worked on stained glass and furniture. I was very lucky to have my own shop and be able to incorporate it into my furniture building. I had converted one section of my shop just to do stained glass work. This was quite challenging because of the dusty nature of woodworking and the fragile state of handling glass.

I could write a whole story about my training experiences learning to become a stained glass artist. Some day I may.

However for now, all I want to say is that for those who have an interest in the craft of stained glass, it was one of the biggest challenges I have ever taken on and, at the same time, the most rewarding.

I was the only student who never had as much as a single art class or degree in art or design. In fact I was the only student who didn't have a master's degree or better in art.

For the record I also didn't have any tattoo's, green hair, hoops, rings, or other metal pieces inserted in my body. I never had a laptop, drank bottled water, or a specialty cup of coffee that cost over three dollars.

I attended my classes with a tape measure in it's holster, jeans, work boots and band aides in my pocket. I packed my lunch in my lunch box ever day of class and often sat alone , in the lunch room reading about stained glass while my fellow students went out to eat their lunch at a deli.

I never was invited to join them, I guess I wasn't one of them.

Although it stung in the end it never mattered.

Many of them have since made amends to me and have told me how they misjudged me because I was so quiet as a student.

Several have not taken time get to know me or see my work as a woodworker.










When I started I never knew what 'genre' was, let alone be able pronounce it correctly.

The first night of class, there were twelve students present. We all had to introduce ourselves and give a summary of our experience and accomplishments and why we wanted to become stained glass artisans. Considering the acceptance process was grueling and had taken nearly a year before one of the internships was offered to me, I had for some reason, perhaps ignorance, been lead to believe that experience in art or stained glass was not a prerequisite. I sat in horror listening to student after student listing one after another, major accomplishments or honors and various art shows and awards they had attained in there careers.

Never had I felt so embarrassed and inadequate in my life as I did at that moment.

I was positive they had made a mistake, in accepting me into this program. I almost excused myself to use the restroom planning to exit and never come back.

When it was my turn to give a short autobiography of myself in horror and a shaking voice I said "I'm Dusty. I am a self taught woodworker and have no experience in stained glass or art." The reason I am here is I want to learn and think I can incorporate stained glass into my woodworking and home that I am refurbishing."

There was dead silence.

After what seemed like a week, and a flushed face and near internal panic one of the students said, "That's hot!" which broke the silence.

I was never so grateful in my life.

At that moment I committed myself to proving to them through my work that just being a "woodworker" wasn't some handicap that needed to be overcome, but rather an asset.

I decided right there this would be my calling.

For the record, and not to toot my own horn, I am the only student to completely finish the course, and have been nationally recognized for my stained glass work, and have been offered many jobs in the stained glass field.

I am currently a special adjunct professor at that very school, and several others where I teach special classes in stained glass and woodworking.

The editors of "Popular Mechanics" choose my business partner and myself our of hundreds of thousands of submitted entry's for The DIY RALLY, wildest readers projects 2007. We were the only woodworkers to make the cut and magazine.

I may of been in the wrong class, to begin with, however I at least stuck with it and went to all the classes and finished.

Enough said.

This experience would become one of the most influential experiences of my life. It transformed my personal life and lead to the final chapter in "This Old Crack House".

This final chapter includes such things as one hundred and twenty-five handmade stained glass windows,125 plus pieces of furniture and individual cartoons that are incorporated into the house and new addition.

Oh and did I mention a one of a kind stained glass ceiling?










It has been filmed and written about as being the only one in the world.

Not bad for a one handed carpenter and woodworker, I thought to myself, as I reflect back to the first night of stained glass school when during the first break, one of the students ask me if I had accidentally come to the wrong class.

That night I thought so; today, I think not.

I am a proud woodworker who also does stained glass.




























I offer no apologies or explanations for this any longer. I hope that you will agree, as I begin to write and show you the end results through pictures of the last few chapters of "This Old Crack House".

Then again you may ask me "Are you sure you belong being a member of the web site, *LumberJocks?
*
I know that some of the most talented woodworkers from all over the world show their works here.

That is how I learn, being surrounded by the best, not being intimidated or afraid of them.

Certainly I don't belong to this elite group.

That's ok.

There is nothing that says I can't strive to someday be amongst them.

I have been in this position before.

I don't mind being on the outside looking in.

That's home to me.

Copyright… all rights reserved D.Jerzak 06/10/07


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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The story sure comes alive with all these pictures, Dusty!


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Great Job Dusty.

We are glad and proud to call you a friend.

You have offered us a ride on your bus trip through life, and we couldn't be more proud of you and the journey that you took us on. We thought it was just going to be a little trip, instead it bacame a trip of a lifetime. We see the sides of things, but never get to see the inner working. You have shown it all.

We couldn't be more proud of you and all that you have acomplished.

Stand tall, we are applauding you with our hands and hearts.

Thanks for the trip.

My prayers are with you and all that you can accomplish, may you be blessed.


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## gizmodyne (Mar 15, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Very inspirational tale. I think these old houses do something to us Dusty. I am just getting going.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Karson,

Thank you.

I am great full to be able to have this web site and readers to tell my story.

I have two or three chapters left and perhaps a surprise or too before I am done.

I hope you will stay with me until the end, as you have so far.

I hope that you will feel it was worth the wait.


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Thank you, Dusty. Thank you very much for this vivid, thought provoking and inspiring series. As I mentioned in a comment when you asked the community if you should continue the tale, This series was one of the main reasons I decided to get involved here an not just 'follow along'. I respect very much what you have done and appreciate that you can, and do, share it with the group as a humble citizen.

If your schedule and desire to share continues, I personally would love to read more about the two-year study of stained glass. Perhaps I should take a glass.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Gizmodyne,

I agree with you.

I wouldn't presume or want to even attempt to give you any advise because it probley would be worthless anyways.

I will leave that up to the hundreds of friends, relatives, and sidewalk superintendents who you will find will dispense there advice often and with some assumed authority.

If I was to suggestion something it would be to enjoy every moment of the journey.

That is where all the joy lies.

The end I found is just that, the end.

A letdown.

A place to start new beginning's.

In other words.

Next.

May I suggest you keep a daily journal

I cherish that I did this.

I wish you all the success and am envoys of your new adventure.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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I have goosebumps on my arms and legs, tears in my eyes, and a lump in my throat.

This indeed has been quite a journey and I am honoured to be amongst those that have had the privilege of reading it. 
I bow to you personal strengths, dedication, integrity, and honour.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Caliper,

Thank you.

I am kicking around a couple ideas and writing about the stained glass experiences and how I incorporate it into my woodworking is one of the blog series I am considering.

If fellow lumberjacks will indulge me I am so inclined to attempt to write about my experiences this fall when time permits.
I would invite you to sample a class or two in stained glass. Even if its a simple intro class, I think you will find it very useful and rewarding. I am sure that you would agree it will make you a better woodworker. Stained glass will teach you patience along with a lot about design and color.

One other option would to come hang out in my shop this fall some time and I would be glad to give you some intro lessons to a fellow woodworker. After all you live only a short distance and across the river from me.

I would extend this offer to tour "This Old Crack House" and my shop to any other fellow lumberjack who might be in Minneapolis.

I don't charge for any of the lessons I give in my shop to other woodworkers.

I have found the greatest reward I can give myself is to give away any talents I have with my crafts.

Thank you for giving me encouragement and support in sharing my story.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Debbie,

I am the one who is honored to have had all the encouragement you keep giving me to write "This Old Crack 
House".

Thank you is not enough, I know this.

However it is all I have to offer and it comes from my heart.


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## BillinDetroit (Jul 6, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Rats! I was in MPLS (Egan, actually) in April and it will probably be April of next year before I get back there. Perhaps the offer will still be open then and I can prevail upon your good graces for an hour or so? Glass and I have never gotten along very well but I can think of loads of places where it would spice things up.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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BillinDetroit,

No problem the offer is always open to fellow lumberjocks. Just email me and let me know when you will be here and we will make it work.

I would be happy to teach you how to get alone with glass. I'm sure when you started with wood you said the same thing.

Does the word slivers ring a bell?


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Hi Dusty! I was going into withdrawls. Our power was cut off for a couple of days (windstorm) and I want you to know this is the first place i came after power was restored. I just had to get my fix of "this old crack house". I'm looking forward to your blog on stained glass. It is a favorite of mine.


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## Caliper (Mar 12, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Dusty,

Thanks for the invitation. I very much want to stop by and visit. I've been super busy with getting our place ready for sale. It goes on the market Tuesday and I should have much more time in the evenings now. I'll drop you a PM soon to set something up. I'm pretty excited to take the tour!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Dennis,

Thank you I am honored. I know how you feel about not being able to log into lumberjocks web site.

I am working about 70 hours a week now and still taking care of Ms D, and my elderly parents. I don't get a lot of time to come on line anymore.

I hope you didn't have any damage from the wind storm.

Its good to see you back on line, I was wondering what was going on your always so supportive of my blog writing.


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Thanks so much. I ditto what Debbie said. I'm sure glad I have met you and gotten to read your story.

Diane


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## ErikinColorado (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Uh, whaddaya mean you don't think you belong here? It's obvious we can all learn a lot from you about woodworking and perseverance and about your outlook on life in general. This series has been one of the most inspiring I've ever read, and just when you post some jaw-dropping photos of your furniture, you go and post photos of that wonderful ceiling…I just sat here speechless for a few minutes with drool running out of my mouth (literally, I was that spellbound).

You've inspired me to go and expand my boundaries in woodworking. Please keep writing, I can't wait for more!


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *Are you sure your in the right class?*
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Dusty, I appologize for being away for so long….I missed your blog when if fiirst came out. I want to thank you for another peak into your life, it is an inspiring story. It gives us strength to know that we can indure what life put in our path. With my past surgery, I truely understand what "limited abilities" has come to mean for me. It can be very frustrating but it has also taught me to look at things differently. Right now, I can't use any of my hand planes or scrapers, I just don't have the strength in my arm right now. But there are other ways to get the job done, I just need to find them.

I do agree whole heartedly that your stained glass fits very well into your woodworking. The end results are beautiful. I would be honored to own one of your peices. You have inspired me to search out other materials to incorporate into my projects.

Thanks again for blessing us with your story. God Bless and give my best to Mrs. D.

Greg


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## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Just think what this would be like if he had two good h ands!


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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EricinColorado,

Thank you.

I'm humbled and honored with your kind comments. I only can hope you can find the tremendous amount of personal satification that I have from woodworking and doing stained glass .

But the greatest honor for me is to have some one tell me that I have in some small way inspired them to pursue the craft of there choice.

That is humbling.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Greg,

Your personal struggle and story I know only two well. That said I have to say and I think you would agree we don't tell it for pity or attention. We share it for what it is, part of us and our being.

I've always felt, what we do with our short comings or personal limitations is what will define us as a person.

Sharing how we have learned to overcome or live with these will define how others see us through there eyes.

It is with heart felt God Speed that I am happy your back and wish you full recovery.

I also know you are up to the challenge to overcome what ever you find in your path.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


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Lumber jocks,

I am still writing the last couple of chapters to "This Old Crack House".

I am, as every one is ,these days very busy and have only limited time to write.

I hope that you will all continue to hang in there with me as you have in the past.

I hope you will find the ending worth the wait.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


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we're hanging.. we're hanging 
always worth the wait!!


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


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It's nice to know I'm not the only one to wake up one day and decide to start something new. And then commit a few, if not several years to said study. I've been an artist forever - but nothing compared to some of my fellow classmates from Highschool on. And before woodworking I'd never found my "medium" Wood may still not be mine - but it's the one I've responded to best in 30+ years. I have an attic full of art supplies and memories from all the medium I've attempted (will someday make a book/record of everything) but in the meantime - working on the house, and working with wood is the passion that keeps my brain going.
Outside of art I've (on the chancest of whims) taken up Cross-country running/track in high school, Judo in college (one of the best things I could have ever done physically/mentally), later studied fencing for a couple years.


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## Skinna (Aug 16, 2007)

Dusty said:


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I feel ya when ya say 'are you in the right class' I was taught stained glass artistry by a friend a few years back, and then ended up helping her with teaching stained glass classes, at the time I was doing mostly DJ work in the clubs, and the students at the stained glass classes were usually the ones asking me 'are you sure you're teaching the right class? are you sure you shouldn't be teaching weightlifting or debt collection or something else?' needless to say, all those comments were gone out the window by the time they were leaving the class with their beautiful glass work. The Stained Glass artist who I was helping has a website it can be viewed at http://www.glassxpressions.com.au or they have fused (melted) glass stuff online at http://www.voodooglass.com.au


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The Addition part one ... *










Selling our existing house was the only major hurtle that had to be overcome before building an addition onto "This Old Crack House".

Coincidently, I've held a tool-sale every January in the stain shop. I would sell excess tools. These were refurnished tools that had been replaced with a newer model. Often various manufactures would ask me to test new models and give them feedback. For the most part, they would not expect the tool back at the end of the test and the tool was ours to do as we wanted.

I would advise my neighbors and friends to have a look at the tools in advance of opening the tool sale up to the general public. Many of my neighbors and buddies waited all year for this sale, because there were not only a lot of good tools to choose from, but they were priced very modestly.

It wasn't uncommon to sell three to five thousand dollars worth of tools in two days.

While giving an advance showing to one of my neighbors who lived three doors down from me, I mention that we were going to be putting up our house for sale and had planed to put a new addition on *"This Old Crack House"* and move into it sometime during late spring or early summer.
The guy I mentioned this to told me that his wife had always loved the house and that they had been talking about getting a bigger one. He said he would talk to his wife and he would let me know if she was interested in the house. He was already sold on the idea because of all the work I did on the shop.

Two years earlier I had build him a new double stall garage but he hadn't finished out the interior nor had any heat installed.

He left and said he would call me as soon as he talked to his wife.










Within the hour, he called me and said his wife was very interested in the house. He had called here at work to tell her that the house would be coming up for sale. She wanted to come and look at the house when she got off work. Less than two hours after I had mentioned to my neighbor, he and his wife were going through the house. They were both very interested in it.

We sat at the dinner table and talked about what it would take for them to buy the house.
One of their requirements was that they would have to first sell their house. One big advantage I offered was my background as a Para-legal I could do all the purchase agreements and save several thousand dollars in selling commissions.

I was also very familiar with the real estate market having both remodeled and sold several houses in the past. I also had a number of clients and friends who were very interested in moving up to our neighborhood. We established a very friendly close-knit neighborhood. It offered affordable housing, that when remodeled, would really increase the value in a very short period of time. In our immediate neighborhood, we had bought nine houses, which we remodeled and sold.

I already had a prospect in mind for their house. We had agreed on a purchase price of two hundred four thousand dollars for our house and one hundred fifty thousand for their house.








!

Their house was in need of substantial updating and remodeling. They new this and were worried that this would be a problem. I assured them it would not because I was capable of remodeling the house to the buyer's choices and specifications. They accepted this because of the garage I had built them and the several tours they had undertaken of our remodeling projects.

This fact brought a huge sense of relief to them. They had their heart set and in their minds, were already moving into our house.

I placed a call to my buddy whom I knew was looking at buying his first house. He had been looking at condos and townhouses. I suggested he come and see their house before he made a final decision on any others. If he didn't like what he saw, or it didn't fit his needs, there would be no pressure. He could move on.

He knew me well and was very familiar with my work. He jumped at the chance to look at the house. After touring the house he fell in love with it. Not as it was but what it could become. We talked about several scenarios and options. All of them were very realistic and doable.

I introduced him to the sellers and we discussed what had to happen in order for the houses to be sold. All the parties were willing to be flexible. For all of the obvious reasons, it was a great advantage to have the houses pre-sold.










It was the middle of a Minnesota winter. The ground was frozen and the frost was about two feet deep. Considering our tight budget, the cost of digging the basement, and heating the water and sand for the blocks, would be too costly.

This was simply the matter of timing. The solution was to sign purchase agreements, close on all the proprieties and each of us rent back until our new house was built. This would work out fine because my buddy, who was buying our neighbor's house, lived in an apartment with three months left on his lease. The rent that he received would more than cover his mortgage payments.

We signed the purchase agreements in January and closed on the properties in early March. We started with my buddy's house first because my neighbor would need the equity from that sale to fund the purchase of our house which was about fifty-five thousand dollars more.

In turn we would close on ours and rent back. We needed the equity to fund the construction of the new addition to "This Old Crack House". One of the agreements I had with my business partner was that we wouldn't take on any more debt but would fund the construction from equity earned from the appreciation and sale of our exiting house.

After living in that house for 5 years and deducting the cost of remodeling of the house and shop we would net over eighty grand which would be used to fund the construction of the new addition.

The first plans I had called for a two story twenty-eight hundred square foot addition. That was clearly a pipe dream and after I did the first take off and cost estimate, I scaled that back to a twelve hundred square foot addition with a thirty by twenty six foot shop attached to the house. This was far more realistic but would still take some real work and ingenuity to make these numbers work. However, I had been in this position before and was confident that I could bring the basic house in on budget.

!







!

Due to a potential union strike, the one big looming trouble-spot on the horizon was the indication that my employment was in jeopardy. It was my only real source of income and health insurance. I had known this for months because we had been working without a contract for over a year and things was coming to a head. I had saved every spare penny I could and had taken on extra commissions in woodworking to try to cushion the loss of income.

Although I could do more of my own work faster, I also feared that if I went on strike it would take away from my commission work and affect that income. I still had Sid, TJ and an intern on the payroll. I was just feeling uncomfortable with all the uncertainties but somehow felt they would work out in the end.

To fulfill my dream to live in "This Old Crack House", I was simply operating on blind faith. Once the decision was made, I never looked back.

Sure enough we went on strike and to keep my union status in good standing, I had to do strike duty on the picket-line. On one hand, it was a blessing because now I was free to prepare to break ground for the new addition as soon as the frost thawed. Before any actual work could be commenced, I had a lot of planning, material purchasing, and building permits to obtain.










I chose the midnight shift to do my required picketing. This would allow me to work on the house during the days. I was only required to do three shifts in a two week period but it was the middle of a cold winter, so they were very difficult shifts.

!







!

I couldn't do it again. It's just too hard and in the end, wasn't worth it for me or our Union. Things had changed but our union hadn't.

This is the reality of the times. Enough said.

The upside of this was having the time to work on the house.

I called in several favors and contacted other subs and various people for help. These were people from all trades that I had worked with during my remodeling days. When and where possible, I would exchange labor or goods for a few days help. For example, I had a buddy who did block work. Although I could lay block, I was slow at it and didn't have all the forms and equipment to do the job right. Framing was my expertise, but until I got the basement in and the blocks laid, I couldn't start framing.

We worked out a cash and labor exchange deal. He needed new kitchen cabinets and some furniture so it worked out well. He had a Bob Cat and trailer along with the portable cement mixer and access to a track back hoe to dig the basement. He rented this back hoe and I agreed to pay the daily rental and hauling charges.

On the last Friday in March, he agreed to come over to stake out the addition and strip the black dirt in the yard. We did this and found that there was very little frost present. This was good news and we agreed to start digging the basement early Monday morning.

Monday morning was April 1st, or good old April Fool's Day. It sure made me think about what I was getting into.

I did my strike duty on Saturday night so I could be fresh when he arrived Monday morning. He arrived bright and early and shortly after that, the track back hoe arrived. He got up on the semi trailer and started to unload the hoe, but seemed to struggle to get it off the trailer.

After several attempts and a rough trip off the trailer he got out of the hoe and walked over to me and said, "I can't run that damn thing, it's got John Deere controls and I am used to Cat controls. I told them to send cat controls".

I responded, "Hey I understand; I have run heavy equipment a number of years and know what it's like to get used to one type of control." I asked him if he minded if I ran the hoe. I was used to cat also but had run both a lot in my career in heavy equipment operating.










He said "have at it".

I got in the hoe and dug the basement as he kept the dirt away with the Bob Cat where it couldn't be cast and had to be hauled away. He also built forms while I got the areas of the basement and garage dug.

All in all, doing it this way, it went quickly and well.

I had the city come out and mark the inlet stub for the sewer because I was going to install my own sanity sewer to the house. After I finished digging the basement, I would dig in and install the sewer to the house. We had only rented the back hoe for two days and had planed on digging the basement one day and the sewer the next.

The soil here is all sand with about a foot of top soil. Because sand collapses so easily, you have to over-dig any hole or trench about three-to-one. This makes for some large piles of sand and not a lot of room on the lot to work or store material. 









In order to make it safe for us to install the sanitary sewer line, I had a trench about forty feet long, ten foot deep and eight foot at the bottom tapering to twenty feet at the top.

The city wasn't able to tell me the elevation of the stub going into the manhole at the curb. Their explanation was that when they came through and put in a new sewer and storm sewer, they didn't record the depths. They also were over-budget so wouldn't run a camera down to located the inlets.

I had installed water and sewer for years when I worked as a forty-niner and heavy equipment operator, so I knew what I was in for. It would be a lot of guessing and extra work.

There was no point in chewing out the building inspector. He didn't install the sewer and didn't set budget policy.

I just started digging.

Darkness had arrived and still no sign of the inlet pipe. The city had already informed me where they thought it could be.

This was the third try.

Frustration!

I was getting close to where I thought the inlet might be regardless of what the city said, but just as it was getting dark, the brand new back-hoe ran a track off.

I had no choice but to send the back-hoe back and rent another one for a day. I had a huge open trench that required temporary fencing around it to prevent anyone falling in.

This I did and went home to bed.

I had been working for twenty hours; I slept well.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

It was a lesson that I had well learned with all the troubles I had with remodeling "This Old Crack House".

I got up early the next morning and went out to the street. I pulled the manhole cover off and climbed down locating the inlet pipe myself. I then guessed the best I could using my experience where the stub would be on the curb side of my property. The new back-hoe arrived and two hours later I located the inlet pipe. It was within 6 inches of where I guessed it would be.

The city's location-stakes were ten feet from where I found it.

I was just grateful that I had found it. I called for an inspection of the trench. The city inspector came out and felt bad for me because of all the trouble I had in locating the sewer stub. He was concerned that I wouldn't make the grade that the building code required because he felt that the city had installed the inlet stub too high.

If this was the case it would require several thousand dollars of extra lift pumps and work that I never estimated nor planed.

I told the inspector that I thought it would make grade based on my "grade eye" and have an inch or so to spare. He didn't think so. I was basing my prediction on several years of experience of installing sewer and water systems. We bet coffee. He left and said call me when you make the inlet connection before you back fill. As a result, he caused me to doubt my own judgment and I was concerned it might not work out ending up costing me a lot of money and down-time.

I have been fooled and wrong before and this was no time to let my ego get in the way.
I sent my business partner up to rent a laser transit and tri-pod.

Grade and slope can be very deceiving. After all the elevations were shot we had an inch and half to spare to make the building code requirements.

I was relived. I also collected on my cup of coffee from the inspector.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Addition part one ... *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Hurray! Free coffee…I have a feeling you are going to need the caffeine. Thanks Dusty.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Addition part one ... *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


woo hoo on the coffee.

you are like a whirlwind now.. just making everything happen… dealing with all the challenges!!


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## Chip (Mar 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Addition part one ... *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Been away and just spent a while catching up on the last 7 or 8 stories Dusty. You are certainly amazing. Looking forward to the rest of the installments. By the way, do you ever sleep?


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Addition part one ... *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Dusty you are something, always going on to push yourself to do so many great things. I'm just amazed at all you do. People say that to me about me too so I guess we have that in common but I could never do all you do.

Diane


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Addition part one ... *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Great Job Dusty.


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Addition part one ... *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Ooh… good eye!


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Addition part one ... *
> 
> 
> 
> ...


Great story, Dusty. I simply don't know how you keep up the pace.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*

Part Two….



















The overall building experience of the addition was rather uneventful.

Common problems like material shortages, delays in delivery, and the routine problems with such things and poor quality lumber are just a given for any project. Certainly the missing special-order floor truss and gable end rafter was frustrating but predictable in the course of any construction project. The more building and remodeling I do, the more I expect and prepare for these events.

Simply put, it is part of the business and process. If you will, it's just the nature of the beast.

Rather quickly, you learn how to plan for the vagaries of the building process.
The longer I do this, the more I realize that the less I allow myself to get upset and angry, the more I plan the "what ifs", the better off I am.










!









My blood pressure is no longer a factor. You may call it coping or patience, I call it experience. Building is what it is, no more no less. I take control of the process and don't let the process control me. It really is that simple.

It makes me wonder why it took me so long to figure that out.

I could write a whole chapter or book on how to avoid the most common pitfalls of building and remodeling. I say this because about every mistake there is to make I've made; more than once I might add.



















I've often joked that I am going to write an article and call it, "How not to build … all the steps necessary to insure failure and frustration with catastrophic money consequences." I'm now convinced this has a lot merit and is less of a joke and more certain than ever.





































From the day I took the first bucket load of dirt out of the basement foundation, until substantial completion, was exactly six weeks.

I had committed to moving out of our house, on or before the fifteenth of May. It appeared that the strike was going to be settled and I would have to return to work. This meant a lot less time to work on the house. For anyone who has lived in a unfinished house or remodeling project while trying to finish, you know only too well how hard this can be and what a major inconvenience hassle this is.

!http://img172.imageshack.us/img172/5909/im003527gw9.jpg



















From the beginning of this whole addition project, the mid May date was firm. Regardless of where I was in the project, we had to move. To get as much done as possible and to avoid living in the mess of remodeling, I worked every available hour and pushed as hard as I dared. I realized that I wouldn't have everything done. Unfortunately, the new kitchen cabinets couldn't be completed and installed in time for the deadline.










I made sure all the sheet rock taping and sanding along with the staining and painting was completed. To minimize the inconvenience of living in an unfinished house, I aimed to complete anything that would cause a lot of dust or odors.

Prior to the mid May deadline, my business partner and I had purged as much as we could from the old house so we wouldn't have to move it. I have no idea how one collects so much junk in such a short period of time. To that end I have to wonder why I kept so many worthless things such as my old outdated college text books. I hadn't so much as given them a thought all those years. I had stored these "must keep treasures" way back in the dark crawl space of the attic. Why?

It is amazing how quick that, after just a few loads of this junk, you start to throw things away.

To me, moving across the street was harder than moving a thousand miles. At least if you move a thousand miles, you load the truck and it takes a few days to arrive at your new home. When you live across the street you carry everything by hand. You make a million trips because it not worth the hassle to load the furniture on a truck and to drive 75 feet and unload again.

I was lucky because, each night, my business partner insisted that we take a few loads over to the existing house. In the end, this helped immensely. By the moving day, we had only a few of the necessary items left. His help with moving a lot of the small boxes freed me up to work on finishing the house.

Moving day arrived and everything except the installation of the kitchen cabinets and final plumbing fixtures was pretty much done.










The new shop was one of the very first projects that I completed. Early on, I decided to save time and to improve shop productivity. I laid out the shop so that all the tools would be convenient to use.

I also had several commissions in progress and pieces of furniture that I was building for the house. I had to keep the side business going and still had Sid, my business partner and an intern on the payroll.

To say the least, it was a bit chaotic.

Being organized is the key to keeping ones sanity, being safe, productive, and profitable.

Moving day finally arrived.

To keep out as much dust as I could until finished, I had pulled a sheet of heavy mill plastic across the opening to the new kitchen in the new addition.

Living out of boxes and on mattress's on the floor along with trying to cook with one or two pans (because every thing was packed up for the new kitchen) was challenging.

Cooking out of the old small kitchen confirmed how right my business partner was in insisting that we needed to add on a new kitchen. In the old kitchen, it seemed you had to go outside to change your mind. However, it sure was nice and handy that that I had installed a door that provided easy access to the new deck. This made all the work worthwhile and it sure was convenient not to have to drag all ones dishes halfway across the house when one barbecued and ate on the deck.

I also realized it was a luxury to have a fully functional kitchen that was only used for dining outside on the deck and to prepare food for barbeque's.

To this day I am so glad I built this full kitchen and use it almost as much as the main kitchen.

Living out of boxes is no fun but because we could see light at the end of the tunnel and I was about to realize my dream of living in "This Old Crack House", it didn't seem to matter much to me.

We got by. It was merely and inconvenience.

It is what I refer to as life.

Shrug.

If one doesn't mind it really doesn't matter.

Within two weeks, the kitchen and all the loose ends were done. Every spare moment I could work on the house, I did.

To compound the problem, during the last two weeks of the construction, our strike was settled and I returned to work. This obviously gave me less time to work on the house. I simply did the best I could.

There were a lot of highs and a few lows in the building process. I was exhausted and under constant budget pressures. I needed to keep the sideline furniture building business going. A niggling reality was the mid May move-in deadline. And while on strike, I was without an income or any health insurance coverage because our employer had canceled it to gain leverage in bargaining.

To top it off, after having six weeks without so much as a drop of rain, a storm moved in and dumped eight inches of rain in a two hour period. I mention this because the basement egress window hadn't yet been installed. I was still using the egress opening to through which to put materials for finishing the basement, furnace and duck work. I simply hadn't installed the egress window yet.

The downpour of eight inches of rains came. None of the final landscape or grading had been completed; therefore all of the sand and dirt was piled in the back yard. This pile trapped the rain and provided a conduit to the unfinished basement delivering several inches of water, mud, dirt and sand through the rough opening.

Things could have been much worse than they were had it not been for a good friend of mine who was visiting. He had helped me a lot with the construction and was aware that the basement was open to the weather. For some reason, he decided to check if the basement had remained dry.

He alerted me to the water running in and we sprang to action immediately. I was on the skid loader moving dirt and building trenches that allowed the water to drain away from the house while he boarded up the window.

Lesson learned.

The time not to stop a flood is not during the height of the storm.

It sure is funny how hindsight is genius.

The damage was limited mostly to my bruised ego. I hadn't installed the sheet rock or insulation yet in this portion of the finished basement.

Other than the mess and several wheel barrow loads of mud and sand and a lot of work cleaning up, very little damage was done. We had managed to move all the materials in time to spare them from water damage.

Just another setback, although at the time, I wanted to sit down and cry. There wasn't much I could do, except grab a shovel and start cleaning up.

As the construction began winding down, more and more of our friends and neighbors were becoming very interested in seeing what they said "couldn't be done".

I stuck with my strict policy of allowing only those who were helping with the construction to see the progress. I did this for several reasons. I had told all the others that after completion we would have an open house and they would be able to see the finished product. I simply didn't have the time to show everyone what I was building. The completion of the remodeling of "This Old Crack House" attracted several neighbors and friends and earned us a lot of respect with comments such as, "I wouldn't have believed it, or I cant believe it, or I would never of imagined…".

This time around, there was a lot less negativity and a lot more genuine support and curiosity and less advice dispensed from outside parties. It sure is funny how silent someone becomes when they see a finished project that exceeds any expectations they had or thought possible.

After finishing the inside which was a priority, there was all of the landscaping to complete. The urgent need to complete the landscaping took on a whole new meaning because of the bare dirt. Our two curious basset hounds loved to explore it and then track mud into the house.

It is all part of the building and remodeling process.

We decided to forgo a new hot tub and instead to install a sprinkler system and lay sod along with fencing in the entire back yard. There are always trade offs in any large project when you have a tight budget.

In the worst way, I wanted to match the stucco of the old house with stucco on the new addition. However, due to the prohibitive cost, this simply wasn't in the cards. To stucco the house would have cost over twenty five thousand dollars. My total budget was only eighty grand. It simply wasn't going to happen. I did the next best thing I could. I matched the stucco with colored vinyl. In the future when I can better afford it, I will apply stucco. I am saving for this large expense which is high on my list.

Other than this and only a few small other items I remain very happy with the addition and how it turned out. One of my personal silent victories was my new shop. I had limited space but had spent an extraordinary amount of time designing and planning so I would be able to utilize every square inch. I feel I accomplished this.

I prepared the shop area so that, if in the future I desired, I could very easily convert this area into a great room or some other living space. I also installed a new two hundred amp electrical service and fulfilled my fantasy that when I turned on the lights I would need sunglasses and cause the whole neighborhood to dim.

Mission completed.

!







!

The flip side of having this extraordinary lighting was that all my mistakes show easily to the naked eye.

Having twelve foot ceiling is beyond my greatest expectations or imagined value.

I was a little nervous about having my shop attached to my house and what dust or noise problems this would cause. However, none of this eventuated due to the well insulated two by six wall cavity.

Over time, I have found I really don't need all of the tools and machines that I once thought were necessary. Being organized and making informed and tough decisions as to which tools I truly need has freed up a lot of space and saved a lot of money.

This is hard to admit but simply the truth. I had been convinced by clever advertising and good store merchandising that I needed all those latest new tools. However, the better the craftsman I became, the less I needed.

In the past, I had a weakness and have been a sucker for a lot of expensive tools with only limited benefit. In some cases I have no clue how they are used or have found them to be substandard, or more effort than some simpler way of doing the same thing. Now, before I purchase any new tool, I go through a very critical analysis as to the improved productivity and/or craftsmanship they will, in reality, deliver. In other words, I conduct a considered cost/benefit/time analysis.

This could be a whole chapter abou,t "How not to buy expensive tools that are not necessary, essential, or a good investment."

If I only knew how much money I have spent that hasn't been a good investment or provided a healthy return I would likely be sick. Then again, it's better that I don't know. Some things one is better off not knowing in life and I'm sure this is one of them.

In my defense, I have learned this lesson well and nowadays rarely ever buy a new tool. I tend to stick with what I know is tested and works for me. In short I have learned to do more with less. There is a term for this - "experience". It is just another one of life's little lessons.

As I draw to the end of "This Old Crack House" story I reflect back.










I have stated before that I probably wouldn't do it again.

Now I am not so sure.

Obi, a fellow LumberJock, made a *comment * one of my chapter entries a while back which has stuck with me.

I am still reflecting on his comment and several others have made as I write the last chapter of "This Old Crack House".

I hope you will read the final chapter and with me view the end results in what my answer will be to the question, "Would you do it again?".

At this point I still don't know and won't know until I sit down and write it.

What will it be?


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*
> 
> Part Two….
> 
> ...


Dusty: We thank you for the journey through your life; It has been a blessed trip.

Karson


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## Artist (Feb 10, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*
> 
> Part Two….
> 
> ...


Thanks, enjoyed it like always.

Diane


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## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*
> 
> Part Two….
> 
> ...


what an adventure!

Oh, and the first book "how not to…" would be a best seller. great title. great experience (now that it's over, right?)


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*
> 
> Part Two….
> 
> ...


What a great trip it has been…I'll miss my weekly crack house fix! Thanks dusty!!


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## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*
> 
> Part Two….
> 
> ...


I think you've said it, Dusty. Getting to the end isn't what life's about - it's the journey - wonderful story, Dusty. Sad it's coming to an end.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*
> 
> Part Two….
> 
> ...


sad but happy-happy, knowing that this journey has come to an end but the lessons not only live on but are being shared with all of us and knowing that a new journey has also begun.

And life goes on.
I ope we get to be a part of further blogs!


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## mot (May 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*
> 
> Part Two….
> 
> ...


This is a great blog series. The trials and tribulations…the happy and sad, the success and failure…just awesome!


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## ErikinColorado (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Addiition part two...Build it and I am moving........*
> 
> Part Two….
> 
> ...


The life lessons in this series are, as Obi put it, Priceless. We should keep this as a permanent part of lumberjocks. if nothing else, we should all print copies of this and store it in our own shops and refer back to it when the going gets tough in our own endeavours. with the exception of one, I don't honestly think I've had any other experinces as transformational as what Dusty has gone through. I agree with Karson, this has indeed been a blessed trip.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

*The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*

In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.

To this truth as I know and understand it, I will let the pictures of 
"This Old Crack House." speak for them selves.

Every piece of furniture was designed and built with my own hands, along with all the decorating, color choices, and room layouts, which are my own creations.

You then can be the judge and come to your own conclusions.

Enough said.

I humbly present to you *This Old Crack House.*

Home to me.

Dusty

*THIS OLD CRACK HOUSE*










*Formal Living Room

**This formal living room serves as a warm and intimate conversation area.
*
This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak



















*Main Kitchen (first of three kitchens)
*
*The main kitchen is spacious, open and vibrant. The kitchen is open to the formal dining room and is a joy to entertain guests.*

This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak



















*Formal Dining Room
*
*This hand built formal dining room table and chairs serves as the center point for sit down dining when entertaining guests. The solid oak mission table is complemented by the almost eight foot tall formal dining room hutch.*

This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/1907 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak










*Formal Mission Hutch*

*This formal mission hutch adds a quiet dignity.

*This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak



















*Formal Front Parlor and Writing Room 
*
*This formal parlor that also serves as my writing room which shares common space and access to the formal library, and study. The grandfather mission stained glass clock is a one of a kind. I designed and built the clock, including the stain glass work myself.*

This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak



















*Formal Stained Glass Credenza*

*This simple formal stained glass credenza provides not only storage but accent for the parlor writing room.
*

This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak



















*Formal Study and Library*

*The formal library and study is nestled between the formal parlor and butler barbecue deck kitchen. The hand made stained glass ceiling is a one of a kind award wining creation, which provides an atmosphere of serenity to read or study.*

*The following two piece mission formal stained glass hutch adds to the harmony of the formal library.*










This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak










!









*This five foot stained glass window is the main window in the formal library. This lead window is designed; hand painted and has a crown of thorns that protrudes from the glass.
*










*Causal Butler Kitchen / Deck Barbecue Kitchen (second of three kitchens)
*

*This butler kitchen serves the patio and outside deck, fire pit and hot tub area.*

This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak










*Backyard Patio Deck and Hot Tub and Fire Pit
*
*The Causal Butler Kitchen serves this area. The door on the deck opens directly to the butler kitchen. *

This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak










*This Old Crack House Back Yard *

*Ample room in the back yard for the basset hounds to roam.
*

This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak










*Mother in Law Kitchen (lower level - three of three kitchens)

**This mother in law kitchen adjoins and serves the lover level great room home theater. It also has a ¾ l private bathroom and future sauna that accompanies the full kitchen.
*
This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak










*Great Room Home Theater

**This home theater with surround sound and special lighting effects alone with the leather reclining over sized furniture and 62 inch HD TV is a perfect place to relax. It is located next to the mother in law kitchen for all of our beverage and snack needs.

*This Old Crack House Copyright 07/15/2007 All Rights Reserved D. Jerzak

This Old Crack House Features

Three Full and Functional Kitchens, Four and Half stall Garage,

Main kitchen, 
Mother In Law Kitchen, Two Decks, 
Butler Patio Kitchen, 
30×26 shop 12 foot ceilings,
Two Dining Rooms,
One Formal, Hot tub and patio area, 
One sit down causal,
Formal parlor,
Five Bedrooms with Five Walk in closets , 
Two master bedrooms, Formal Library,

Five Bathrooms, Stained Glass Ceiling,

123 Stained Glass windows, 143 pieces of hand made furniture and cabinets,

12 Free Standing Stained Glass Windows, Hardwood Floors and Restored Mission Trim and Woodwork


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## FMOmbr (Mar 21, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Dusty - Simply Unbelievable. Absolutely fantastic work. And how long did the entire project take you? I assume that you have taken residence in the house now?


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


FmOMbr,

Thank you.

Yes I live in the house now.

I am writing a encore chapter which I will cover how long it took me and several other questions I have been 
asked during my writing of this blog.

The short answer to your question is about two years.

Of course I have a lot of other projects I would like to do and add to "This Old Crack House".

These projects never end, all woodworkers know and accept this. The problem is to get others to go along with our thinking.

Make sawdust.

I hope to write about some of these, like the tree house for my peacock who's name is Tasha and is not the best of friend with my basset hounds.


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## dennis (Aug 3, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Truly inspiring…the house, the furniture, the stained glass, you, your story…wow. I've related because I'm in the middle of a similar story with my mud hut. It's half done and I'm low on funds, time, and energy, but thanks to you not faith!!!! I hate to see it end.
So it is OK with me if you take off a week or so before starting your stained glass blog.

Thanks


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Dusty It has been a pleasure to ride along with you on this trip - Journey.

The house looks great except. You need a couple of Mission stools in the third kitchen. Those look out of place.

Thanks for your memories.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


KARSON,

Thank you.

Your so right.

You found the only furniture that I didn't build.

They were gifts from a friend. I don't have the heart to store them because he is so proud that I have them in the house.

Oh well whats the harm.


----------



## scottb (Jul 21, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Absolutely fantastic. Perfect in fact.

Can't let my wife read this, only look at the pictures. You've accomplished more in 2 years than many people have done in a lifetime. (She'll start to get impatient with my 5+ years on this house - I'll step it up if she lets me have three kitchens though)

You also dove in and made it work on a wing and a prayer, while others who'd manage to get past the nay-sayers would still be making lists of where to begin -or when they should have knocked it down and pitched a tent (or made a nice playground for the neighborhood.

Bravo!


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## Obi (Oct 19, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


What a ride this has been. Have you ever thought about calling the people you bought it from and having them stop by for tea?


----------



## Treefarmer (Mar 19, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


An amazing transformation Dusty. I need to share your story with my daughter and son-in-law. He is a carpenter and they just bought their own former crack house. He has very lofty ideas and I don't think I give him enough credit. It's truly an amazing story you've told. Inspiring to say the least.

Thanks for sharing with us.


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## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Jaw-dropping magnificent.

And then I think back to that first chapter of this journey and remember how far you have come. Astounding

Two years? And here I sit with my handful of projects under my hat. Ha. I guess if I really want to do this I should be building and building and building. In two years I could have a house built and renovated. Ha. I don't think so. You are a miracle worker.

Oh, and do you have TIME to entertain or sit down and enjoy that big screen tv??

Well done, Dusty. Well done. You are an inspiration and an Angel.


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## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Well, he's certainly changed the neighborhood.

Awesome!


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## Greg3G (Mar 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Who says one man cant chanage the world. You have certainly have made a impact, both online and in your neighborhood. You have set a example for all of us to follow.

Great Job, Love the house, really love the furnishings, and I see you got the hot tub after all.

Take care and God Bless


----------



## DanLyke (Feb 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Wow, what a payoff. Love the whole thing, but the detail of that heron stained glass piece in the dining room really caught my eye, and the main kitchen is a layout that I've been toying with wanting.

On that front, how do you find the distance between the stove and the refrigerator in the main kitchen? All the design books say "put 'em in a triangle", but I can't figure out a layout I think I'd like if I did that, and I like the layout you've got.


----------



## VTWoody (Apr 17, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Wow. Wow. And again, WOW. I can only aspire to that level of quality and quantity. Can we see the inside of the new shop (or did I miss pictures of that in an earlier post?) I want to marvel at more of your work.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Scotb,

Your the only one who has to answer to a time table. I pushed because I had to. I have said it before but it is worth repeating.

Enjoy the journey.

Take it all in, soon enough it will be over.

I will also so there were many times I thought "wheres the bull dozer".

As far as the nay-sayers.

Essential.

I couldn't of did this house with out them.

I wouldn't have any one pushing me and telling me I couldn't do something.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Obi,

Most of the former owners are still in jail. I have invited the one I bought it from but she didn't want to see it.

She said it would bring back bad memory's.

Two of the daughters of the original owners have toured it.

They were touched and great ful I had restored there fathers dream.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Bob Babcock,

I only understand to well the feeling of not giving some one enough credit.

The balance required between destroying some ones dreams or vision and being a realist and grounded in reality is razor thin.

I have had several people go through my home and get inspired and excited about there own home and prospects.

All I can do is listen. Offer assistance or advice only when they seek it from me.

Remain encouraging.

Try never to be judgmental and support the person with out regard to the dream.

This is no easy I admit.

However it is easier for me to see some one fall short or even struggle than for them never to risk or try something and to feel crushed or defeated.

Most of us can work out of our troubles and actually do well under stress.

Few of us do well with " I wish I would of…. or what later we come to define as ….REGRETS


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


VTWoody,

Thank you.

The shop is very simple. I think all the pictures are still posted in my shop section of this web site.

I however will be posting new pictures very soon.

I have had requests for more pictures of the house and shop. I plan on writing a Encore Chapter and doing some of these things along with wraping ups some loose ends and several questions I have received over the blog seris that I haven't been able to answer or cover in the story.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Dennis Mitchell,

I only know to well what you are going through.

I won't or can't say anything that would be of much help.

I will however tell you…I understand.

Enough said.

I also believe in you.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Dan Lyke

Quote

"On that front, how do you find the distance between the stove and the refrigerator in the main kitchen? All the design books say "put 'em in a triangle", but I can't figure out a layout I think I'd like if I did that, and I like the layout you've got."

I know that all the design books say that. My issue with there answer is just that… "every one does it" and it may not be for everyone. It never worked for me. It is a guide line not a law. It is a starting point.

I think you answered your own question. " I can't figure out a layout I think I'd like if I did that, .... then don't do it.

Do what you want and like.

Now to answer the general question.

Of course it depends on space and how much you have. Certainly a good guide line is a triangle. However I have always felt that should be around the sink not the stove or ref. If you think about it your more likely to use over and over in short periods the sink than the stove or ref. You tend to do a lot of prep and then either put something in the stove or get what you need out of the ref.

I have always designed around the sink. I also when ever I can have two sinks in my kitchens like I did in the main kitchen. I will go more in depth about this and why in my Encore chapter. I have been asked about this several times.

I will also post a picture so you can see what I did with that space beside the one island sink.

I hope it is helpful.

P.S

One other quick note, I have the dishwasher in the island next to the sink out of the way of the opening door of the stove. There is several reasons besides that I use the island ever day to casual dine that I designed the island the way I have. One big reason I did this was so I could prep food using a portable cutting board and still have a deep sink to clean my veggies ect, while still being able to have my guests sit and face me and allow conservation while I am cooking.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


well thought out. 
oh if only I could make a kitchen that works for me


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


MsDebbiep,

You can.

Now just do it.

Get to work.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


gulp


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## TheGravedigger (May 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Dusty, the whole thing is beyond belief. Without a doubt it's the finest example of single-person craftsmanship I've ever seen. The number of different disciplines that you've mastered to complete this dream project is awe-inspiring. Superlatives fail me so I'll simply say:

Well done.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


TheGravedigger,

I'm touched and moved by your comments.

Thank you.

I think if you would of said "massacred rather than master" you would of been right on.

Trust me I made every mistake possible in each and every one of those crafts. I so so far from an master in all of the crafts and trades.

I have so much to learn.

I guess that is what keeps me interested.


----------



## Don (Dec 18, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


My wife sometimes derides me for spending too much time on the computer. I know she's right, here I am at 4:30am unable to sleep, so visiting my favorite place. No, I'm not at risk of getting her scorn, she's in Vancouver visiting my daughter and grandchildren.

I'd like to have her meet some of you guys and gals, I'm sure that she would agree with me that you all are real special people. But then, I've thought better of it because that would just be making a rod for my own back.

Sure, I'm going to introduce here to a guy who in a few short years has:
- renovated and rebuilt two old house into show-homes, 
- designed and built the high quality furniture that goes in them, 
- rescued a dying neighborhood from decay and crime, 
- looked after ailing neighbors, 
- ducked bullets, 
- settled arguments, and
- sold real estate in complex three-way deals.

Yes - sure, she's going to believe me.

And if I told her that this guy has a physical handicap and holds down a full-time job as well as runs a business that employs a number of people - yep, she will know that I am certifiable.

And if I were somehow to convince her that such a guy exist, what is she going to say about me? How would I convince her that I was not just taking up unnecessary space?

No I'm no fool - I'm not even going to mention that such a guy exists.

*LOL*


----------



## TheGravedigger (May 20, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Dusty, the true master is one who creates beauty IN SPITE of the mistakes. He also never stops learning.


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## Karson (May 9, 2006)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Dusty: i don't know how you have any time to watch your 61" HDTV. It looks like you are always on the go doing something.

Don has seemed to make all of the points that we have come to know and love about you and your dedication.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


good point Don!!! 
pointS. .. a miracle man.. an angel.. ha… figment of your imagination


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## Skinna (Aug 16, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


I was going to make a comment but I really don't think there's anything I can say here that hasn't already been said above… so I'll just say 'very impressive!'

I'm sure you enjoy coming home to a home like this


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## Skinna (Aug 16, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


reading this blog has been quite like what it was about - an absolute epic adventure!


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## Buckskin (Jun 26, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


What an amazing restoration! Ditto what some many others have said. I hope you can hear the applause emanating from Oklahoma!


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Skinna, Buckskin and fellow LumberJocks

Thank you for your kind words.

Yes I really love coming home to this home. I am finally able to take a deep breath and take in all the fruits of the hard work.

It is a joy ever day for me to come home.

I have been so blessed and remain great full.

I is and remains humbling for me.

I am on the verge of doing another full restoration, with another set of entirely different challenges. I am working on the final details of this project and should know in two weeks if it is going to be a go.

I am considering bloging this project also. That is if my true friend *Don,* who has served tireless and sliently as my editor. He has made my dribble readable . If he is willing and is up for another blog I would be humbled to share this experience with all of you.

Dons true tribute and thank you is still not completed and is in the last chapter I am writing of "This Old Crack House." I hope to finish it soon.

I have been so busy with working 80 hours a week time has been short. I also have been working on this new project .

The bloging of this project of course depends on the interest and patience of all my faithful followers who's support and encougeing words and comments made the writing of "This Old Crack House" one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.

Perhaps you would like to take another journey on a another re-hab project with me?

Who knows where or how this one will end.

It hasn't even started yet.

It truly helped me heal and has made all the trials and tribulations worth ever drop of sweat.

I am greatful.

Again thank you all.


----------



## Tangle (Jul 21, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Dusty,
This is an inspiration to all of us. I too am in the middle of rebulding a house. Some times it seems it will never get done. Some times I am tired, some times I am old, and some times I feel crippled. But when I see what you have accomplished I feel like getting up and going on. I did not get to read all of this blog because I wasn't here. Maybe when I have time I will. But I promise that if you do another I will follow it religiously. You interest me, my friend, and so I will study your moves. I wish you good weather and fair wind.
Tom


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## Tangle (Jul 21, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


By the way Dusty, the date on your copyright says "1907". The look is appropriate but I think you mean 2007.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


I am ready to be caught up, once again, in your web of challenges, learning opportunities, and successes.

bring it on

(Hmm 80 hours a week.. I know that I read several times that what you learned thru the process was to enjoy life more and never work long hours ever again. ... brings to mind a quote about "if it walks like a duck… it is a duck"... You are who you are, aren't you, Dusty? I don't think you will ever get work hours down to a reasonable 40 hours / week.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Thos, Angle

Thank you so Much for your kind words.

I wish you luck on you project. I hope you can find time through the journey to take time to enjoy the trip.

I am going to be starting a new project this morning. It will be one of my biggest challenges to date.

Not so much because it is a difficult project, or a historical challenge or a large project.

No, it is because the house has been posted unfit and is considered hazardous and will be condemned if not mold abated.

I raised my hand and bought it.

I quite possibly have lost my mine.

Correction, I have lost my mind.

Regardless, I paid 141,000 to loose my mind.

Time to go to work.

Stay tuned.

Here we go again.

I seem never to learn.

Please feel free to join me on this adventure I will need all the help I can get.

Off I go with my respirator to start the demo of the basement finish.

Wish me luck.


----------



## Tangle (Jul 21, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Good luck Dusty. You're gonna need it.


----------



## MsDebbieP (Jan 4, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


must be a nice piece of land!

best of luck work-a-holic that doesn't learn…haha


----------



## Radish (Apr 11, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


This Old Mold House, the adventure continues! Hurray!


----------



## Sawdust2 (Mar 18, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


And we get to Ask This Mold House!


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Lumberjocks,

Thank you for all your comments.

I have been swamped with my new adventure for a week now.

And what a adventure it has been.

So far the only thing I know for sure is mold belongs on cheese not in a house.

Whew.

I am taking many many pictures and keeping a daily journal.

Stay tuned for "This Old Mold House".

Cheese anyone?


----------



## th0rn (Feb 4, 2008)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Unbelievable story. Just read every chapter in one sitting. Dusty, your perseverance and positive attitude is inspirational, truly. Your saga was linked from Neatorama, here: http://tinyurl.com/2xsc9o

In several places toward the end, you say "I could/should" write a book. To which I mentally responded, "Please do, and I'd gladly buy it!" No kidding man, you have so many different skills and experience in so many different areas, from woodworking, to stained-glass, to remodeling old homes, and on and on and on! There are several "print on demand" online services now, where all you have to do is upload your text, and they'll print and bind single copies as they're ordered. Heck, with a little clean-up of the typos on this saga, you could sell this story, itself!

And given your loss of the use of one hand, your determination and ambition is so impressive. I kid you not, reading your tale has revived my own drive to overcome what are now, in comparison, trivial obstacles and disappointments in my own life. Minuscule, in comparison to the frustrations and set-backs you overcame with courage and plenty of hard work.

Bravo, Man, Bravo! <applause>


----------



## rikkor (Oct 17, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


I was fortunate enough to get a tour of "This Old Crack House" a couple of weeks ago. I am here to tell you the pictures do not tell the whole story. This is a work of art throughout. There must be about a bazillion man-hours of labor-every square inch is a detail. And Dusty does details.


----------



## Blake (Oct 17, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Incredible! Wish I knew what else to say.


----------



## dalec (Oct 3, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


You have transformed nearly condemned house into an attractive home filled with beautiful furniture and detail.

Congratulations on its completion and thanks for sharing your work with all of us.

Dalec


----------



## Russel (Aug 13, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Absolutely beautiful work Dusty. If like rikkor says that the pictures are only part, then I cannot imagine what to say other than, it's beautiful.


----------



## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


thOrn,

Your gracious comments are very humbling.

Thank you!

I simply must give credit where credit is due. My good friend *Don*, did all the editing for "This Old Crack House".

With out his skill and patience my written dribble would of been like sawdust on a cement floor.

Worthless!

He made my ramblings readable.

I simply told my story, one that is repeated every day by many others who have life a lot worse than me.

These individuals move quietly forward, without notice , or attention drawn to their lives.

No fan fare, no gracious comments and certainly a lot less, if any; support, from a community like Lumberjocks.

It has been my honor and pleasure to share my simple journey with all of you.

I await eagerly as our fellow Lumberjocks adventures, projects and experiences , along with their stories unfold for us in this great community.


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## janice (Jan 8, 2009)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Wow! That is just amazing. I can't say anthing better than anyone else has already said. You must be a very busy person. Your house is gorgeous! The work you do is amazing.


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## Dusty (Jan 8, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Janice,

Thank you so much for the kind comments.

I have been very busy this last year and unable to spend hardly any time posting or sharing in my favorite pastime and web site Lumberjocks.

I have finished a one year advanced apprenticeship working on specialty stained glass Tiffany lamps. In addition to the glass work I have been building my own stands and even doing some custom metal foundry work with brass and bronze.

I have also completed another rehab project and added a "guest cottage " to This Old Crack House."

I have been reassigned permanently back to my home state as a Investigator and Officer for Mortgage Fraud and crimes task force.

Certainly, this has been a busy 16 months. I look forward to coming back to Lumberjocks.

Dusty


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## matt1970 (Mar 28, 2007)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


you are so amazing…


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## a1Jim (Aug 9, 2008)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


Drop dead gorgeous


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## SCOTSMAN (Aug 1, 2008)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


why is it called a crackhouse? I don't understand Alistair


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## Holt (Mar 15, 2011)

Dusty said:


> *The Final Chapter... You cant judge a blog by its cover...Is a picture worth a thousand words?*
> 
> In the end, I feel very strong that we won't, nor should be; remembered or judged for our words, but rather the sum total of our actions and deeds.
> 
> ...


I was backing through the projects pages and ran across some of your furniture projects and references to this blog. The title made it sound something like my new project so I had to check it out. After reading the first entry it turns out our projects are similar. In my case it's This Old Meth house. We picked up the house and the 12 acres it sits on as a foreclosure. The druggies sure did a number on it. But, the bank had the treatment teams detox the house and we're doing a total gut, drywall, wiring, plumbing, HVAC, pretty much everything.

I'm looking forward to reading through your blog entries. Hope I can get half the results you have!


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