Rebuild the Pink House

Apparently someone’s been getting comfortable in the tarp garage on Basin Rd.

We’ve got a handful of belongings that came out of the house after the fire. Soot covered china, some drenched CDs, and oodles of crispy photos and documents laying out to dry. Mostly things we didn’t know what to do with but couldn’t bear just throwing out.

In the week after the fire we used the tarp garage daily, but over the last month we lost momentum to clean and deal and have only been visiting it once a week or so.

Today we noticed that my trusty ole and partially singed Arcteryx rain coat was missing. Somehow it didn’t burn in the fire but it was too stained and stinky to wear for anything other than digging around the ashes of the house. Also missing were my grandfather’s sodden sooty binoculars.

The minor theft piqued our interest, so Laura and I looked around the tarp garage a bit closer. We found a number of items that weren’t ours! Amongst them a sweater, a canvas bag, a Tasmanian devil t-shirt, and best (or worst) of all some ladies high heeled shoes.

It’s a great tarp garage, and I understand the need to get out of the rain in the middle of the night. But come on people, at least pack out what you pack in and nothing extra.

Tonight we met with a lovely fella who has an excavator and dump truck. If all goes according to plan, he’ll be taking the pink house down on Tuesday the 25th. If you want to get a look at what the burned out remains of the Pink House looks like, this weekend might be your last chance!

Here are some of the logistics we’ve had to work through to get to this point:

• Demolition permit from the city. Check.
• Asbestos test. Passed.
• Personal contents evacuated. Check.
• Metal and stone separated from wood? Check.
• Oil tank drained. Check.
• Cable/telephone wires from pole to house disconnected. Check.
• Metal and rock sorted out from wood so they can go in separate loads. Check.
• Someone willing to carefully excavate so the foundation doesn’t get beat up. Check.
• Someone to do the work in a manner we can afford. Check!

Emotionally, this will be bittersweet.  We will be saying a final heart-wrenching goodbye to the home we lovingly tended for several years and started raising our family in.  We had so many happy memories there.  On the other hand, we have been dealing with a huge weight on our shoulders.  Though the fire was none of our doing, we can’t help feeling responsible for the stinky, messy, hazardous eyesore that neighbors and pedestrians (including us) have to smell and look at on a daily basis.  A sight like that does not make one feel warm and cozy inside – quite the opposite.  As Meadow says, “poor, sad pink house.”

If you want to see what the burned out Pink House looks like. Now’s your chance. Get your pics while it’s still smoldering…

Gina Romero is active in the Anchorage Twitter circle. She interviewed me regarding the fire and Tasty Tweets bake sale.  Her article was published in the Alaska Journal of Commerce:

Anchorage business owners Tweetup to help fire victim

A group of Twitter users in Anchorage has come together to hold a bake sale for the Pink House.  My family and I are completely bowled over by the generosity and kindness of the greater Alaskan community.  Talented local bakers and businesses are donating their time and goods.

Many of the Anchorage Twitter users exchange various recipes. I know because sometimes I tune into their tweets and see pics of the dishes and read comments they post. If you’re in Anchorage on Saturday the 29th and want to taste some of the yummy treats produced by these good hearted social networkers, stop by the Bella Boutique between 1-4PM.

I’ve worked with a lot of lists in my time. But never one quite like this.

The Contents portion of our policy is designed “to replace the things we lost”. To qualify for any of this money we have to provide a list of everything that burned, including description, make, model, age, and how much we paid for it. Allstate’s team will categorize our stuff, depreciate our amounts, add it up, and send us a check for the “actual cash value” (ACV). When I asked our adjuster what the average depreciation percentage is, he could only be evasive and vague. I suspect the total amount will be somewhere in the area of 30-50% less after they depreciate and select the cheapest replacements for us.

Since we rescued only a handful of things, this list will basically contain everything we used to own. It’s a grueling process in which we’re forced to remember each and every precious possession that made up our past life. We made a number of hand written lists while evacuating the charred contents of the house to the dump, and are thumbing through pictures and our mind’s eye to remember it all.

For things like antiques or very expensive items like the electric guitars (ack!), the depreciation will be ridiculous. As explained to me by our Contents Adjuster:

A couch bought in 1975 for $250 and left in plastic for 30 years would depreciate the same as the same couch with heavy wear.

Continuing the analogy, we can take the depreciated check and buy the same couch in the same condition. Let’s say it costs $5,000. Then, armed with that purchase receipt, we go back to Allstate to haggle over the real value of the possession. This process will rinse and repeat until we reach the Contents policy limit, at which point they’ll pay no more.

To track this list we’re using a Google spreadsheet with multiple tabs. This allows us both to edit the file at the same time. So we can sit in the same room and brainstorm together. Each tab holds the list for the rooms and one tab at the front tallys everything up. We’ve programmed the list with our coverage amount, so we know just how insufficient our contents policy is.

So far we’ve entered a quantity of more than 3000 items, are 26% over our policy limit, and still have plenty more to add.

UPDATE: Four months later we’ve entered 4,787 items and are 72% over our policy limit. Finding toddler-less time to work on the list isn’t easy, as is mustering the willpower to trudge on through it. Hopefully we’ll be sending the final list in to Allstate within the next month or so.

UPDATE: According to this depreciation schedule, my initial estimates of depreciation were way off. Looks like most of our items will end up with an ACV of $0. Take children’s clothes for instance. Meadow had a huge collection, but they depreciate at 50% per year, which means anything over two years old will be $0 ACV.

When we purchased the pink house, nearly five years ago, there were a few things that needed fixing. We were able to work with AlaskaUSA Federal Credit Union to get a customized refurbishment loan. We ended up with a $180,000 mortgage with another $30,000 escrow to use for needed repairs. The loan was set at a fixed rate for five years, after which it would become adjustable. At the time our general life plan was to remodel the house for a few years then refinance, re-insure, and setup the place on a longer, fixed loan.

So we spent the last four years using up that $30,000 and then some. On the outside we added a whole new roof, a new chimney stack, replaced a bunch of rotting siding, and gave the whole thing a fresh coat of pink paint (technically, the name of the paint is Ashes of Rose). We replaced four windows with frames including a good amount of work on the front windows (each of which require custom cutting). Inside the house we replaced a large amount of dry rot, did some foundation repair, put in a new toilet, installed a whole new furnace, and extended the breaker box. Upstairs we installed new flooring throughout, new trim, and all new coats of paint. But our main achievement was the completely revamped kitchen. We took out an old unused chimney, rebuilt one entire wall, re-did the ceiling, installed all new electrical, lighting, plumbing, cabinets, counter tops, and appliances (the works).

Remodels were particular in the Pink House due to her 100-year history on a hillside in a rainforest. Those of you with similar homes know there is no such thing as a right angle or straight line. Each piece of trim had to be custom cut, every angle measured and then re-measured. We used a lot of shims when installing the cabinets. There’s also no such thing as “standard”. For example, in order to get the new lazy susan into the house we had to replace the front door. The old door frame was built for tiny miners!

Complicating things even more, many of the interior walls weren’t constructed using studs and drywall, but instead were solid wood. In some places we literally had to carve grooves in the wood for wire conduit and electrical boxes. The picture at right shows one such wall, exposed.

This summer marks the beginning of the fifth year of our fixed loan. On the last day of May I was sanding a piece of trim for the pantry. The piece included a couple custom cutouts for the power box and pantry shelf that were too close to the doorway.

That night the fire next door spread to our house and completely erased all our remodels. Since we hadn’t refinanced, our investment of time sweat and money may as well have never existed. Poof.

Today we received word that the foundation of the pink house is safe to re-build on. We’re not sure how this will effect the long run but it’s nice to know at least something of the structure that was there before will remain.

A few weeks ago we took a break from all the “fire work” and went back to our real jobs. We both have great workplaces that let us be away for a while. Although we both returned to a huge back log to deal with.

The first thing I did back at work was a string of repetitive monotonous tasks. The plain simplicity of a mindless job I could do blindfolded was peaceful and affirming. I realized just how much of a black hole life after the fire has been, wrought with question marks and complicated things to learn at every turn.

It didn’t take long for fire work to take a back burner. Life at real work was a refuge for only a short time and the vital tasks couldn’t be ignored and started rearing their heads, requiring my time and focus in meetings and projects.

As a result we’ve shifted our post-fire efforts into lower, slower gears. Which, since Allstate refuses to do business via any electronic means, turns out to be a suitable pace. This is also suitable for the building schedule of Juneau, which is filled up for the summer and booking for next spring.

And it’s suitable for our hearts and minds, which mostly need the space and time to heal. So our focus at the time is how to organize our project in such a way to maximize our efficiency, move it forward at a respectable clip, and not drive ourselves to outright exhaustion.

Rebuilding a family home and coordinating with insurance, banks, contractors, volunteers, stores, landlord, rental agencies, landfill, excavators, city permits, engineers, ambulance chasers and labs… not to mention still paying bills, getting fed, getting the toddler to play dates and keeping our spirits up… is a full time job. How we’re going to do this in addition to our “real” jobs is going to be quite a feat.

Fortunately we have each other, our family, great friends, and a great community. And as my Grandpa Tom says, we’re both “a couple of really smart kids”.

Yesterday my wife saw this picture on the Juneau section of PetFinder and for a moment was filled with hope that our cat was safe at the humane society.

Unfortunately it looks exactly like our lost cat BeeDee but after close inspection Laura verified it wasn’t.

Many folks have mentioned cats coming back weeks/months after a fire. We’re concerned since we don’t live in the same neighborhood anymore that maybe she’s checking in and never finding us. Another thought that’s crossed my mind is that during the fire she fled downhill into the lovely Juneau neighborhood known as the flats and is being fed by someone down there.

If you can help us keep an eye out for BeeDee, we’d appreciate it. She’s an all black, smallish, cat. Here’s a pic of her and MJ outside the pink house:

(click to enlarge)

Lastnight Laura and I looked through pictures to try to find any taken the day before the fire. The only thing on the camera was this video of Meadow helping me unload the dishwasher in our newly remodeled kitchen. It was taken about three hours before I discovered the fire:

After getting all our ducks in a row with permits and dumpster and muscle, we had an exceptionally touching and productive day on Friday.

25 of the nicest gentlemen from around the country, part of Campus Crusade for Christ, showed up and helped Laura and I (along with friends Doug, Simon, Colin, Sean, and Alex) evacuate the house of all destroyed personal property. We planned out a strategy and once it went into action the guys made short order of the contents of the pink house. Organized fire lines, plenty of good jokes and attitudes, coffee and cookies from Laura’s mom Eileen, and $200 worth of Subway sandwiches from Princess Cruise Lines kept the spirits high and the buckets flowing.

All told we worked for about 5 hours, including an hour long break while Daniel retrieved the full and returned the empty dumpster. All our burned out possessions fit within 40-cubic-yards.

To all our friends and neighbors strolling Basin Rd: I sincerely hope the smell is better! Even though we didn’t start this fire, we’re still oddly embarrased by the sight of the pink house. The Campus guys were great in helping not only with the heavy lifting but clean-up afterwards. We tried to get all loose debris off the street and from around the house. Even so, there may be a few errant scraps.

Here’s a bit of video from the event:

and a gallery of photos:

Pieces started falling into place this week, at least for the first physical phase of demolition.

Now that we’ve retrieved anything from the house we want to salvage, our immediate goal is to remove all destroyed personal property. We think this will help out with the smell on Basin Rd and will definitely make our job easier when time comes for actual demolition of what remains of the structure.

So, after many phone calls and emails and coordination and begging and cajoling and downright great will of our community here’s what I’ve ended up with at the end of this week:

• A permit to use the Juneau city right-of-way across the street
• A demolition permit
• Solicitations of various businesses for donations of various items and services
• A donation from Princess Cruise to feed the work crew via Subway sandwiches
• Assistance from the United Way to help us apply to Waste Management for charitable donation of landfill fees
• Donations of gloves and masks from the community and a box to collect them at Don Abel Building Supply
• A commitment from about 20 College Crusaders for Christ to come and lend muscle power at the house this Friday morning
• A 20-yard dumpster, delivered

Here’s a pic of my new favorite big truck driver, Daniel, delivering the dumpster:

We’re looking forward to getting all of the sooty, sodden, stinky mess out of the house and put to rest in the ground. This will give us some well needed closure and will lessen the temptation for hoodlums to enter the burned out house.

PS: whoever snuck under the “do not cross” tape, into the basement, and stole my small conga. Boo on you!!

Laura spent a good portion of our first day in our rental home getting Meadow’s room all setup. When Meadow saw it, she gave a theatrical gasp and then exclaimed: “It’s so fancy!”

With the help of friends near and far we made sure MJ has some familiar stuff around. Mostly her favorite books and a couple dolls. Turns out, Meadow is handling this surprise transition better than mommy or daddy. She’s able to verbalize matter of factly that “fire wrecked the pink house” and she hasn’t been asking to go home. Perhaps she’s just forgotten them: out of sight out of mind. Or perhaps she was never really that attached to her bike helmet, water bottle, peter rabbit spoon, some of those dollies, or other toys. Perhaps that really wasn’t her favorite vest. Or perhaps she actually knows all those things are gone. Who knows what is really going on inside the head of a soon-to-be three-year-old.

One thing is for certain. She loves pink. And she loves mommy and daddy, because she told me so.

I just received word that the venerable 100+ year old pink house is free of asbestos. This is a *huge* relief as it means we’re that much closer to demolition (and hopeful rebuild). It also means we’ll be saving a good amount of money, since homes with asbestos require special considerations (and costs) when demolishing.

We’re hoping we can remove the debris soon so all you folks strolling Basin Road this summer won’t have to suffer through the smell and eyesore of that sad burned out pink house.