So close, yet so far

As dwelling gains personality, deadlines from bank, county threaten dream finish

By Jay Dedrick, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)

Published December 3, 2005 at midnight

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Photo by Ellen Jaskol © The Rocky

Tina Galgon-Herr cuddles with her 5-month-old daughter, Talia, on May 25. Christopher Herr expects to apply two more coats of stain before the floor achieves the desired look. This is the view of the future kitchen and dining room as seen from the upstairs balcony.

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Tina Galgon-Herr would love to be spending every day with her baby, but, like the song goes, money changes everything.

Tina returned to work in March, about three months after the birth of daughter Talia. She began with two 12-hour shifts a week at Boulder Community Hospital, where she's a nurse in the Intensive Care Unit.

"I do miss Talia," she says, "but it's good to be back to work. And Christopher's getting to spend more time with her."

On a Saturday in mid-April, Tina's husband, Christopher Herr, is spending that father-daughter time at his office on Boulder's Pearl Street Mall. He and his partner, Brad Tomecek, established their architecture business, Studio H:T, about two years ago, and they're meeting today to talk long-term goals. Brad's wife, Christa, will be on hand with business advice.

The partners have designed several houses for Cornerstone, a Longmont builder-developer that provides Christopher and Brad with their bread-and-butter work. Also on their plate: a 10,000-square-foot custom residence in the planning stages. Besides designing million-dollar homes, their commercial work includes a yoga studio and a sushi restaurant.

Christopher and Brad hope to grow into a firm of 10 to 12 staffers tackling between six and eight projects at a time. At present, the staff of four works on three or four projects at a time.

Christopher understandably is preoccupied with his own project, a $500,000 custom home that he and Brad designed. Construction slowly moves toward completion in the foothills north of Boulder.

"We owe on taxes, so it's good Tina can get the work," Christopher says. Spending several hundred dollars on a replacement clutch for one of their cars came at a bad time, too. "I'm a little nervous, because Tina's paychecks are a little smaller now than when she was working full time."

Their banker, Mario Masciola, has asked to see Tina's recent pay stubs, as well as the couple's 2004 tax returns. The latest numbers could affect the amount of mortgage they qualify for. Given that building the house is expected to exhaust the $500,000 construction loan, it's vital that their qualifications don't slip.

The couple refinanced their Boulder condo, which they plan to hold onto. Selling it now at market price would bring less than what they paid for it, so they'll rent it, using the income to cover the mortgage.

"I'm nervous because there are a lot of condos for rent on the market," Christopher says. He fears it will be tough to find a renter. He already has enough anxiety over taking on a house payment that will be more than double the current monthly condo payment.

The idea of not having a renter at the condo while paying on both homes? "It's scary."

A grand entrance

On a Friday night in May, a stack of pizzas and a 12-pack of beer are bait at a painting party that's attracted five friends of Christopher and Tina's.

They're among the first guests to open the front door — by itself as striking and unique as the home. At nearly 11 feet tall and almost 4 feet wide, it dwarfs the typical 7-foot threshold.

The door's steel frame consists of overlapping rectangles, echoing the home's design. The block shapes hug offset inlays of clear glass and ribbed plastic, producing a glowing light-box effect.

It opens into an entryway wall splashed with bold reds and oranges. The glass-tile mosaic faces the kitchen, where cabinet doors are a bold, shiny red.

Upstairs, the master bedroom is gaining color of its own, a gleaming coat of yellow paint. Brad is taking a roller to the soffit when Tina walks in.

"Ooh, that looks nice! That is really cool! Brad, thank you so much for helping us."

Brad smiles, while Christopher grimaces. He's twisting a screwdriver into one of the switchplates in the room. "Electricians never make outlets level!" he complains. "Why can't they make them level?"

Later, he climbs onto a chair to reach a fire-sprinkler head, where he places a cover piece.

"Psssssshhhhhh!"

The sudden sound isn't caused by the sprinkler, but voiced by Brad. His partner is not amused.

"You know," Christopher says, "there are some jokes that are funny . . ."

This must not be one of them.

Growing frustration

Christopher and Brad remain close friends, but the Box House has tested their partnership.

"We'll be in conversation," Brad says, "and he'll just fade: 'What were we talking about?' Christopher is a people-pleaser, and in his situation right now, it's, 'Where's the next fire?' "

Besides spending most after-work hours and weekends on odd jobs at the house — to keep finishing costs down — Christopher often is pulled away during the week to give direction to builders. Brad recently grew frustrated enough to broach the issue with his buddy.

"I said, 'Sometimes it's like you're not available, even when you're in the office,' " Brad says. "What I'm learning is that this is a relationship, just like a marriage. This isn't a down; it's just an adjustment. I'm not mad. I'm just trying to understand."

"Brad's definitely shouldering more of the load than is his fair share at this point," Christopher says.

"I'm trying to counterbalance at the office," Brad says. "Obviously, it's challenging for Christopher."

Brad's also feeling the separation that any architect undergoes toward the end of a project. While he and Christopher designed the home together, it's Christopher's family who will live here.

"I was heavily involved in the beginning, and now it's getting down to crunch time," Brad says. "These are the decisions I would expect homeowners to be making, like paint color."

Tina says Christopher's tension has rubbed off on her, too.

"Since my husband has been a little nervous this past week, it makes me nervous. We're sweating bullets for sure — see me having a beer?

"It's stressful, but at night, when Christopher comes home late, Talia puts things in perspective for us. Things are going to work out. If we have to ask the bank for an extension, we will."

Should they need to approach their banker, he'll be surprisingly handy.

Loan officer lends a hand

In a ball cap, denim shirt and blue jeans, Mario Masciola isn't dressed for the office. The residential loan officer at First National Bank of Colorado has swapped a calculator for a sanding block on a Sunday in mid-May, and he's on his knees to sand the walls of the downstairs bathroom.

"I don't do this all the time — I'm not out here as a banker today," he says. "I'm out here as a friend. I just want to see them get it done."

Final building inspections are going well, but the drop-dead date on the nine-month construction loan is days away, and the appraiser's visit a few days ago has led to another scramble. Christopher expected to finish the detached, 300-square-foot studio space later, after moving in at the end of the month. The appraiser expected it to already be finished.

Unless the space is finished, the appraiser can't account for it in the total home value. And if the home value drops, the bank would have to drop the amount of the mortgage loan — which would fall short of paying off the construction loan. It's a financial hardship Christopher and Tina can't bear to consider.

Christopher arrives at the house site in late morning, dropping in on the crew that's racing to string electrical wiring throughout the studio.

"This'll be an everything space — French horn practicing, guests sleeping," Christopher tells them. Someone comments on Christopher's locating his music room in the space detached from the main house. "You haven't heard my playing," he jokes. "Then you'd understand why."

Christopher chats with Mario, thanking him for his help. The homeowner is encouraged by the thought of having the certificate of occupancy in hand later in the week.

Says Mario, "I see light at the end of the tunnel."

Entertaining their options

Christopher rubs his eyes and gazes into the light. The eyestrain has nothing to do with the bank of TVs he faces. After all, he and Tina just arrived at the Soundtrack/Ultimate Electronics store in Boulder and have yet to begin choosing a set to entertain them at the new house.

"I'm worked!" Christopher says, hardly approaching the after-dinner shopping trip with wide-eyed enthusiasm. He stifles a yawn. "I'm just burned." And he is, literally; the pink cast to his skin reflects the time spent outside on an unseasonably hot Saturday in May. Tina scolds him for not using sunscreen.

He began the day by driving to Westminster to borrow a pickup. Then he drove to Sugarloaf to pick up five Ponderosa pines from friends and landowners who take part in the Forest Service's thinning program. He hauled the trees to the house site and planted them. Now it's time to think about home entertainment.

"We designed the house for a flat-panel TV," says Christopher, who compares plasma with LCD before deciding on the latter. "They use less energy and give off less heat." The 32-inch screen will be mounted in the great room, the centerpiece of a wall otherwise filled with cabinets.

The store's sights and sounds are fun, but the Herrs seem focused elsewhere. They're happy to have found a renter for their condo, but they're still awaiting the certificate of occupancy. It's required for the loan closing — just four days away.

A devastating phone call

On May 25, Christopher receives a call at the office. The loan closing set for a few hours from now is called off. There's a problem.

Early drawings of the home site showed a more extensive retaining wall, a concrete structure designed to keep land on the steep slope from sliding down onto the driveway and the hill and street below. Christopher and builder James Casanova altered those plans during construction, and county planners, having inspected the site, aren't satisfied.

Late in the afternoon, Christopher is at the home site to confer with James. Christopher was just here last night applying the first of three coats of stain to the concrete floors throughout the house, one of countless do-it-yourself projects he's completed during construction.

"The county puts disclaimers on everything it does — they can change their mind at any time," says Christopher, rubbing his brow. Because the county delayed granting the certificate of occupancy, the legal document the bank is requiring for the loan closing, Mario had to postpone.

"I told Mario I felt like I'm in a bumper-car ride — but I don't have a car," Christopher says. "This could cost me a lot of money, a lot of time, a higher interest rate on the loan."

The worst part, Christopher says, is not knowing exactly what the county wants. He can't afford to build the retention wall indicated in the plans.

"We just spent $4,000 to put up the retaining wall by the garage. We spent about $900 for boulders along the drive. I'm hoping we can do the rest (of the land retention) with boulders, too. The worst-case scenario is that we'd have to pay several thousand dollars.

"But we're basically out of money."

And — with a renter ready to move into the condo where the Herrs now live, in less than a week — they're quickly running out of time.

dedrickj@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-892-5484

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