Go to the mobile version of this Web site.

Login | Contact Us | Site Map | Paid archives | Electronic edition | Subscription Questions | Extras

Moving moments

With packing underway, Herrs must deal with red tape

By Jay Dedrick, Rocky Mountain News (Contact)

Published December 10, 2005 at midnight

Text size  
Frustrated after the county denied a certificate of occupancy for his new home, Christopher Herr stands outside the house. The steepness of the land is what concerns Boulder County planners; they object to the retention system along the driveway. Christopher worries that any fixes could cost a lot of time and money.

Photo by Ellen Jaskol © The Rocky

Frustrated after the county denied a certificate of occupancy for his new home, Christopher Herr stands outside the house. The steepness of the land is what concerns Boulder County planners; they object to the retention system along the driveway. Christopher worries that any fixes could cost a lot of time and money.

Related Links

Related Stories

More Home & Garden

More stories »

On the medicine-cabinet mirror where the husband shaves and the wife dabs on makeup, an affirmation is neatly written in green Crayola marker:

We are abundant!

Decorated with hearts and dollar signs, it's the first message Christopher Herr and Tina Galgon-Herr see on these last mornings in their Boulder condominium. Their friend Katlen Smith wrote it there to provide encouragement during the stressful approach to moving day, when the family will relocate to the custom home that Christopher co-designed with partner Brad Tomecek.

Six days remain in May 2005, nearly 9 1/2 months since construction began on the modern, industrial-style structure in the foothills north of town. Christopher, Tina and their 5-month-old daughter, Talia, are ready for the move. Boulder County isn't.

Tina drives to the house site with Talia just after 6 p.m., delivering supper for Christopher from the Boulder Farmers' Market. The county just withheld the certificate of occupancy the Herrs need for the mortgage closing, which had to be canceled today.

"What does the county want?" Tina asks.

"I have no idea," he says. "They say the retention along the driveway isn't safe."

"How is this not safe?" she asks.

"I don't know that either," says Christopher, offering Talia a finger to chew on.

"I slept well last night, but our baby didn't," Tina says. "I wonder if she got some of our nervous energy."

They hope to move most of their belongings into the house this weekend, even if they can't legally stay until they have the certificate of occupancy in hand.

"I called your mom today," Tina says. "She said her thoughts . . ."

". . . and prayers are still with us," Christopher says.

"I really trust that it's going to work out. How do you feel?" Tina asks.

"I think that I stopped feeling."

He medicates his numbness by retreating into the house, where, after finishing his sandwich, he begins applying more coats of stain to the concrete floor. It's gaining a mottled texture that Christopher finds warm and visually interesting.

"I still think everything is going to be fine," Tina says. "Maybe I'm being oblivious."

"Hopefully," Christopher says, "you're being intuitive."

Rocks and a hard place

The next morning, Christopher is huddling with builder James Casanova at the house site. Staffers from the Boulder County planning department are due to arrive shortly to explain their objection to the retention system along the driveway. James cautions Christopher not to appear defensive.

"We want to show them that we understand they want this to be safe and we want to cooperate," James says quietly. "We want to know what we need to do to make them happy."

Christopher's fear is that the county will insist on extra cast-in-place concrete walls along the driveway, like the one that hugs the top of the driveway near the house. Besides a frustrating delay that could postpone financing - and result in a steeper interest rate and higher payments - such a project could add $10,000 in construction costs.

Don Ash, the civil engineer who worked with Christopher and James on the project, arrives shortly before the trio of Boulder County planners. As architect and builder make their case, the planners kick at some of the dirt along the driveway cut. One takes out a tape measure and camera; another takes notes. They explain the county's concerns about keeping the land on the steep slope stable and minimizing long-term erosion.

Christopher stresses that his wallet will take a serious hit if the home's certificate of occupancy is stalled any longer. The planners tell him they don't want to delay his - or anyone's - plans.

After an hour of discussion, the group breaks. They've reached a compromise calling for additional boulders along the drive and a small concrete-block wall. Christopher's cost estimate: $3,000 to $4,000.

"It feels reasonable to me," Christopher says. "Now we're on the same page."

Christopher and James rush to execute a verbal and visual description of the plan to submit to the county. It has to be accompanied by a check for the estimated cost of the project - money that the county holds in escrow and returns once the finished project earns approval. The work can take place after the move-in.

And with the certificate of occupancy promised on Tuesday, mortgage closing is a go for that day, too.

The move is on.

Boxes for the Box House

Many folks invite their friends and family over on Memorial Day weekend for a cookout. Iced tea and hot dogs. Maybe a softball game.

Christopher has asked them over on Saturday to help him move.

"You do whatever you have to do for friends," says Gina Preston. She and husband Andrew are among the helping hands.

Christopher can use all the help he can get. Tina committed to working at her nursing job all weekend. "That was a month ago," she says. "I thought, 'Sure - we should be moved by then!' "

Christopher has been up since 6 o'clock, spraying the final coat of sealer onto the concrete floor at the house; it's a chore he didn't have time for the last couple of busy days.

But because the sealant is still drying, nothing can actually be moved into the house. His plan is to stack boxes on one of the outdoor decks and shelter furniture in the garage.

Tina leaves for work just before 9; around 9:30, Christopher carries the first couple of boxes down the two flights of outdoor stairs at the condo complex and begins loading them into the cars and SUVs of friends. The crew of about a dozen joins in, too, some of them helping to pack belongings in the bedroom.

Before long, the room is overflowing with people. With cups of coffee spilling and bagels bouncing on the floor, the eager helpers trip over one another at the bedroom door. Breakfast by Einstein Bros., choreography by the Marx Brothers.

It doesn't take them long to find their footing, though, and after about 90 minutes, all the furniture is loaded. There's room for only a few more boxes on this first run.

"How did you fit all that stuff in this tiny apartment?" Finnius Ingalls, a friend, asks with a chuckle. Christopher shakes his head.

A half-hour later, the caravan is unloading at the house site, with folks stacking boxes on the deck outside the studio - and hoping that today's forecast for afternoon rain proves wrong. Christopher will move the boxes inside later tonight, after the sealant has dried.

"Andrew, Gina, thank you," says Christopher, offering the first of many thanks today. "I owe you - "

"You owe us nothing," Andrew interrupts.

Christopher finishes: " . . . some cervezas."

They laugh. That IOU they'll take.

'Permanent financing'

It's just a piece of paper. But after what he went through to get it, Christopher can't help but smile. Broadly. The certificate of occupancy is in hand.

After spending one last night in their condo, sharing a futon mattress on the floor, the Herrs have arrived at Land America Lawyers Title in Boulder, where they're set to take legal ownership of their dream house. It's the last day of May, and the sun shines brightly.

Tina says she's relieved. Excited. "This is it!"

"They call this permanent financing," Christopher says. "I prefer to think of it as long-term."

They're graduating from a monthly payment of $1,100 on their condo to $2,800 for the house. More than double.

"It's a frightening thing to face that kind of a payment every month," Christopher acknowledges. "The worst-case scenario is that Tina would have to go back to work full time."

"One thing that keeps going through my mind," Tina says, "is, 'We are abundant.' "

The $500,000 construction loan on the home was spent entirely, along with $33,000 of the $40,000 contingency fund. The final value of the home determined by the appraiser: $675,000. It takes into account the prime real estate where Christopher built, land he inherited from his grandparents.

The Herrs' banker, Mario Masciola, and Land America's Barbara Lutz join the family at a conference table. Dozens of signatures follow. In just over a half-hour, they're done.

"Should we be having Champagne courtesy of the bank?" Tina asks. "Hors d'oeuvres?"

"I'll bring it up to the house," Mario says.

Despite the finality of the paperwork, Christopher says it really hasn't sunk in yet. That his creation is real. That it's the house they own.

"Tina and I are just exhausted," he says. "We moved this weekend, Tina worked all weekend. We still have a lot of little things to do. There's been a lot of stress.

"We're not popping Champagne and 'woo-hoo'-ing - yet."

dedrickj@RockyMountainNews.com or 303-892-5484