| |
 |
|
|
Science Forum Index » Environment Forum » Misery from March storm slowly melting for family
Page 1 of 1
|
| Author |
Message |
| Dr. Convection |
 Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2003 1:12 pm |
|
|
|
Guest
|
From:
http://www.denverpost.com/Stories/0,1413,36~53~1844101,00.html
Article Published: Sunday, December 21, 2003
Misery from March storm slowly melting for family
By Kevin Simpson
Denver Post Staff Writer
Guadalupe Vargas stands on the sidewalk facing his front yard, hands stuffed
into coat pockets against a stinging winter wind, and tries to imagine the
flowers.
"Right here in front," he says. "Real nice roses."
He points through the chain- link fence to a spot where dirt falls away from
the concrete and slopes down several feet to the beginnings of a new
foundation. The house that used to be here, the one he bought nearly 30
years ago, collapsed under the weight of last March's historic snowstorm.
Nine months later, the Vargases stare into a giant hole that extends from
the sidewalk to the back alley. Skeletal beams crisscross the excavation,
marking the first visible signs of progress in the often frustrating ordeal
of reclaiming their home.
About 28,000 claims - many the result of roofs buckled by snow - were part
of $93.3 million in residential damage from the blizzard, according to the
Rocky Mountain Insurance Information Association.
Some families repaired and rebuilt without significant hitches. But Lupe and
Teresa Vargas' story rings familiar to metro-area residents who still relive
the March snowstorm through ongoing battles with insurance companies,
contractors or government bureaucracy.
For the Vargases, the news that the family's insurance coverage wouldn't
begin to replace the West Washington Park bungalow opened a structural and
emotional void. It grew wider after a construction deal went bad and city
zoning issues delayed plans.
Meanwhile, the Vargases - minus most of their personal belongings - lived a
few months with friends before moving in with daughter Laurie Vargas-Short
and her husband.
The ordeal of reconstruction dragged on.
"I think my parents are both faithful people," Laurie Vargas- Short says.
"They tend to be very humble and just be thankful that they have their
lives, instead of asking, 'Why don't we have our house?' My sister and I
learned an incredible lesson in humility from how noble they've been."
Last March, Lupe, 72, and Teresa, 67, and their younger daughter Isaura, 27,
heard the moans of the rooftop beneath the wet, spring snow. But it wasn't
until Lupe opened the front door to answer a neighbor's shouted warning that
the house literally fell down around them.
Had he been standing a foot or two from the door, he might have been crushed
by the collapse. The lights went out, and though their crumbling residence
suddenly put them in serious danger, neither Lupe nor his wife wanted to
leave.
"Both of them were in shock," Isaura recalls, "so I said, 'We have to get
out of here.' Both of them were kind of wanting to go down with the house. I
had to let them know it wasn't safe."
Isaura finally persuaded them to scramble out the back of the house, where
firefighters helped them to safety.
"It was a miracle they got out alive," says Laurie.
But then some harsh financial realities sank in. Lupe, who worked jobs as a
machine operator, janitor and lawn care worker to retire his mortgage by
1990, hadn't kept his homeowner's insurance in line with current replacement
costs.
The home was insured for $121,000. Estimates to rebuild ran more than double
that amount.
Laurie and Isaura launched "Raisin' the Roof," a fundraising effort to at
least begin to bridge the financial gap so their parents wouldn't have to
deplete retirement assets. They raised $5,100 with one event through Our
Lady of Guadalupe Catholic Church and a couple thousand more from private
donations.
They contacted several contractors for bids on rebuilding, but those hovered
near $300,000 - well beyond the family's budget. Then another contractor
approached the family, Laurie says, and offered to rebuild for cost.
Everyone got excited. The Vargases signed a contract and put down a $15,000
deposit.
Memories demolished
But before any rebuilding could be done, the old house had to be demolished.
Saying goodbye proved hard.
Isaura remembered the celebrations of a lifetime - the anniversaries,
graduations, holidays and birthdays that would begin in the morning with a
serenade by her father's mariachi band.
"At least when you drove by the house, even though it was falling apart, it
was still our house, still the house my sister and I grew up in," Laurie
says. "At least it was there, some sense of identity."
Protected by temporary structural supports, a restoration company had one
hour to comb the house for salvageable items.
Melting snow had seeped into the house, pooling several inches deep and
requiring demolition people to drill holes in the main floor to drain water.
Wedding pictures, photos of the girls growing up and statues of the saints
became flotsam in the cold, smelly stew.
The dining room table, where family gathered for special occasions, had been
splintered by a falling chandelier. Broken dishes littered the wreckage and
mingled with insulation from the walls and ceiling.
The restoration people took what they could find and began the long process
of drying and refurbishing. The Vargases don't know yet exactly what has
been salvaged or what might be worth keeping. The company has boxed their
belongings and put them in storage.
The demolition contractor advised the family to stay away, but Lupe insisted
on witnessing the bitter end. Teresa stood by his side, and Laurie and
Isaura wouldn't let them go it alone. They all watched from across the
street as the heavy equipment dismantled their past.
For the daughters, the worst part wasn't watching the house reduced to
rubble - it was hearing it. Isaura heard every snap of the thick cherry-wood
beams. Laurie recognized the shattering mirror from her mother's built-in
china cabinet
"There's that superstition about breaking mirrors," Laurie says. "All the
glass went everywhere; you could hear that. The cabinet was old, but it
actually withstood the collapse until the crane brought it down."
The cabinet held memories. Teresa used to hide candy in the drawers, knowing
full well that her daughters would find it. For a time, a black-and-white TV
leaned against the cabinet, and Laurie and Isaura would sit on the floor and
watch "Sesame Street."
"That's how we learned to speak English," Laurie says.
Work begins on new home
The May demolition had one saving grace - the promise of construction in
June. But that turned into a fiasco, Laurie says, after a dispute with the
contractor that appears headed for litigation.
"The summer was really long," she says. "Those were the months my folks had
anticipated watching the house be built. But they had to start at ground
zero again."
Niwot-based architect Anne Olson, who had immediately felt an emotional
connection with the Vargases, regrouped after the troubles with the first
contractor and sought another option.
"Their story," she says of the family, "is one that grabs your heart."
Having done work for longtime Colorado homebuilder Writer Homes, Olson asked
the company if it could help.
Although building a single home in an established neighborhood would be a
departure from its development-centered business, Writer donated its own
costs associated with rebuilding the Vargases' home. Then it persuaded
subcontractors and suppliers to pitch in.
Construction manager Mike Wollner says the finished project will come in at
about half the cost reflected by the original bids.
"Doing it," he says, "just seemed like the right thing to do."
The design includes handicapped-accessible doors and main- floor amenities
so Teresa, who walks with a cane due to a serious ankle injury, can more
easily navigate the home. Although the special woodworking touches of the
circa-1916 house couldn't be duplicated on a budget, Olson substituted a
more open design with drywall arches in the 2,000-square- foot space.
One custom feature: The house will have extra space in the front yard, so
Lupe can once again plant his roses.
The plans also call for a garage - something the original home never had.
But then one more problem surfaced. The city zoning board rejected the
design because the garage consumed required open space on the property.
Olson redrew the plans without a garage, so builders could at least get
started on the foundation. Meanwhile, the Vargases collected signatures of
support from their West Washington Park neighbors so they could seek a
variance that would permit the garage.
"By the grace of God and the help of the architect, hopefully the city will
approve the plans," Laurie says. "Then we'll get permits and start framing
the house in January. If that's the case, we hope to bring our parents home
for the summer."
The day after she says this, the family's long, uphill road begins to level.
At a meeting of the Board of Adjustment, which will decide whether to grant
the zoning variance, the Vargases plead their case to sympathetic ears.
Only minutes after the hearing begins, their appeal is granted without
opposition. It's the first thing that has gone smoothly, without some
unexpected hitch, since the snow fell last spring.
Laurie arranges everyone in the hallway for a group photo - her parents, her
sister, architect Olson, construction supervisor Wollner.
Then she prompts a smile.
"Say 'Casa Vargas!"' |
|
|
| Back to top |
|
| Vendicar Decarian |
| Posted: Sun Dec 21, 2003 5:37 pm |
|
|
|
Guest
|
"Dr. Convection" <Convection@convection.net> wrote in message
news:Hq9BwD.A7H@campus-news-reading.utoronto.ca...
Quote: Article Published: Sunday, December 21, 2003
Misery from March storm slowly melting for family
Thanx for the weathre report Dr.
Here is another weather headline.
Near record Warmpth blankets the Central U.S. |
|
|
| Back to top |
|
| |
|
Page 1 of 1
All times are GMT - 5 Hours
The time now is Tue Oct 07, 2008 11:34 pm
|
|