Very good read....
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CONVERSION EXPERIENCES generally begin with a quest, and for Bob and Jordan Fogal, it began with a quest for comfort. Bob, who works in marketing, wanted a shorter commute to his office. Matters of the home, as usual, were left to his wife, and Jordan had spent months looking for a house—and had rejected many—when at last she found the one: a regal, stucco box in a gated community near downtown Houston. “You could see what a quality piece of work the house was,” Jordan remembers. She liked the 20-foot ceilings, the granite counters in the kitchen, the stainless-steel appliances—all part of the “Tremont Attention to Detail Difference,” according to the builders’ handout. She assumed that since the house was so nicely appointed, it was also soundly built. Seduced by beauty, certain of value, the Fogals bought the home in April 2002 for $368,564, investing nearly everything they had.
The first disappointment came on the day they moved in. Bob Fogal, weary from unpacking, trudged upstairs to relax in his new whirlpool bath. When he got out, he pulled the plug and “all 100 gallons of that water came down through the dining room ceiling, into the light fixtures, down the columns, onto my dining room table and Oriental rugs,” Jordan recalls. “And I just started screaming.”
The Fogals tried to tell themselves it was just an oversight—one unconnected drain—but then more oversights appeared: a portion of yard that turned into a swamp; a section of house that visibly sagged; heating that wasn’t warm enough; a cooling system not cold enough. And always, and most seriously, water coming in from somewhere. Sitting at breakfast, thanks to a window above them that had been installed upside down, the couple sometimes felt the falling rain.
read rest here....
http://www.motherjones.com/news/feature/2005/07/home_sour_home.html
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CONVERSION EXPERIENCES generally begin with a quest, and for Bob and Jordan Fogal, it began with a quest for comfort. Bob, who works in marketing, wanted a shorter commute to his office. Matters of the home, as usual, were left to his wife, and Jordan had spent months looking for a house—and had rejected many—when at last she found the one: a regal, stucco box in a gated community near downtown Houston. “You could see what a quality piece of work the house was,” Jordan remembers. She liked the 20-foot ceilings, the granite counters in the kitchen, the stainless-steel appliances—all part of the “Tremont Attention to Detail Difference,” according to the builders’ handout. She assumed that since the house was so nicely appointed, it was also soundly built. Seduced by beauty, certain of value, the Fogals bought the home in April 2002 for $368,564, investing nearly everything they had.
The first disappointment came on the day they moved in. Bob Fogal, weary from unpacking, trudged upstairs to relax in his new whirlpool bath. When he got out, he pulled the plug and “all 100 gallons of that water came down through the dining room ceiling, into the light fixtures, down the columns, onto my dining room table and Oriental rugs,” Jordan recalls. “And I just started screaming.”
The Fogals tried to tell themselves it was just an oversight—one unconnected drain—but then more oversights appeared: a portion of yard that turned into a swamp; a section of house that visibly sagged; heating that wasn’t warm enough; a cooling system not cold enough. And always, and most seriously, water coming in from somewhere. Sitting at breakfast, thanks to a window above them that had been installed upside down, the couple sometimes felt the falling rain.
read rest here....
http://www.motherjones.com/news/feature/2005/07/home_sour_home.html
