“No, don’t — please STOP!”
The line went dead, and for the first time, I thought, maybe I’ve made a mistake.
I’d been speaking with the first of what would eventually become three project managers overseeing the full gut remodel of our house in Baltimore.
There was no one else to call. Our general contractor — a husband-wife team who had filed for divorce and bankruptcy simultaneously about six months into our remodel — had just quit.
However, our first project manager was confident that she could still get us over the finish line. She didn’t.
When the phone line went dead, she had just announced that she’d found someone to clean our freshly exposed indoor brick wall.
Courtesy of Ryan Cole
The issue was that the cleaner planned to use a power washer, indoors, and our house was a townhome at the top of a hill, with about 20 more townhomes connected below us.
Fortunately, I was able to get our project manager back on the phone before they flooded the block. Unfortunately, that was far from the only misfire our little project suffered.
It’s a project I’d dreamt of for years
As a freelance writer, I have no pension, no 401(k). My plan was to put together a modest portfolio of properties and live off the rental income in retirement. Our former home in Baltimore was to be the first.
Beat up, dated, and untouched since the ’70s, the house needed a deep remodel. I knew the wood paneling and indoor gutter spouts jury-rigged to act as HVAC vents wouldn’t attract renters.
Courtesy of Ryan Cole
My wife thought the remodel was a bad idea, and we should just sell. I, however, wanted a shot at our property portfolio, so we agreed to move forward. In the end, she was right.
The cost of the renovation was initially supposed to be under $100,000. By the end, it had more than doubled, to about $200,000. It took nearly four times as long as we thought. Meanwhile, mortgage payments continued to chip away at our finances.
We had to redo a lot of work
We began the first round of remodeling around the same time we moved out, which was at the start of COVID.
Our first project manager paid out in full to subcontractors, but the work was lacking, and after about nine months and $75,000 in charges, all we’d really accomplished was the demo of the old walls.
Meanwhile, COVID was in full swing and costs soared.
After we lost our first general contractor, the new one had to fix the issues with the previous work. For example, the HVAC was installed wrong and all the ductwork had to be taken out and redone.
Plus, the framing of the walls for hanging drywall was so bad that it was hard to find a right angle. We had to trash it all and buy new lumber — at higher prices.
Lumber in the US had gone from $320 per thousand board-feet in April 2020, to $1,500 a year later, which just so happened to be when we were re-remodeling.
Courtesy of Ryan Cole
Prices for construction materials had also increased an average of 20% compared to the year prior. Our countertops and cabinets alone were nearly $25,000 — the same price we were quoted for an all-in kitchen remodel before COVID.
Wait times also skyrocketed. Our patterned tiles for the entrance and bathrooms either didn’t exist, were sitting on ships, or were never sent — no one could get a straight answer. That held up production about six weeks.
Countertop delivery times went from two weeks to two months. Then, after ours was damaged in transit, we had to wait another four months for a new slab replacement.
It was a struggle to keep workers
Due to a mixture of personal and business issues, two project managers and two general contractors quit.
There were weeks when nothing would happen — either because of delivery delays or labor shortages.
When all was said and done, we’d spent over four years on a remodel that should have taken less than twelve months.
The last nine months of our project were perhaps the worst. At that point, we’d cobbled together enough contractors to complete most of the work, but it proved nearly impossible to find anyone to finish up the last bits.
Thanks to all the delays, our construction permit had expired. No one wanted to apply for a new permit, fearing they could be held responsible for any problems with the work done before they arrived.
The only way we could convince anyone to apply for the new permit was with a full liability waiver, making us responsible for any defects.
Now, finally, our property is producing a nice rental income
Courtesy of Ryan Cole
I don’t spend my days on the phone with contractors anymore. But would we do it again? Never.
I still want to build a small portfolio of properties for rental income for when I retire.
However, we’ll steer clear of properties that need extensive work from here on out.