A little more than two years ago, my wife and I finally took the plunge. After years of renting an apartment and duplex in Overland Park, we decided it was time to buy our own home.
During the process of finding a new home in Topeka, Shana spent hours upon hours searching for the perfect place. Needless to say, I’m grateful to have such a thoughtful, sharp partner to navigate life.
Once we found one we and the kids loved, I got to do the fun part: Negotiate.
Before we got to that part, though, we needed to scour ever inch of the house to determine if it was worth the investment. I also had a hunch that this would provide me with a little leverage in getting the price we wanted.
To accomplish this, we enlisted two of the smartest people we knew to inspect the place: Our fathers. Shana’s dad, Mike, had an even better idea: Bringing along somebody who actually built houses for a living.
As such, we ended up having one guy who constantly worked on his own place (Mike), another who had remodeled virtually every home he’s ever lived in (my dad) and a craftsman who worked as a contractor and built homes for decades (my wife’s cousin-in-law Larry).
On a hot August day in 2017, the trio spent more than an hour looking at every corner of the house. They didn’t find a ton of issues. The house looked sturdy. The foundation was solid. The furnace was new.
There were a few issues. Parts of the walls in the basement were wet, but there was no indication why (we later discovered it was the result of flooding caused by overuse of a ground drain, the lack of a sump pump and some minor cracks in the basement walls). The garages were not in good shape, but useable. It needed some electrical work, among a handful of other minor fixes.
All three agreed that the house was worth the investment, if we got it at the right price. They didn’t tell the realtor that, of course. A few weeks later, the realtor said he’d never seen anybody inspect a home as closely as Dad, Mike and Larry did. He even said it was a little intimidating.
The following week, I worked with the realtor and owners on the price. When it came time to negotiate, I had a list of what needed to be fixed, how much that would cost and why we were offering what we did. By the next day, we had a deal that made both sides happy.
As I think about it two years later, I’m incredibly grateful that we had these men in our lives to help us with such an important decision. I say had because two of them, my father and Larry, passed away recently.
Dad died of cancer last month, and Larry died less than two weeks ago, only two months after being diagnosed with the same terrible disease.
That in-depth inspection of our house and lending a helping hand was who those men were: Men’s men. Strong, smart, able to do far more with their hands than 99 percent of my generation and subsequent generations and, above all, giving.
As for our home? We love it. And I’m not sure we’d have it without Larry, Dad and Mike.