Building defects spoil homeowners' dreams
Sunday, June 19, 2005
The Oregonian
By Jeff Manning
From Portland to Seattle to Vancouver, B.C., homes and condominiums are
falling victim to a commonplace enemy long thought to be vanquished -- the
humble raindrop.
Over the past decade, the combined effects of new building techniques, trouble-prone
materials and shoddy construction have made modern homes vulnerable to moisture
damage. Simply put, rot and mold are eating away at the structural components
inside a small but growing number of today's homes and condos.
The result is an ugly -- and costly -- affront to the American Dream.
In Portland's West Hills, million-dollar units at Vista House Condominiums
sit shrouded in tarps for more than a year while residents settle for $5.5
million in repairs. In Lake Oswego, a couple sues for $898,000 to fix a leaky
roof, walls and windows of their $1.8 million dream house. In Depoe Bay, owners
of a TrendWest time share demand $12 million for damages so extensive their
lawyer says the complex needs to be rebuilt.
The problem is most evident in the Pacific Northwest and British Columbia,
one of the rainiest corners of North America. But experts say that almost
every region with humidity and precipitation has been affected, including
the Rockies, Southeast and Midwest.
Already, thousands of homeowners nationwide have sued or turned to builders
and insurers for repair costs, a daunting process that takes a financial and
emotional toll.
"For the last year and a half, when I wake up and it's raining, I don't
go back to sleep," said Brian Leitgeb, whose $600,000 Forest Heights
home suffered extensive moisture damage. "I literally think about my
house rotting every time that happens.
"My doctor says I must have some sort of sleeping disorder. No -- I just
have a crappy house."
Leitgeb was one of the lucky ones. After nine months of negotiation, his builder's
insurance company covered the $100,000 repair bill. Many homeowners, even
those who have launched expensive legal fights, get reimbursed for only 50
percent to 70 percent of their repair costs. The rest comes out of pocket.
Mold and trouble-prone building products have been on the building industry's
radar episodically since the early 1990s. But an investigation by The Oregonian,
based on extensive interviews with contractors, homeowners and engineers and
drawing from confidential legal settlements, found that damage claims are
exploding in step with the housing boom. The underlying causes are hotly disputed
and little understood by homeowners.
Builders and engineers say the surge can be traced to good intentions. Building
codes adopted in the 1970s and strengthened through the '80s and early '90s,
required greater energy efficiency. Paradoxically, the demise of the drafty
house had an unintended consequence: When moisture penetrates today's walls,
they tend to stay wet.
"We used to build buildings like those great boxers from the 1950s who
could really take a punch," said engineer Joe Lstiburek, a nationally
known expert on construction problems. "Now we're building buildings
with glass jaws."
Some dispute that argument. The National Association of Home Builders says
money-hungry lawyers are primarily to blame for rising litigation over construction
defects. But the theory that design, materials and construction practices
all contribute to the problem increasingly is embraced by housing professionals
as well as grass-roots builders, some of whom are adopting new preventive
techniques.
The fortunes of many are at stake. During the past decade, more than 16 million
new homes or condos have been built in the United States, including 2 million
last year. Home building is one of the nation's biggest industries, generating
about 14 percent of the nation's gross national product, according to the
NAHB. And today, buyers are paying more money than ever for what, in most
cases, will be their single largest investment.
A fierce battle is shaping up over who will pay for the damage.
In Oregon, Washington, California, Nevada, Colorado and Illinois, courthouses
are crammed with lawsuits against builders, a trend that has staggered the
construction industry while adding thousands of dollars to home prices as
insurers increase rates for builder liability policies, or refuse to cover
some types of damage.
At least five insurance companies have pulled out of the contractor liability
business in Oregon, saying defects and big payouts make it too risky. The
builders, for their part, are pressing legislatures here and in other states
for laws restricting the right of homeowners to sue for repairs.
Though difficult to quantify, the extent of the damage is clearly enormous,
according to more than 100 interviews with homeowners, contractors, developers,
engineers, lawyers and industry experts.
One measure of the financial impact comes from insurance companies, which
told Oregon regulators in a survey that they could pay out more than $125
million for construction defects on liability policies in place during 2001-03
alone. Regulators said insurers portrayed the figure as a dramatic increase
from prior years.
Drawing on dozens of lawsuits and sealed settlements, The Oregonian confirmed
that three Portland law firms alone have helped homeowners in Oregon and Southwest
Washington win $70 million since 2001.
Nationally, construction defect losses run into the billions. Ron Kozlowski,
a principal in the consulting and actuarial firm Towers Perrin in San Francisco,
said the construction defect losses and loss reserves from 20 insurance companies
he has studied stands at about $10 billion since 1995.
That is just a sliver of the entire industry. "The actual total is way
beyond that," Kozlowski said.
Repair costs for moisture-related defects in British Columbia, where the housing
boom preceded Oregon's, have exceeded $1 billion, according to the province's
Homeowner Protection Office.
Hidden defects
To homeowners, one of the most frustrating aspects of dealing with construction
defects is the lack of regulatory protection.
State building code officials and city and county inspectors interviewed knew
little about the scale of the problems. The Oregon Construction Contractors
Board, which licenses the state's more than 40,000 contractors and whose mission
is to stand up for consumers, has spent months trying to alleviate the insurance
gap facing contractors. But it has not focused on the construction failures
that are driving big claims settlements.
Craig Smith, administrator of the contractors board, said it's unclear who's
at fault. "Is it really defective product?" he asked. "Or is
it really the current state of affairs in the tort area of law?"
Bob Walsh, one of Portland's most respected builders, no longer needs any
convincing.
Stadium Station, an apartment project Walsh's namesake construction firm completed
in 2000, showed him that something is going profoundly wrong with newly constructed
buildings.
Other than a few cracks in its stucco siding, the building, adjacent to PGE
Park in Portland, seemed to go up without a hitch.
Barely two years later, an inspector troubled by the cracks suggested the
company take a closer look. As crews dug into the building's south wall, they
found rot and mold extending 24 inches into the interior floors. "You
could put your foot through the flooring," Walsh said. "We were
worried about a collapse."
The repairs took eight months and cost $3 million, half the building's original
cost. Walsh's company paid $2 million of the repair costs out of pocket.
Stadium Station's problems are typical of the kind of moisture-related defects
that increasingly are turning up in condominiums and detached single-family
homes around the region.
The typical Northwest residence of prior decades was relatively insensitive
to water intrusion. Water inevitably found its way into wall cavities of these
homes, perhaps through a crack in the siding or a leaky or poorly installed
window.
But there was generally sufficient space within the wall for the water to
drain and enough airflow through the wall to dry it out.
Tighter residential energy standards, which increased a number of times between
1973 and 1993, changed things. To meet them, contractors stuffed wall cavities
with more insulation.
"Those drafty old walls from the 1940s and '50s were wonderful in keeping
moisture problems to a minimum," said Paul Lukes, a Seattle building
consultant. "New walls don't leak more. Many of them leak much less.
But these new walls don't have the ability to dissipate the water."
The so-called "heat drive" through the wall cavity that helped dry
out older homes has been eroded by insulation and other barriers, said David
Ricketts of RDH Building Engineering in Vancouver, B.C., where the problem
has been extensively studied.
The potential for trouble increased during the 1990s with the emergence of
new building materials.
Many builders shifted from plywood to a cheaper alternative called oriented
strand board, or OSB.
OSB sheathing, made of wood chips compressed and glued together into a panel,
is a cousin to the mushroom-sprouting Inner-Seal siding from Louisiana-Pacific
that cost homeowners millions of dollars in the mid-1990s. Some major builders
now refuse to use OSB, considering it less resistant than plywood to moisture
problems such as swelling and mold.
In the same decade, Northwest builders in considerable numbers began siding
homes with a synthetic stucco generically known as Exterior Insulation and
Finish Systems, or EIFS. The EIFS siding comes with its own polystyrene backing
that insulates a house much as a foam cup keeps coffee hot. But the insulation
also tended to trap any water that seeped behind it, causing decay within
the wall cavity.
Oregon's protracted building boom adds still another ingredient to the recipe.
The state's red-hot housing market has strained contractors' ability to adequately
supervise jobs. It also depleted the pool of qualified labor, leading to inevitable
lapses in quality. The same thing happened in British Columbia, where a government
inquiry determined shoddy work was as much to blame as new materials.
The quality problems are national. In a survey of U.S. home inspectors in
2003, Criterium Engineering, a Portland, Maine, engineering and inspection
firm, found that 15 percent of new homes contain at least two significant
construction defects. The survey blamed a lack of skilled labor as well as
new materials.
Walsh, one of the state's most prominent builders, said it's pointless and
counterproductive for his industry to deny that buildings are suffering problems
or to blame those problems on homeowners or their attorneys. With the help
of Ricketts' engineering firm, Walsh's company is adopting new practices to
avoid future moisture problems.
"Stadium Station is the poster child for these issues," Walsh said. "There
were no angry homeowners or attorneys here. The building just failed. . .
. We have an industry crisis."
Synthetic stucco
There are angry homeowners elsewhere, however, and many have attorneys.
Betsy Lee sits in the sunny dining room of her handsome Mediterranean-style
home in Gresham. In the distance, Mount St. Helens pokes through the clouds.
In contrast to the bucolic setting, Lee is tearful and desperate. She is facing
$100,000 to $200,000 in repair costs for the home she bought in 2001 for $429,000.
Recently divorced, she can't afford the repairs and can't sell the house because
of its problems.
Lee hired a lawyer to explore a possible case against her builder.
"To me, it's a crime," she said. "I feel like I've been raped.
I'm financially being drained of everything I have to fight this."
Among Lee's largest and most expensive problems: Her EIFS siding has failed
and needs replacing.
EIFS figures in a significant number of the defect lawsuits in the Portland
area. Michael Scott, a Tigard lawyer who worked as an independent mediator
in about 300 cases, said EIFS was a factor in about two-thirds of them.
The condos at Prescott House in Northwest Portland have an EIFS problem; owners
have sued for $1.7 million in repairs. Residents of the Vista House condo
project in Portland's West Hills endured more than a year under tarps and
scaffolding while repair crews removed the failed EIFS siding, part of a repair
job that cost at least $5.5 million.
Then there is Sam Allen, president of the Monarch Hotel in Clackamas. He is
a two-time EIFS loser.
The Monarch's EIFS siding first failed in 1994, requiring a $1 million repair.
Allen made the ill-fated decision to replace it with more EIFS. The second
layer failed in 2003, forcing a $3.1 million repair and redesign that disrupted
operations and took a significant toll on business until work was finally
completed late last year.
"Here you've got a product where it has to be installed absolutely perfectly
or it will fail," Allen said of EIFS. "For them to keep selling
a product that has that devastating an impact on people was wrong. It is wrong."
Portland lawyer Greg Byrne is also a veteran of home-siding failures. In 1997,
he and a neighbor in a Northwest Portland duplex replaced their failed Louisiana-Pacific
Inner-Seal siding with EIFS.
Five years later, in June 2002, inspectors reported widespread water intrusion,
rot and structural damage behind the siding. Byrne and his neighbor paid more
than $110,000 to replace the EIFS with cedar siding. They sued Dryvit Systems
Inc., the Rhode Island company that is the largest supplier of EIFS, in January
2004.
"It's not just that you have to replace the siding," said Byrne,
whose lawsuit is pending. "You have to replace the building under the
siding. And you can't and don't know it until it is too late."
Byrne is among more than 3,000 property owners across the country who have
sued Dryvit or have joined a national class-action case pending against the
company in Tennessee.
Byrne opted out of the class action for a number of reasons, including that
the proposed settlement calls for victims to have their damaged homes refitted
with Dryvit EIFS.
By most accounts, EIFS first hit the Portland market in the early 1990s. It
offered the handsome look of stucco, installed faster and allowed architects
to design touches such as arches, capstones and cornices. But builders and
subcontractors who used it have been caught in the EIFS crossfire.
Blazer Homes of Tigard has built 20 high-end homes sided with EIFS over the
years. The company has been sued 19 times by angry homeowners, mostly because
of EIFS.
"I think the product is inherently flawed," said Blazer President
Ray Derby. "It does not work well with wood-frame construction. If water
gets behind it, there are going to be problems. It's hard to build a house
that is Thermos-bottle tight."
Mike Busher has lost count of the lawsuits against his now-bankrupt company,
Exterior Specialty Systems of Clackamas, an EIFS installer that put the synthetic
stucco on about 3,000 area homes.
How many of those houses will go bad?
"All of them," Busher predicted. "I don't see how they can't
fail. It's inherent. At some point, either through water intrusion or condensation
or both, water's going to get in. It's just a matter of time."
Dryvit spokesman Doug Mault said Busher's claims are ridiculous. EIFS is not
to blame for all the problems, he said. The fault lies with builders, who
are doing sloppy work. "This is an extraordinarily forgiving system," Mault
said of EIFS. "If a building isn't constructed correctly, it doesn't
matter what's on the outside."
Mault said there about 350,000 buildings around the country clad with Dryvit
EIFS. Estimates of the number of Portland-area EIFS homes range from 3,000
to 10,000.
New-home nightmare
Michael and Darcy Moore left Chicago for Oregon in 2000 convinced that it
was the right move for their young children. Before they left, a builder friend
who had heard of their plans for a new house offered advice:
Don't side the house with EIFS.
So when the Moores, both successful investment industry executives, had their
$1.3 million house built on a $500,000 lot in Lake Oswego, they had it sided
with conventional stucco, cedar and stone.
The Moores moved into the 6,500-square-foot house in July 2001. Like many
high-end homes built in the area in recent years, it is high on a ridge. View
homes fetch high price tags for the builder. But they are also exposed to
fierce winds and rain that homes in lower elevations never see.
With the first significant October rains, the Moores' nightmare began.
The leaks started in the kitchen. Soon, water drizzled down the chimney, leaving
ashy blotches on carpets and furniture. Stains ringed the wallboard, and drips
ultimately fell from the ceiling of their master bedroom.
For months, the Moores tried to get their builder, Jon Mathis Custom Homes,
to fix the leaks as well as many other smaller details they say were never
completed. Mathis, a 30-year veteran of the industry, made several visits,
often with subcontractors who had worked on the house.
The Moores filed a claim with the Construction Contractors Board, which typically
deals with smaller claims. But as that process dragged on with no resolution,
the scope of the damage widened. Eventually the couple lost all trust in Mathis
and didn't want him touching their house.
They sued in June 2003 asking for $898,000 in damages, which included repair
costs, attorney fees and $104,000 for "loss of use."
Mathis denied any responsibility and filed complaints against his eight subcontractors
and materials suppliers.
An inspector hired by the Moores told them the construction shortcomings were
so varied and vast that they would need to remove all the siding as well as
several windows and doors. The couple took out two loans from KeyBank to pay
for the work.
Soon the Moores' home had turned into a noisy, dirty construction site. Workers
were generally at the site slamming hammers and revving power tools by 7:30
a.m. To protect the interior, the repair contractor wrapped the house in a
cocoon of scaffolding and plastic in February 2003. The Moores constantly
worried that their three adventurous children would climb the scaffolding
and hurt themselves.
"I remember laying in bed thinking, it just couldn't get worse," Michael
Moore said. "And then the wind would pick up and the tarps would start
flapping. I turned to Darcy, 'It just got worse.' "
Darcy Moore, a relatively cool-headed veteran of the venture capital industry,
said she was driven to the edge by the lack of privacy. "I had to go
to my sister's house to cry," she said.
After months of legal maneuvering, Clackamas County Circuit Court Judge Robert
Herndon successfully mediated a settlement offer of $700,000. That was considerably
less than the Moores' initial demand and $26,000 less than their total repair
and litigation costs. But the Moores agreed anyway.
"It's like a big game," Darcy Moore said. "Who will blink first?"
"We blinked," her husband interjected.
Mathis doesn't dispute that the Moores' house leaked. But he also views himself
as a casualty of a legal process that he claims is out of control.
Like many builders, Mathis argues that a handful of attorneys and their network
of home inspectors and repair contractors are making relatively minor problems
into big paydays -- for themselves.
He said he could have fixed the Moores' home for one-fifth of the price charged
by their repair contractor. He was in the process of doing so when the Moores'
attitude toward him was poisoned by their lawyer, he said.
"The only winners are the attorneys and the guy who is doing the work," Mathis
said. "They work together as a team, and they go from one house to another."
Today, the Moores' home wears a new siding of cedar and stone, and it just
weathered its second winter with no leaks. The couple wonder at the lack of
public recognition of these construction failures and the resulting financial
hardship for home buyers.
"Why is this happening?" Darcy Moore asked. "Why don't more
people know about it? Where are the regulators? People who are buying or building
their houses need to beware."
Damage beyond walls
On March 7, a Clackamas County jury rocked the local building industry when
it awarded $498,418 to Paul and Renee Haynes.
The Haynes had claimed their new, 1,950-square-foot house in rural Clackamas
County near Sandy was rife with construction errors that led to moisture problems.
But the heart of their lawsuit, the part that inspires indignation and a good
bit of fear among builders, was the claim that their new house had poisoned
them.
The Hayneses asserted that mold inside the wall cavity of their home caused
possibly permanent neurological damage in their children as well as assorted
health problems in Renee Haynes.
The notion that a moisture-damaged home could ruin your health as well as
your finances is as frightening to builders as it is to homeowners.
To some builders and their allies, mold claims represent the epitome of a
legal system gone haywire -- attorneys wielding junk science and preying on
builders with bogus claims. They fear cases such as the Hayneses' could inspire
many more such claims, which unlike garden-variety lawsuits over construction
defects allow for potentially hefty personal injury awards.
In its defense, Adair Homes, the Beaverton company that finished the Hayneses'
house in 2002, called to the stand a toxicologist, an industrial hygienist
and Dr. Emil Bardana, an allergist from Oregon Health & Science University.
"The scientific evidence in the journals has been totally inadequate
to establish a causal relationship between the mold found in homes and the
adverse effects that are being alleged today," Bardana said after the
trial.
The Hayneses rebutted Adair's experts with their own, who convinced the jury
there was a connection between mold and the family's health problems. Yet
their jubilation at the hard-fought victory has been tempered by the possibility
that they may never see the $500,000.
The reason? Adair Homes' liability insurance didn't cover mold claims.
Now, nearly all construction lawsuits settle before trial with a chunk of
cash provided by the builder's liability insurance companies. But the insurers,
fed up with bankrolling these settlements, are pulling out of the contractor
liability market or are increasing rates to barely affordable levels.
Carriers are also further reducing their exposure by limiting the kinds of
claims they'll pay. During the past four years, some have excluded EIFS claims,
multifamily claims and those involving any residential building.
They have also added mold to the growing list of problems that are excluded
from coverage.
"The end game here is that you're going to have a bunch of uninsured
contractors," said Mike Farnell, a Portland lawyer specializing in insurance
issues. "The homeowners and plaintiffs' bar are going to find that the
resources needed to fund these lawsuits goes away."
The Hayneses have moved back into their former house, which sits on the same
lot as the new one. They've gone deeply in debt to pay the $150,000 in legal
fees, not to mention the $65,000 they paid for their new house, a reduced
price because the Hayneses did site preparation and cleanup themselves.
The family's legal fees will only increase. Adair filed notice June 1 that
it intends to appeal the verdict. The company declined repeated interview
requests.
The Hayneses' new home now sits unused with all their furniture, clothing
and other belongings inside. They've enrolled their two sons in special education
class
es. Both suffer from "sensory integration syndrome" caused by mold
exposure, Renee Haynes said, making it difficult for them to deal with too
much stimuli.
Like many other homeowners, Renee Haynes feels bitter and betrayed.
"We were failed by the builder," she said. "We were failed
by the county inspector. We tried repeatedly to get the state regulators to
respond. We went to the attorney general's office.
"I'd like to know who is supposed to protect me."

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