Ex-QB Tackles Challenging Remodel Job

What would make a homeowner move from the dream house he had designed, remodeled and perfected just a few years earlier to tackle the challenge of a ramshackle two-bedroom, one-bath fixer? That’s a question I’ve asked myself a dozen times.

The 1950s-era California bungalow straddling the crest of a bluff high above coastal Del Mar in north San Diego County wasn’t a hopeless cause. It had just enough problems to make it challenging, but also the potential to be a true jewel.

Six years of designing and overseeing construction of custom homes and remodeling projects had prepared me for the challenge.

It also helped refine my remodeling philosophy, which holds that the home must meet the needs of the owner’s lifestyle from a functional standpoint, the project must fall within the budget, and aesthetically, the home must be a joy to live in.

Originally I bought the Del Mar house as an investment, never intending to live in it. My daughters had no desire to leave their nice comfortable home for what they called an “embarrassment.”

But as time went by and our design evolved, my wife, Jeri, and I could no longer resist the place. We made our decision and, despite the girls’ protests, we headed for Del Mar.

At first glance it was the house’s open beam ceilings and brick floors that glowed with the patina of many years of wear that captivated my attention. It reminded me of the family home my father built east of San Diego 40 years ago.

The difference was that this one had a rawness, windows that made it almost transparent, supported by solid post-and-beam construction. We were also mesmerized by the views--the ocean to the west and the rolling hills of San Diego County to the east.

Although we liked the feel of its basic floor plan, our two-bedroom fixer was too small for a family of five. It also lacked necessities such as forced air heat, tempered glass windows and a workable kitchen.

And it had suffered from years of neglect. One owner had painted all the floors red--including the patio. Many of the interior walls were covered in dark wood that had never been cared for.

Despite my experience and planning, all did not go exactly as expected. Remodeling by its very nature is not as quick or as easy as starting from scratch. That’s a lesson I learned 10 years ago.

The first home my wife and I remodeled was supposed to have been completed by the time we returned to San Diego from Cleveland, where I had played football with the Browns for 12 seasons. Instead, we moved our two toddler-age daughters into a half-framed house. For six months the four of us lived in two rooms surrounded by noisy construction crews.

I swore we wouldn’t make that mistake again. We weren’t going to move into this house until every last element was exactly the way we wanted it. And we almost succeeded.

As with any remodeling job, we faced many decisions, and a few compromises. As much as I don’t like that word, it is a fact of life.

Because of the floor-area-ratio regulations in Del Mar, we could add only about 900 square feet of living space to this house and 400 square feet for the garage. When my clients are faced with this sort of dilemma, I advise them to place a value on their activities and ruthlessly cut those elements that aren’t necessary. So day after day, I played with the footprint of the house until I created a combination that would work for us.

We added a master bedroom and bath upstairs, a third bedroom and bath for our son, laundry room and garage downstairs. The downstairs bedroom, located next to the kitchens has a wall that can someday be removed if we ever want to turn it into a TV room or study.

Because the kitchen had been divided into two small, impractical spaces, we knocked down a wall to create one spacious room with an island in the center. We also added a wood-burning stove in the kitchen and a fan to circulate warm air throughout the rest of the house.

Because our family spends so much time in this room, I designed a wall for storing pantry items, as well as the TV and stereo.

To make the cabinetry look custom, we added wider rails and specially selected hardware to standard cabinet doors. The kitchen floor is a commercial-grade flooring similar to what you find at airports and other public buildings. Cheap and sturdy, it will withstand heavy abuse. We minimized the grout line because that is where the dirt builds up.

We discovered the kitchen’s hanging light fixtures in a catalogue. When I called to order them, however, the lights were all sold out and discontinued. Only three were left in a display in Los Angeles. My wife drove up and bought them at a discount.

To enhance the rustic character of the house, we exposed the hidden bolts in the wood-beamed ceiling and ran a black industrial-style forced air heating duct across the family room and kitchen ceilings. We left the fireplace stones distressed, even though friends encouraged us to sandblast them.

To avoid dating the house with a state-of-the-art addition, we made new and old design elements complement one another. You can’t walk in this house and say, “Oh, here is where the new part starts.”

For instance, to make the wood beam ceiling in the new rooms match the existing rooms, we had to have the wood specially milled. The existing ceiling used 2 feet by 12 feet tongue-in-groove cedar, which was a standard material in homes during the 1940s and ‘50s. Let me tell you, it is no longer a poor man’s wood. I’ve seen people tearing it out of their old houses and wonder if they know how expensive it is to replace.

We lavished attention on the front and back yard landscaping--with good reason. There was none.

The house is built on a solid sandstone bluff. While leaving some sandstone exposed, we imported soil for new planting among the existing agave and coyote bush. Conscious of California’s water shortage, we planted many drought-resistant trees and shrubs that once thrived naturally in Del Mar. The sprinklers were installed with a caveat: Once the landscaping takes root, the water goes off. Whatever plants survive will thrive without water from us.

It is tough to admit you could fall prey to some miscalculations, but we did when we added the retaining wall for our new circular driveway--we interrupted the natural drainage flow.

The retaining wall over the sandstone acted like a dam, causing water to collect under the newly graded driveway. Of course, it rained, and we had to wait for the dirt to dry out before we could asphalt the driveway, but not until we brought in a backhoe and built a new drain.

Despite our planning, we had to move into the house before the new driveway was built--something I swore I’d never do.

But then, when you are remodeling, never say never. Flexibility is the name of the game.

In the end, we succeeded in transforming a “tear-down” into a cozy-yet-exciting home that has become the perfect reflection of our family’s lifestyle.

And one of my daughters is no longer embarrassed to call it home.