Can You See It?
Can you see it?
The wood shingles for the siding have fish-mouthed. And, if you look above the shingles, you'll see the barge rafters at the edge of the roof have separated.
This, unfortunately, gets the home inspector excited and you don't want me excited - you want me bored, bored, bored. Boring houses are good houses.
The gaps above are signals and the place to trace that signal is back to the foundation.
That roof segment is connected to a column connected to a masonry wall that also supports the deck/wraparound veranda. That wall is moving.
I say 'is' because an attempt at repair was made made for the deck - and failed. Newer movement broke a part of the repair.
The mortar for the masonry wall that was cracked has been repaired - and re-cracked.
We have an ongoing, slow-moving problem. It won't fall down tomorrow, but the systems aren't working, they're failing.
What's the solution?
A good structural engineer. I know one and, for stuff like this, I refer him. That's what I did here.
All things are fixable. The only question is who gets to pay. Part of my job is for you to have that question answered up front.
There's nothing worse than you moving in and discovering a year later that you're the deep pocket that will fix a structural failure.
How Old Is This House Again?
I was having a discussion with Chip Kenny, the inspector at Inland Northwest Home Inspections, about a house he was inspecting. The visuals - type of foundation, etc. - didn’t match the age of the home listed in the public sources.
I have run into this three times in the last year. The easiest one was a house listed as a 1965 building in a neighborhood in Pullman that was newer. The house had engineered trusses in the attic and the concrete foundation appeared to more modernly formed. When I opened the electrical panel, I found an inspection card for 1985. That fit much better, and I adjusted my report accordingly.
The nastiest one had the listing agent blow a gasket and shriek at the buyer’s agent. This particular Clarkston house was listed as a 1974 home but none of the features matched the vintage. The attic was sheathed with dimensional wood, the attic framing was 2x4 rafters, the number of outlets was low, the foundation system was funky. It didn’t feel like 1974.
When the buyer’s rep showed up, I asked her about this. She commented that the seller had put a 1955 date in the disclosures. I ran with that and suggested a video sewer scope of the main drainage line. As it happens, the material was Orangeburg pipe and was in lousy condition. Given the extreme over-reaction of the listing agent, I wonder if she already knew that the line was questionable. Hmmmm?
Anyway, to the point. How does this happen? How does an old house get listed as a newer home?
The answer is not that the real estate agent is deliberately deceptive (usually!) What happens is that the house undergoes a major remodel, so much so that the home is nearly new in a functional sense. The owner applies for, and gets, a new certificate of occupancy from the municipality. The records get updated with the new C.O. When the house gets listed again, anyone (or any computer algorithm) will locate the last certificate of occupancy and that date gets assigned to listing.
The only time we used to see this happen was when a home was moved. With tighter controls coming into play at the municipal level, I expect to see more of this sort of mischaracterization occurring. The home inspector community will need to be aware of the potential for the actual vintage of the building to be different from the documentation. Unfortunately, with so many new inspectors arriving on the scene that lack the thousands of houses of experience to recognize the oddities, this likely will get missed.