The doors and windows are done. The appliances are on the way. The hardwood floors are stacked and ready to lay down.
In January, Ted Koerner’s Altadena house was incinerated in the Eaton fire along with thousands of others.
But today, he and his 13-year-old dog, Daisy, are just weeks from returning to their property after spending most of the year in temporary quarters, and they might be the first Altadenans to move into a completely rebuilt house.
“We’re starting to practice being home,” Koerner said in his front yard, with Daisy at his feet and a work crew applying finishing touches in the living room.
Daisy, a dark-eyed golden retriever with a coat that looks like a luxurious white bathrobe, is the star of this story and the reason Koerner is determined to have the house completed as soon as possible.
“I just want to go home,” said Ted Koerner to neighbors about his home that is being rebuilt.
Daisy, or Daisy Mae, as Koerner sometimes calls her, is well beyond average life expectancy for a golden retriever, and he wanted her to live out her life on the property that was their sanctuary. He feeds her salmon and bottled water; no impurities for his girl, who has Russian and Danish lineage and is as smart as she is sweet, according to the proudest of dog owners.
“That dog has saved my life more times than I can count,” said Koerner, 66, who is single, suffers from bouts of depression, and bonded with Daisy the day he rescued her as a puppy. “She is my service dog.”
They lost everything but each other, and for Daisy’s sake, as much as his own, he has pushed and prodded, eager to get home.
“They framed the whole house, and the garage, in three days. Thirty journeymen framers. Because of her,” said Koerner, his voice breaking as he recalled the house-raising that began in mid-July. “They all understood, if she dies before I get home, don’t finish building it, because I’ll be dead the same day.”
Work continues on Koerner’s home, where he expects to be moving in soon in Altadena.
Koerner believes he’ll be the first person to move into a brand new house in the Altadena fire zone. An L.A. County rebuilding coordinator backed that up, although Victoria Knapp, who chairs the Altadena Town Council, said one other project is speeding toward completion.
Given that two-thirds of the 6,000-plus burned properties haven’t even hit the permitting phase yet, and that it could be a few years before a rebuilt Altadena takes shape, the questions here are obvious:
What magic did Koerner perform to approach the finish line in short order, and are there lessons for others?
Koerner runs an investigations and fraud-prevention company that has had decades of dealings with government agencies and assorted businesses, including insurance companies. So although he was just one David against an army of Goliaths, he was not new to the practice of reloading a slingshot.
Before the smoke of the Eaton fire had cleared, while staying with Daisy at a Pasadena hotel, Koerner met an Army Corps of Engineers official who advised him that once his lot was cleared, he should pour the cement of a new foundation as soon as possible. Whatever it took to make it happen, do it. That would put him at the front of the line in a crowd of thousands rebuilding from scratch.
Koerner took the advice to heart and decided not to wait on an insurance payment, which could be indefinitely disputed and delayed. Instead, he liquidated retirement funds and plowed ahead on his own nickel with the hope of getting reimbursed later.
Koerner and Daisy spend a warm moment together.
Any major construction project is a herding expedition in a blinding fog, and it can be a test of patience and sanity. The plumber is here but the faucets aren’t. The drywall crew shows up but can’t do anything until the electrician runs the wiring. The sprinkling system is done but the inspector just left on a Hawaiian vacation. And the roof tiles were last seen on a pickup truck that might or might not have left a warehouse in Arizona, or possibly New Mexico.
This is why people often crack that you should take the promised cost and timeline of a project, double both, and line up a good marriage counselor. In the aftermath of an epic disaster, you also have to wrangle with the complications of destroyed infrastructure, permitting bottlenecks, insurance disputes and scary levels of contamination.
I know of one company, Genesis Builders, that says it’s managing and speeding the entire process with pre-designed homes that can be completed in 15 months, but I haven’t checked out the details yet.
For those interested in following Koerner’s lead, how best to proceed?
Koerner Lesson No. 1: “Email is not communication.”
And what’s he mean by that?
“If you send an email and wait for a callback, you’re not going to get one,” he said. “No city, no county, no governmental agency is ever ready for a disaster of this magnitude. It’s always going to be chaos.”
He called people, instead, and kept a file of direct lines, or he met with people face to face. He was the proverbial squeaky wheel, never taking no for an answer, and he was able to invest a ton of his own time, even if it meant being on hold long enough to repeatedly read “Old Yeller” and watch the movie.
Koerner heaped praise on Anish Saraiya, director of the Altadena recovery for L.A. County Supervisor Kathryn Barger, for helping him navigate the maze. When I used the word “persistent” to describe Koerner, Saraiya corrected me.
“He’s tenacious,” he said.
Saraiya said Koerner has helped identify roadblocks to progress — such as the typical lead time in lining up utility services — and the county is working to streamline the entire rebuilding process for everyone.
Koerner Lesson No. 2: “Make a decision to go home.”
By that, he means get moving, and keep the blueprints simple.
“This is not the time to build a mansion to your legacy,” Koerner said. “Do you want to go home, or do you want to mess with every three inches of where the sink goes, the closet goes, every door, every window? Make a decision and stick with it. … This is not some grand demonstration of your design capabilities. This is about going home, or you go to the back of the line and wait.”
Koerner Lesson No. 3: “Hire a builder who understands the meaning of the word ‘finish.’”
Before the fire, Koerner was having his bathrooms remodeled by Innova Creative Solution, a Van Nuys-based general contracting company. He trusted project manager Jossef Abraham, so he hired him to build his new house. And Abraham, according to Koerner, has kept things moving as promised.
“I think it helps a lot for people who are victims of fire to see progress,” Abraham told me, saying he’s managed the bureaucratic hurdles and made sure his material suppliers are lined up.
The house will be better shielded against fire, Abraham said, with concrete roof tiles, tempered windows, sprinklers and enclosed eaves. He said he’s well aware of Koerner’s bond with Daisy, and although he doesn’t know if he can get man and his best friend home by Halloween, he thinks six weeks is doable.
“Daisy is his entire world and she’s just amazing. What a dog,” Abraham said. ”
Koerner and Daisy sit in the backyard of their Altadena home.
Koerner’s house sits just west of Lake Avenue, where mountain and metropolis meet, with sweeping views across the valley and down to the sea. On clear days, Koerner said, he can see to Dana Point and to Ventura.
He avoided visiting his property before framing began, too depressed by the empty space where home had been since 2006. When Daisy was a pup, Koerner began planting dozens of native plants near the Aleppo pines and fig trees, creating what he called their campground arboretum. Most of which was destroyed.
On a recent visit with Daisy, Koerner took a seat in the front yard, under a heritage oak tree that survived the fire, and looked down the hill toward dozens of vacant lots where houses once stood and disaster seemed remote. Daisy seemed surprised, maybe even confused, by the altered terrain. But she soon fell into a familiar rhythm.
“She immediately walked over to me and wiggled around like goldens do,” Koerner said. “She looked at me, licked my hands, lay down next to my feet and went sound asleep. And the neighbor and I cried a lot because that’s all that matters to dogs, is that they’re with us.”
steve.lopez@latimes.com
This story originally appeared on LA Times
