THE GREAT FLOOD OF ’18, PART 3

Then it was Friday morning. Mike left for an appointment in Spokane, and I called Adjuster Tim and told him about the reported mold. He said he would call our local insurance company and get back to me. Ten minutes later he called with the name of another local mitigation company. “They expect to hear from you soon, so call them immediately, but you are under no obligation to employ this company. The choice is yours.”

So, I called the company, and they said they already knew of my situation. A representative would call me back very soon, she said. That happened, and “Mike” and I agreed to meet at the farmhouse later in the morning. (Yes, yet another Mike; I’ll call him “Big Mike.”)

When it comes to handling the business, my Mike is my hero, but here I was driving to the farm again to handle yet another meeting on this important problem. I changed my clothes, put Nellie in the kennel, loaded Bess in the Dakota, and off we went.

As Big Mike drove up to the farmhouse in his big pick-up, I noticed the words “mold removal” clearly displayed. He said mold was to be expected and he would not need an “industrial specialist.” He was pleasant and thorough. The damage is even more extensive than we had feared, but my initial feeling was that I had found the right company. Big Mike remarked, “When you said this house was 100 years old, I said to myself, ‘Oh boy, here we go again,’ but this place is just beautiful.”

“If you hire me,” Big Mike continued, “I become your contractor and see the project through from beginning to end.” He explained that he does only insurance work. We (my Mike and I) need not do a thing – only what we want to do. He would start by packing up contents. His finish carpenter would remove the old wood, such as original baseboards, and recondition it. He, too, mentioned the beautiful texturing of the walls and said he thought his person could match it. He said that anything that is damaged cannot be put back. He would come to us when decisions need to be made.

REALLY? – Well, let me just think about this. We didn’t expect to re-do the house – ever – but now that we have to, I DO have a few changes in mind.

Yeah – too bad about Grandma Ina’s maple floors. Believe me, I can just imagine her displeasure and disappointment. (She talks in my imagination, you know.) The floors were a great conversation piece and told the story of a century, but – oh, well! Out with the old, in with the new, and there’s something to be said for new. We have dogs, mice, dirt and dust. Let’s have something we can clean because those unsealed hardwood floors have been a lazy housewife’s nightmare. Let’s have a floor that can withstand use and get rid of the rugs. WooHoo!

Oh! And those custom oak cabinets in the kitchen. Well, I’d like white tongue-in-groove, but the original contractor and cabinetmaker talked me out of it.

“A painted cabinet,” questioned Big Mike in the same tone I’ve heard before.

“Yes,” I said, sticking to my guns. “This is a farmhouse. A farmhouse kitchen should be white tongue-in-groove.” So, we discussed options. If the damage isn’t extensive, maybe just new cabinet doors. Yes, I can see that. Or, maybe new cabinets will be in order. Time will tell.

Since my Mike wasn’t there, Big Mike suggested we meet with him at his Clarkston office to go over things together, and we arranged an appointment for Monday. The work would begin in about ten days, he said. KW