Twenty minutes before the doors open, the line already stretches from the front door to the gate, the crowd drawn by ads, flyers or the big ”DEMOLITION SALE TODAY” signs strategically posted in front.
The side street is parked up nose to tail with vehicles ranging from Volvos to beat-up pickup trucks. Rehabbing and sweat equity are about to meet recycling at this stately, ersatz Tudor residence in elegant Glen Ellyn that is scheduled for razing in just a few days.
The handwriting is on the wall, scrawled there in bold black marker by Jodi Murphy, the ebullient woman behind Murco Recycling Enterprises: ”Sweat Equity Will Save You Big Bucks!” ”Everything is for Sale!!” ”Let`s Clear This House! – And Save Our Landfills!”
Jodi Murphy and her stockbroker husband, Patrick, have stumbled onto a part-time business that gives them a way of doing well while doing good: Their year-old Murco Recycling Enterprises lets developers sell off the reusable parts of existing buildings and reap extra profits at no trouble to themselves-the Murphys work for a percentage of the gross. Meanwhile, rehabbers who join the Murco network find materials to fix up their homes at a fraction of the cost of buying things new, and useful items don`t end up in overburdened landfills.
In the last year Murco has sold off the innards from about 20 buildings, and it`s rapidly gaining acceptance from municipalities, developers and rehabbers alike. The hardest part is finding out about doomed houses in time. ”We broker off every possible thing in the home,” says Jodi Murphy, who describes Murco as ”first and foremost a recycling firm.” They`ll sell you any part of the house or grounds that you can move.
”It`s mostly used building materials-doors, floors, windows, carpeting, cabinets,” she says. ”We have a demolition protocol: People have to know the measurements of the doors and windows and things that they need; they have to bring their own tools and remove things themselves. They find what they need, then they make us an offer. We have some lively negotiations. It`s all in a spirit of good fun.”
A win-win proposition
Not the least of the good feelings go to the Murphys themselves. ”With other jobs-like selling computers-I`d make a sale, I`d be doing well, but so what?” notes Murphy, who enjoys being at home during the week with their children. ”I feel so good about this because it`s one of those rare situations where everybody benefits.”
The Murphys have a computer-based mailing list, a rehabbers` network
”geared toward people who got into their houses by the skin of their teeth-and who didn`t?-and want to upgrade for minimal expense,” she says. They charge $5 a year to cover the cost of their mailings and to weed out the merely curious from the truly interested. The sales are held on weekends, all the utilities are shut off for safety`s sake and Murco carries a million-dollar liability policy.
This particular weekend there`s something for almost everyone, from 26 sets of leaded-glass windows and a spectacular carved walnut mantelpiece to untold cedar closets and ceiling fans, from a complete greenhouse to a half-dozen bathrooms and hundreds of paving bricks.
The homeowner, Joe Lichtenberger, says he bought the property with the idea of restoring it and then realized that the cost would be prohibitive. He plans to have this house torn down and to erect three modern residences on the lot.
The neighbors are angry about his plans and he`s hoping the sale may improve his image a bit as well as earn him a few dollars more from materials that otherwise would be junked or taken by the wreckers. ”I`m not going to be real popular in town anyway,” he muses, ”but I`d like to see as much as possible from the house recycled.”
Mantel mania
At 8:57 a.m. the front door is opened, and the polite crowd surges in.
(”It`s not vicious like a garage sale,” confides Murphy. ”The people are nice.”) Immediately the cry goes up from a half-dozen throats: ”How much do you want for the mantel?”
Jodi tells the assemblage to look around, see what they`re interested in, and return to the living room at 9:30, when she`ll explain the ground rules and begin mini-auctions on the most coveted goods.
Look around they do, peering under radiator covers, testing blinds, putting their heads into appliances, measuring cabinets. Many are neighbors, wearing designer sweats and full makeup; men in overalls cheerfully lend them tape measures and proffer advice.
The ground rules are simple: Everything is for sale-just make them an offer; payment is cash only, although a check will hold your purchase until you can return with the greenbacks; remember that safety comes first; have some fun.
The house is divided into three zones, with Jodi`s mother, Angela Frank, handling the upstairs, Patrick Murphy doing the basement and exterior, and Jodi making the sales on the ground floor.
And the bids begin
Jodi starts right off with the lusted-after mantelpiece, beginning the bidding at $300. The price stalls within 45 seconds at $311, and Murphy, after trying to coax the price a little higher, pronounces it sold to Pam Borra of Glen Ellyn (who plans to put it over her third fireplace-the one in the family room). Bidding moves on to the leaded-glass windows. ”We walk a very fine line” when it comes to prices, Jodi confides. ”We work with people to move it out of here.”
Carole Wiedner Clarke, who lives next door in this house`s former coach house, is unhappy about the impending demolition, she says, but she buys several sets of diamond-paned windows at $40 a panel. ”I`m going to take a little bit of history from this house and move it to my own,” she says.
Others set their sights a bit lower. John Hill and Pete Charnon, who are rehabbing a 1928 house in Villa Park, are expertly pulling a pair of brass sconces from the wall. This is their second Murco sale, and they came prepared in both their dress and their tools. ”We`re going to put these lights in the dining room,” says Charnon, as Hill amiably instructs a befuddled Glen Ellyn woman on the best way to unscrew her purchase from the wall.
Outside, a mixed crew is grubbing up Purlington paving bricks at 30 cents each. Larry Kinchion, who lives within what would be walking distance of this house if he weren`t lugging 150 bricks with him, is working on a back door patio; he came prepared with gloves, shovel and a cart to haul his booty to the car. ”Next time, bring some gloves,” he advises Marian Reinertson, a woman from the Oak Brook area who`s a first-timer at this type of sale; she plans to put the bricks to use in a sidewalk and spice garden.
Carl Heuneberg, a welder for Northern Illinois Gas Co., lays down $100 for 330 pavers. ”My house is kinda rustic, and I`ve been looking for bricks,” he says. ”When I ran into these, I had to buy them. I love working on my house, and this is the greatest way in the world to do it. I feel good, (the Murphys) feel good, and the dumpster doesn`t get `em. It`s a great way to stay in shape-who needs a health club?”
Elsewhere, determined rehabbers are prying off cedar boards, digging up shrubbery, unscrewing toilets, hauling off huge planters.
”How much for the railroad ties?” bellows a man in a pink sweater to Patrick Murphy.
”Three dollars each,” Murphy hollers back.
Bare bones
By Monday morning, all that was left were ”studs, a couple walls and a toilet here or there, and that`s it,” says Jodi. ”The (front) stair treads and banister went to one person, a whole set of stairs went to another person. They took all the cedar from all the closets, all the paver bricks, all the landscaping, all the leaded windows, all the ceiling fans, all the kitchen cabinets, all the fixtures.
”We sold all the oak floors for 50 cents a foot-it`s down to the planking. We sold the greenhouse in its entirety. We sold the stone fireplace- the guy must have worked hours to get it out. I don`t know what he`s going to do with it, but mine is not to question, mine is just to cut the deal and make sure it`s done safely.
”When we`ve done a good job, there`s just a shell left.”
Jodi sees her business continuing to grow, because demolitions, particularly in towns like Hinsdale and Glen Ellyn, are increasingly becoming a fact of suburban life.
”It`s not gonna stop-it`s progress,” she says. ”There`s real solid reasons why these houses have to come down, or these guys wouldn`t be doing it. People in Hinsdale, where we`ve done about 15 homes, are glad to see us come, because they know that this way valuable things will be saved.
”Everybody likes a deal. Everybody likes to have a piece of history. When we broker a house, everybody wins-the developer wins, the people win, the landfills win-and we win.”
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For information on joining the Murco network, call 708-352-4111.
