John Steinhauer says he learned about floods the hard way: “If you’re going to live with Mother Nature, you need to prepare for the worst or get out of her way.”
Choosing the latter, he had his once-flooded house raised 10 feet off the ground.
“Now I feel like Robinson Crusoe up in the trees,” he said.
As enjoyed from its many decks and a rooftop lookout, the elevated home seems almost like a tree house, surrounded by huge, 50-year-old sycamores and other varieties.
Some branches are so close he can easily reach out and pick pears from one tree or apples from another as he lounges on the deck.
Steinhauer’s more than four acres of property on Evansville’s east side is near two large lakes and the flood-prone Pigeon Creek.
Steinhauer, who runs his own advertising and marketing business, draws inspiration from Peter Nelson’s book “Treehouses: The Art and Craft of Living Out on a Limb.”
Steinhauer has been living back in the house nearly six months. This October he plans to bring back furniture he’s had in storage since being flooded out by 24 inches of Pigeon Creek backwater in late April 1996.
He first moved to the home, built in 1957, in 1990.
“Although in terribly bad shape, the house was in the woods and had a white picket fence, a woodburning stove and a Vermont-like feeling–everything I thought it should have,” he said. “With all its problems, it was right for me.”
Steinhauer spent nearly five years getting the place in good condition.
“The icing on the cake was a favorite stained-glass piece I installed in the attic with backlight for viewing from the outside. It was the last thing I had to do,” he said.
Then came three days and 13 inches of rain, flooding the home. Grade-school and high-school souvenirs, record albums and numerous other keepsakes were among items destroyed.
Once the grimy topsoil-filled water receded, “the scene took my breath away,” he said.
“My off-white carpet was all black. The drywall had become a sponge that soaked up the floodwater all the way up to the ceiling; holes had to be punched in the drywall to let the water out. And the electrical wiring was all ruined.”
He considered having the house torn down and replaced, but just the demolition and disposal would have cost $25,000. He decided to have the house raised.
The lifting–with hydraulic jacks at designated pressure points beneath the house–began in August 1996, one inch at a time.
Once the building was up 10 feet, Steinhauer signaled his approval and crawled inside.
“From every window I looked out I had a brand new view; it was an unbelievable feeling. I still get chills when I think about it.
“I then took a ladder up to the rooftop and the view from there was absolutely unimaginable; I thought I had won the lottery.”
The house is supported by concrete-block walls covered on the exterior with Tennessee sandstone. The walls enclose the open space on which the house formerly sat, which has been made into a large screened-in, open-air porch with handcrafted willow furniture.
Jerry Meece, owner of Meece and Sons Construction, said the project “was something different from what we had ever done.”
“John is a very creative person and made the project fun and interesting.”
