Mold changes a way of life

Family moves out of home and into back yard after insurance dispute over water damage, contamination; Insurer being sued says couple isn't entitled to more assistance

By ED TIMMS Staff Writer
Published October 20, 2002
 

Karen and Mike Simmons live in a backyard shed, sharing 260 square feet of space with two small dogs, a kitten and a pet tarantula. When it's cold or raining, they're joined by their 13-year-old son, Michael, a soft-spoken and bespectacled eighth-grader who spends much of his time "at home" in a tent.

More than a year ago, the Simmonses became casualties of mold, the microbic invader that eats away at homes. It has turned Texas' insurance industry on its head and left thousands of Texans gasping at the increases in their homeowners insurance rates.

Their three-bedroom frame house in Irving is uninhabitable, the future uncertain.

The Simmonses say they aren't the ones who discovered the mold, decided on the testing or recommended someone be hired to remove it.

But they are living with the consequences.

After the water line burst, the Simmonses filed an insurance claim, and several weeks passed before their home was tested for mold. A company hired to "chase down the mold" later removed much of the flooring and interior.

Before that job was finished, the Simmonses say, their insurer, Farmers Insurance Group, deducted what had been paid to that company and other contractors, about $30,000, then sent them a check for the remaining balance on the coverage for their dwelling, roughly $34,000.

They say that was not enough to finish the job of removing mold and repairing their home, or to demolish the house and build another.

If the Simmonses move out, they would have to continue to pay their mortgage, as well as rent. If they walk away from the house, their credit would suffer. They also would lose their equity and their first home.

Attorneys representing Farmers stated that the Simmonses' claim was "fully and completely investigated and adjusted" and that they "are simply not entitled to receive any more money than what has already been paid on their claim."

The stresses of day-to-day life weigh heavily on the family. Sometimes, Mrs. Simmons said, "We both break down and cry. ... It consumes your life."

From the Coastal Plains to North Central Texas' Blackland Prairie, mold effectively has evicted Texans from their homes - in some cases, indefinitely.

Texas Department of Insurance Commissioner Jose Montemayor has pointed to a "large and unprecedented proliferation of mold claims" - more than 44,000 over the last two years.

During the 1990s, the state insurance department received two complaints related to mold claims. In the first eight months of 2002, there were 340.

Roughly half of mold-related complaints involved delays in handling the claims.

Homeowners and their families often spend months living in hotel rooms, apartments or with relatives waiting for their mold problems to be fixed. Unprepared for what sometimes follows the discovery of mold, they try to make sense of the nuances in their insurance policies and the exclusions stated by their insurers. They also face a jumble of contradictory information about the health risks associated with mold.

Industrial hygienists and adjusters may be dispatched to assess the scope of the problem and determine what's covered and what's not.

They're followed by "mold remediators" who are supposed to remove mold contamination and contractors whose job is to restore homes to a habitable state.

The remediators, who may or may not have expertise in mold removal, often pursue the troublesome fungus with a vengeance.

Insurance industry officials say that most homeowners come out of the problem with their homes restored. But other Texas families have not been so fortunate.

For the Simmons family, there's no end in sight.

Beyond the front door at the Simmons house, there's not much to suggest that a family once lived here.

Exposed 2-by-4 studs are almost all that remains of the interior walls. A precarious walkway of plywood panels leads from the front door to the back of the house, across 2-by-6 floor joists that once supported hardwood floors above the crusty black soil.

The exterior wooden siding bears evidence of mold damage. Colonies of black and orange molds have spread in bizarre tie-dye patterns across the painted surface of the ceiling above the front porch. Foundation problems have twisted walls and the outline of the roof.

Only a small portion of the house is still used by the Simmons family. The Irving couple had to spend about $5,000 to rig up a functioning toilet, shower and sink inside, transforming the house into what Mr. Simmons sardonically calls the "largest outhouse in Texas."

The family lived in the same yellow frame house with white trim for 12 years, first as renters and for the last four years as homeowners.

For that entire time, they were insured by Farmers Insurance Group, which announced last month that it would not renew the policies of 700,000 Texas homeowners. The move was prompted by enormous losses and a dispute with state regulators.

Before the water line break, Mr. and Mrs. Simmons had never made a claim on their house, as homeowners or renters.

But after returning from an eight-day vacation on June 24, 2001, they found their floors had buckled, and large cracks zig-zagged up the walls. Near the middle of the house, they heard an ominous "shoooosh." The primary water line to their house had burst.

Mr. Simmons immediately shut off the water flow to the house. They called their insurance company and a plumber, who cut a hole through the floor a few days later to fix the burst water line.

Through that hole, mold was visible under the house. Mr. Simmons, a barber who has cut hair in Irving for 40 years, said it was a Farmers adjuster "who said we had black mold" - a discovery that set off life-changing events for this family.

Several weeks went by before the Simmons home was tested for mold. And after the hole had been cut into the floor to fix the plumbing, according to the Simmonses, mold began spreading throughout the interior. The kitchen "was almost solid black," as were carpets throughout the house, Mr. Simmons said. Mold also had encrusted the floor joists, wall studs and the back side of sheetrock wall panels.

Other details of what the Simmonses say happened are reported in their lawsuit filed earlier this year. Among the defendants are Fire Insurance Exchange (a member of the Farmers Insurance Group) and PE Service Inc., the firm that tested the Simmons home for mold and recommended what to do about it.

An adjuster employed by Farmers came to the Simmons home on the same day as the plumber, according to the lawsuit, but the insurance claim was reassigned about a month later to an outside firm that often adjusts claims for the insurance company.

Tests to determine the extent of the mold contamination were conducted by PE Service on Aug. 20, 2001, nearly two months after mold was first spotted in the home.

The Simmons family moved out of their home into a nearby apartment in late September 2001. At first, they received an "additional living expense" allowance from their insurance company to help defray the costs.

But the payments stopped, and at the end of January, they moved into a barn-shaped shed that's about 50 feet away from what's left of their home.

"My husband's just a barber," Mrs. Simmons said. "If you are rich and you can afford to go rent an apartment or stay in a hotel for two years ... it would be different. But when you're not rich, it gets pretty hairy."

In October 2001, ARC Abatement Inc. was hired, according to the lawsuit, to remediate the "mold infestation."

Mrs. Simmons said that one of the adjusters gave them a piece of paper with two recommendations for mold remediators, but that "only one [ARC] was in the phone book."

Steve Chappell, vice president and general manager for the Dallas office of ARC Abatement, said his company followed a protocol provided by PE Service to deal with the mold. ARC is not named as a defendant in the Simmonses' lawsuit.

ARC already had completed most of the work called for by the contract when a complication arose. Mr. Chappell said that his company was about 80 percent done with the original bid and had opened up some of the walls and flooring when what appeared to be mold was discovered in the exterior siding.

The siding, he said, "appeared to have been impacted pretty severely."

Mr. Chappell said that ARC Abatement then notified the Simmonses' adjuster, and a representative of PE Service revisited the site.

ARC, he said, was later instructed to "take out the remaining sub-floor," which also revealed the problem with the house's foundation.

That was the last work performed by his company.

After the new discovery, Mr. Chappell said that Mrs. Simmons indicated that she didn't see how the mold could be effectively cleaned up. An ARC supervisor, Mr. Chappell said, didn't disagree.

If the siding were removed, the now mostly gutted house would have been exposed to open air, he said, essentially eliminating the need to employ the services of a mold abatement company to isolate and contain mold contamination. But Mr. Chappell said that what should have been done next was "not our call."

"We have long maintained a [policy] of letting ... those decisions be made by others with no financial interest in additional work," he said.

Frustrated with the response from their insurer and others involved, the Simmonses sought legal advice and filed their lawsuit.

David Gibson, who represents the Simmons family, wrote in the original petition that one report prepared by PE Service cited "various causes of water damage and fungal growth, all of which oddly tracked exclusions in Farmers' policy, including 'surface water' and 'past leaks,'" and another tried to establish that the damages occurred before Farmers issued coverage.

Mr. Gibson, an attorney with John H. Carney & Associates, asserted that Farmers "thoroughly botched the handling" of the claim - and as a result, their "policy limits were quickly wasted."

Court papers filed on behalf of Farmers and the other defendants deny "each and every" allegation in the Simmonses' lawsuit.

The statement provided to The Dallas Morning News by attorneys for Farmers said that the insurer's policy is not to comment on specific details in a pending lawsuit.

"That said, we can say this about the Simmonses' claim," the statement continued.

"The allegations in the petition are not accurate, and the Simmonses are simply not entitled to receive any more money than what has already been paid on their claim."

"Although there was a question as to the extent and nature of the Simmonses' claimed mold damage, the Simmonses were given the benefit of the doubt, and Farmers paid them their full policy limit for their claimed loss."

The Simmonses counter that much of the damage would not have occurred if the claim had been handled promptly.
Or, that they would not have been in such dire straits if Farmers had totaled the house at the onset.

Faithfully paying insurance premiums, Mr. Simmons said, didn't do a bit of good.

"We are out of our house and are going to remain out of our house for no telling how many more months and months and months," he said.

The case won't come to trial until, at the earliest, next summer.

For the Simmonses, day-to-day life in the shed is a grind and more expensive.

The family routinely eats out. Attempts to prepare meals within the claustrophobic confines of the shed - using a crock pot, small microwave or a hot plate - have not been much of a success.

Most of their personal belongings were placed into storage out of concern that they might be mold-contaminated, including their washer, dryer and dishwasher.

"When they told us to move out, they said, 'Whatever you have on your back is what you take,'" Mr. Simmons recalled.

They now must make frequent trips to the cleaners or a laundry mat. With only a small bathroom sink for cleaning dishes, they rely heavily on disposable dishware, buying in bulk.

Michael's Hot Wheels collection, baseball gear and most of his other toys also are in storage.

He started using his tent in April, when the weather became more temperate.

"It's kind of cool. I have my own space," he said. He sleeps on a cot and has made a second bed out of plastic crates and blankets for friends who stay over.

But Mr. and Mrs. Simmons are not thrilled that he must make do in a tent.

"He's had a rough time," Mrs. Simmons said. "For a child, he's done well, but he's had a lot of problems in school since all this."

His grades temporarily suffered. And more recently, a few kids at his school started making fun of him "for sleeping in the dirt and stuff."

For many years, the Simmonses' extended family, including six grandchildren, have celebrated Christmas at their home.

They expect that tradition will be broken a second time in December.

The family still enjoys one luxury: a hot tub, incongruously located on the patio behind their gutted home.

Not infrequently, the family talks about what it would take to put their lives back together.

Or, at least, what it would take to make their lives more tolerable.

Mr. Simmons is frustrated that his wife and son no longer have a decent house. After decades of hard work, he never imagined it would come to this.

"I'm 57 years old, and I'm living in 260 square feet," he said "A travel trailer has more space than that - plus a kitchen."

Mrs. Simmons said she would like to sleep in a bedroom instead of a shed. She'd like to be able to cook in her own kitchen.

She'd like to be able to send her son to a room when he's grounded.

She'd like a bathroom with walls.

"We don't want to be millionaires," she said. "All we want is our home back."

E-mail etimms@dallasnews.com