Holley

Holley Myers, Josh PS Office Manager

Holley Myers. No, not Holly Meyers. Take the first “e” out of Meyers and slip it into the end of Holly and you get Holley Myers:) Glad we got that settled.

There’s thousands of decisions that go into the design of a house. To get each and every one of those decisions made will take another few additional decisions, monitoring, and attention. Holley oversees that. As we work with clients to design their homes, we recommend certain things in a certain order as part of our process. Holley tracks all of that and manages what we need to do next in our process. She’s our guide… sort of like a human map. In fact, she is a self-proclaimed “map nerd,” and one of her favorite work tasks is compiling a bunch of map data for the properties we work on.

As we first start with a new client, Holley is there to set it up. As we go through the steps of designing the project, Holley tracks the time and decisions that get made. As we reach out to builders for bids, Holley tracks their progress and records their numbers. When we go through all the steps of the permit process, Holley checks in on the building dept to get them moving and makes sure we have updated correspondence from the city reviewers at all times. She also helps us to do the bookkeeping, get surveyors going, track the invoicing, comes up with new ideas for efficient processes, and she keeps all of us in line…to the maximum extent possible.

Holley is extremely organized, learns how to quickly do things she has never done before, and she has an intuition to know what happens before it happens. She is truly amazing, and we are honored to have her.

Where did she come from? She’s a Seattle-area native and is my wife’s (Heather Brincko) longest and best friend. They went to middle school, high school, and college together. Together, they have done just about everything.

She loves playing soccer, photography, the Sounders, her kids, and her husband - not sure what order:) She also has her own photography business doing family portraits. Despite all Holley does, she still manages to help her community by being the president of her homeowner association. I think I already said this, but she is TRULY AMAZING! How does she do it and do it so well?!

We look forward to designing many more great projects with Holley and always endeavor to behave ourselves to make her job easier!!

If you’d like to learn more about our design process, visit www.josharch.com/process, and if you’d like to get us started on your project with a feasibility report, please visit www.josharch.com/help

How Much Does a Home Addition Cost (Seattle 2021)?

***amended for 2023 figures, most builders of full home projects tend to charge around $400 per square foot for entry level construction quality and $600 and up for high end quality. Smaller projects tend to have less economy of scale and can cost more.***

In my practice, we design about 100 residential projects per year, and when it’s time to get the project built, we usually reach out to several builders for construction estimates before we finalize the drawings, get structural engineering, and get building permits. This enables us to get a ballpark sense of what the project might cost to build before spending too much time (client’s money) on the details. In doing so, we often get a range of pricing back from builders, but no matter how many times we advise on what we think it’s going to cost, clients often do not want to believe it (they often think their situation is simpler than everyone else).

We get no financial incentive on the cost of construction as architects. We just design the house per the clients’ requests, advise them on decisions, and create drawings and documents to communicate the goals to the builder. Complexity is mainly what affects cost. Complexity comes in two ways: design complexity and construction complexity. When a client is on a budget, we design a very straightforward solution, so a builder can do simple, repetitive work using inexpensive, familiar materials (a rectangle with painted siding, shingles, carpet, and drywall).

Despite the simplicity of design, the complexity might be more related to the property itself. Is the property on a steep slope? When you dig, can the dirt be dispersed on site, or do you need to pay to truck it elsewhere? Can a concrete truck drive right next to the area of work, or is a big pump truck necessary? Is there anywhere for the builders to park, or will they need to cart tools and materials long distances every day? Is there a place for delivery trucks to easily drop lumber and other materials, or does a crew need to carefully coordinate the material delivery with a crew of laborers to quickly get the truck unloaded and material sorted and stacked while the delivery truck is holding up traffic? Is there space inside and outside the house for builders to spread out materials? Is there complicated demolition that requires parts of the existing house to be temporarily supported during construction? Is the soil mushy and require really deep concrete footings or steel pilings? Is the new addition above an existing part of the house that must be retrofitted and largely rebuilt to meet current codes for structural requirements, energy performance, redoing the whole roof, redoing all the siding, plumbing upgrades, and electrical upgrades?

There is so much that goes into a home addition that affects the cost of construction if you are not building on a simple, large, flat property with an existing house that was not recently/properly built. If any of the factors listed above are involved, it could easily double or triple the cost of typical construction. Projects in the Seattle area almost always have many of those factors, so the construction cost in Seattle is “through the roof.” The size of small projects doesn’t really have that much of an impact on the construction cost. Small projects carry all of the same steps and burdens as large projects, so they end up being really expensive. For example, if you need to update your electrical panel on a total house rebuild or on a small 1-room addition, the cost is the same on each project example to update the electrical panel regardless of the size of the project. There are many scenarios like this in construction where size plays a minor role in cost, and a big project might be marginally different from a small project. The diagrams below outline an example of a simple and a complicated project, and they illustrate the common construction cost estimates we typically see from builders.

CLICK ON IMAGE TO SEE FULL VIEW:

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Easy project

CLICK ON IMAGE TO SEE FULL VIEW:

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Hard project

The Burden of "Hero" (non-architecture post)

​This post explains a life learning lesson after a traumatic event I experienced as explained in the 4-part story that precedes this post here: http://www.josharch.com/blog/tragic-event-part-1

When you help someone or even save their life, it is a major responsibility for you and the other person. The rescued person may feel indebted to the rescuer since the situation warrants more than just the same “thank you” as when someone holds the door open. The rescuer doesn’t need the “thank you“ though. The “thank you” almost sort of adds to the burden of being a rescuer who just happened to be in the right place at the right time. Of course the situation deserves thanks, but in the rescuer’s eyes, the rescuer is simply happy that the other person is ok - or at least better off. When life is on the line, a rescuer defies that. A rescuer steps up and does whatever can be done.

It may even be a simple action like many parents do regularly as their kids do reckless things like playing with an electrical outlet or not looking both ways before crossing the street. Or, it could be the valiant efforts of war vets that put their own life on the line to protect the guy next to them. First responders deal with these situations regularly and rely on the fact that they did their best with the realities of the specific situation. The rescuer wants to see the other person succeed, live on, and not get hurt. The rescuer is just another person who respects humanity. In some situations, the rescuer experiences a traumatic situation to help someone else such as situations in wars, car accidents, and other similar tragedies. The rescuer sees a person in need and basically helps them out of the helpless situation. In doing so, the rescuer briefly shares elements of the tragedy with the person being helped.

The rescuer also understands that the trauma the other person will likely endure after the rescue will potentially require a long road to rehabilitation and even a lifetime of anxiety and stress related to the event. The rescuer is burdened in feeling somewhat responsible for that ongoing trauma and guilty for not having to also endure with any significant amount of trauma compared to the other person. This rescuer understands that the minimal trauma he or she experienced is negligible compared to that of the rescued person, and this burden makes it tough to deal with the situation internally. It’s called survivor’s guilt. The other person went through so much more, so the rescuer feels the need to suppress the emotions since they pale in comparison. The rescued person needs so much more healing, and that is the focus to the rescuer.

Once the rescuer saves someone, the saving doesn’t stop in that moment. The saving continues until the other person is completely healed. The rescuer cannot get that burden eased until it is known that the other person is back to normal. Even then, the rescuer just wants the person to feel normal and not as if they owe anything. The “thank you’s” are warm gestures, but they are also reminders of a debt that the rescuer does not feel obligated to collect. To the rescuer, there is no debt. Once the situation is resolved and everyone is fully healed, this is the only thanks that the rescuer really wants. This is more of a sense of relief than anything else. This eases that burden.

In many situations, the victim may not return back to normal, or they may not even live. Although the rescuer helped them to survive longer than they would have on their own under the unfortunate circumstances, the rescuer feels obligated to achieve a better outcome. The rescuer feels responsible for any outcome that is not the ideal one. The rescuer replays the events over and over and wonders what could have been done differently to make the outcome better. The rescuer wishes for a second chance to do things differently and feels a sense of regret and guilt for it - even though hindsight is 20/20. The rescuer cannot lose the sense of that burden, so the rescuer must learn to cope with it. This is the burden of the “hero.” Regardless of the outcome, the rescuer wishes it could be better, and the coping and memory of the trauma is a lifelong battle for the rescuer. To the rescuer, this is worth it. Despite this responsibility, the rescuer would step in again and not shy away from the opportunity to help someone in need. Nonetheless, the rescuer battles the regrets, guilt, and memory of the traumatic experience that the other person endured.

A message to those who have been helped:

You don’t owe the rescuer anything. Please do your best to heal, and let the rescuer know how that is progressing. The rescuer wants/needs to know that you are well.

A message to others who call someone a hero:

A rescuer just wants the other person to feel better. Calling someone a hero, or even discussing the traumatic event, causes them to relive that situation. Please focus on asking about the victim who was helped. They are the one that has a long road to recovery and needs all the help they can get.

If you would like to read the 4-part story of this tragic event that inspired this essay, it starts here: http://www.josharch.com/blog/tragic-event-part-1

Some have asked what prepares someone for these situations. As far as I understand it, it is similar to anything else: repetition. If you practice something over and over, you become accustomed to it, and it becomes easier each time. While I have never been involved in any experience that I would consider horrendous like many war vets or first responders, I have been involved in a few stressful situations such as a CO poisoning rescue, calling first responders as a kid when witnessing someone get maimed while repairing a lawnmower, and even simpler things things like swimming a long distance from an island to mainland while controlling asthma. Also as a kid, I was on my swing set while policed chased a burglar just feet away from me with guns drawn and had to understand what that meant for my future well-being. I’ve also chased down a burglar to recover the belongings after I witnessed him steal someone’s bag (caught on my dash cam and posted on FB), I’ve called 911 while in my own house after seeing muddy footprints from an intruder on the floor next to a window that got broken into, and I’ve talked down an overwhelmed kid who was laying in the street in the middle of traffic hoping to end his life. Even stressful events at work with many tasks thrown at you simultaneously that require high levels of responsibility all contribute to how someone may react in sink or swim situations. All of these things shape who you are and change how you react to stress in the future.

Staying calm is key, but that doesn’t happen by magic. Some people practice meditation to control their thoughts and others have experienced many tragedies that sort of desensitizes them. Calmness enables you to understand the facts, data, and irrelevant aspects of a situation, so you can react most effectively. Nonetheless, regardless of how prepared anyone may be for tragic situations, the aftermath and road to recovery still takes time and thoughtful commitment to overcome. Our reaction to those situations can result in pity from others or admiration from others. We can’t control what happens to us, but with practice and self-focus, we can control how we react to situations. Choosing to try to react with bravery to overcome adversity will result in the positives that come with admiration. Choosing to remain stuck as a victim will result in pity which carries anger and depression with it. As recently shared with me, the responsibility is on everyone else to come together to help those around us heal after they’ve experienced troubling situations - both during tragic events and after them (thanks Cat).

Tragic Event PART 4: The Aftermath (non-architecture post)

​​​After a traumatic event earlier this year, I’m feeling ready to tell the story (as far as I remember it), so hopefully getting it out of my head will help me with moving on since these events are at the forefront of my thoughts pretty much all the time and also while trying to sleep. I’m doing much better than I was several months ago:) I​ broke ​the story up into 4 parts: the background, the discovery, the aid, and the aftermath. (Part 3 was published at http://www.josharch.com/blog/tragic-event-part-3)

[PART 4] The Aftermath.

Although I was relieved the helicopters were now taking the ladies to the hospital, there were so many feelings rushing through my body. My back hurt. My chest was tight. I had a sense of guilt wishing the outcome could have been better. I had a sense of accomplishment knowing the result could have been much worse had we not been there to help. We were literally finishing up and ready to leave the island when this ordeal started, so there was a lot of luck involved for these ladies since we were minutes away from departing until this happened.

The most challenging feeling was the thought that these ladies may not live or they may never talk or walk again with risk of such severe brain damage after being exposed to CO likely for 36 hours. By helping to rescue these ladies, I knew I would be responsible in some way for whatever outcome that may result. If they died, well, I helped make that happen. If they lived, well, I helped make that happen. If they ended up in a catatonic state for the rest of their lives, well, I helped make that happen. This was a huge burden to carry and didn’t know whether I did the right thing or not. This was nothing I signed up for, and it was certainly all new to me.

As you read this 4 part story, the suspense of the matter was hard to handle. You didn’t want to wait for the next part. I battled those feeling nonstop for the days and weeks to follow as I lived the story and just wanted to know the ending. Actually I didn’t want to know. I needed to know the ending in order to start getting back to normal.

As I pondered this, I started picking up all the garbage around the rescue site. There were medicine wrappers, surgical hoses, rubber gloves, etc. I filled a whole garbage bag with those remnants which were all reminders of the events. I picked them up as fast as I could because I wanted those reminders to be out of sight. I knew this would be a troubling thing to live with as my stomach felt more and more queasy.

Just then, the police officer started asking me questions as he took detailed photos of the shack. To him, it was a potential crime scene. He asked me to explain everything and to give him my contact info. It seemed obvious that there was no foul play, but I guess he had to do his job. Although his questioning made me feel worse, I understood why he had to do it and rule out any crimes. I realized that my answers to his questions were not actually voluntary. My answers were necessary tidbits of information to help him conclude that I or anyone else was not accessory to a crime, and that there simply wasn’t a crime at all. I wanted nothing more than to walk away, but my participation in that aspect seemed necessary to quickly close that chapter.

Once that was done, he thanked me and Taylor. He said, “99% of Americans wouldn’t have done what you just did, and those ladies were lucky you were there. Do you want me to call you if I get any information on their status?” Although I didn’t know these ladies, they now felt like family to me, so I urged him to please send me any updates as soon as he got them. I did receive a few calls from his department to update me, although only limited information could be shared due to medical privacy laws. I found it quite impressive that they took the time to not only check on the ladies, but also to keep me informed. That was both classy and professional. Those are good cops.

The police offered to take the fire fighters off the island on their boat, but something else quite courageous and classy happened. The firefighters kept one of the extra oxygen tanks and were nursing the dog that survived. They volunteered to find a different way off the island just so they could look after the wellbeing of this dog who now didn’t have its owners around. I also learned that some of the other folks on the island gave the deceased dog a more dignified ending. They wrapped it up and buried it nearby. My handling of the dog troubled me greatly as I reflected on it (as explained in Part 2), so I was happy to hear the respect that was given to the dog. Ordinary citizens all worked together to do the right thing and create the best possible outcome.

With the rescue over, and a garbage bag of medical supply remnants in hand, I walked back to David’s cabin as a different person than when I first rushed over hours earlier. I picked up my tools, put the last seal around the new piece of glass I was working on, and set the last window in place. Everything felt heavier. I gathered up my overnight bag, leftover food, tools, and the garbage bag from the rescue site, and hauled them down to the beach as Taylor and David did the same. We loaded up the dinghy and were on our way. As we motored through the Puget Sound, the wind felt different, the bouncing from the waves irritated my insides in a new way, and the scenery that was once just a beautiful backdrop of ocean against rocky cliffs with rows of pines pointing to the sky was now a meaningful reminder of the life-changing events that happened beneath them. Nothing looked or felt the same. We looked at each other a few times and had the same sort of silent and still response: furrowed brow, lips wide and pressed together, head slightly titled downward, and a subtle nod side-to-side with a slow breath in and sigh out as if we were making certain that we consciously appreciated our own breathing. Taylor reached into his bag and passed around a whisky bottle. I wasn’t sure if it was for a commemoration or to provide a moment of numbness, but it seemed appropriate as we all accepted the bonding gesture which was the beginning of a new unity we now have.

We unloaded the dinghy when we got back to shore. We packed our stuff into my truck and loaded the trailer with the one piece of broken glass that didn’t make it to the island. I also tossed in the garbage bag of medical remnants. As I drove into the nearby dump to discard those items, I realized that I would have to get back to life as usual with this heavy cloud on my back. Taylor and I tossed the broken pane of glass onto the heap, and it turned to slow motion as it shattered with a sound wave rushing through my body as if I wasn’t there to stop it. I picked up the garbage bag and chucked it as far as I could as if I was getting rid of something that was haunting me. While it tumbled slowly through the air over mounds of garbage, I thought about getting back to normal things like driving, hugging my family, sleeping, eating, having fun with friends, being a mentor to my coworkers, and being an effective counselor to my clients. I knew those things would all feel different.

In the days and weeks that followed, I did get some further updates on the status of the ladies from the woman who originally discovered them. She knew the owner of the shack, and she was able to share some limited info as it came through. Their status was improving, and it was seeming like they would live. We didn’t know if they were brain damaged or any other detail. We just knew that they were alive, and the reason for their visit to Sinclair Island was for a vacation from out of state (I’m not sharing their names since I don’t have a relationship with them and don’t know if it would be ok). I randomly called around to some local hospitals to see if I could get any more details. Eventually, one of the hospitals said, “yep, they are here. I can’t release any info, but her daughter is here, and I can leave a message with her.” I explained who I was and why I wanted an update, and the nurse on the phone said she would deliver the note right away.

About 1.5 minutes later, my phone rang. It wasn’t the hospital. It wasn’t the daughter. IT WAS ONE OF THE LADIES!!! I was actually talking with her! She didn’t sound sick or anything. It was just like having a conversation with any other living human! I tried not to lose myself because I knew the focus needed to be on her and not on me. I suppressed all emotions except for showing my support. I also didn’t want to share any details because I knew it wouldn’t help in her healing. I let her do the talking, and I basically said I’m here to help, support, and cheer during the recovery. She said she is supposed to make a 100% recovery within about 1 year. I couldn’t believe it. I was so happy and relieved to learn this fact which played a huge role in shedding the burdens I felt. She also shared that the other lady had already been released from the hospital earlier that day and was already on a flight back home. We exchanged contact info, and I sent them encouraging letters later that week.

This was the last I heard from them, but it definitely isn’t the last time I thought of them. I think of them pretty much all the time, and I barely slept for 2 weeks after this ordeal (and also several occasions even to this day as those memories replay in my mind). It has kept getting easier, and the thoughts are not so tough anymore. I have figured out how to handle them. I can’t forget, but I can now think about them without too much stress. I replay those events over and over in my head, and my hope is that this writing will help me to let go, move on, and heal further. After speaking with some war heroes that have been in situations millions of times worse than mine, I know that this will get easier, and there is hope. It has given me a new level of respect for first responders everywhere and the important role they play in our society.

Thank you for those of you that have helped me through this when I’ve had flashbacks, nightmares, daydreams, and other lapses that have been tricky to deal with - especially my loving wife, Heather, who has been patient and supportive as my guiding light. Taylor, David’s wife, Kim, and the woman who had the foresight to find the ladies were also very supportive following these events.

Part of the reason I hesitated from telling this story is I don’t want to be called a hero. I elaborate on this “burden of hero” here if you’d like to learn what I have learned: http://www.josharch.com/blog/burden-of-hero This was actually the first essay I wrote that was inspired by the event. I tried to capture the feelings that the event caused, but later, I decided to write parts 1-4 in detail to further assist in the healing. At work, when I write something down, it clears my head space for new tasks. I’m hoping these writings have the same effect.

Final thought: Install a carbon monoxide detector in your home on each floor level in a hallway. Don’t wait. It takes 10 seconds to buy and install. Those 10 seconds could save your life, your spouses life, or your baby’s life. Don’t be a dumb dumb. Go on Amazon right now and buy one:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00M48BH30/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_glt_fabc_5NFQS31DD8KXDCRD9Z56

thank you:)

Tragic Event PART 3: The Aid (non-architecture post)

​​After a traumatic event earlier this year, I’m feeling ready to tell the story (as far as I remember it), so hopefully getting it out of my head will help me with moving on since these events are at the forefront of my thoughts pretty much all the time and also while trying to sleep. I’m doing much better than I was several months ago:) I​ broke ​the story up into 4 parts: the background, the discovery, the aid, and the aftermath. (Part 2 was published at http://www.josharch.com/blog/tragic-event-part-2)

​[PART 3] The Aid.

After we moved the ladies out of the cabin and into a shaded area outside, we needed to decide what to do next. Step one was to call for help, and it was clear we needed helicopters. David was on the phone with rescue personnel as we tried to convey the vital signs to 911. He looked for the pace of breathing by watching the subtle movements of their stomachs. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. This helped 911 understand the severity of the situation and gave them the clues needed to explain to us how to be helpful until help could arrive. They were also trying to assess the likelihood of survival to determine if they should send helicopters or not.

This made me consider the regretful feelings of potentially “saving” a future “vegetable.” If these ladies were already brain dead and potentially in a catatonic state that you cannot recover from, I thought about the possibility that they would be in a coma or wheelchair for the rest of their lives while their family would need to deal with some harsh realities. This was a brief thought at that moment that I quickly dismissed, but the same thought kept returning to haunt me.

During this time, I was kneeling next to one of the ladies as I propped her head back to keep her airway open and make it as easy as possible for her to breathe since oxygen was the essential need. We also held cool rags against their necks and foreheads to cool them down while also wetting their dry lips. Her breathing started to improve slightly now that we were in fresh air, but there was still no response to my shouting her name, asking her to squeeze my hand, or getting her eyes to track my finger. Occasionally she would dry heave, and this was so great to hear since it represented a sign of life. Coughing is something that living humans do, so this made me so hopeful. As she dry heaved, I tilted her head to the side to ensure any liquid would exit and not block her airway. The other lady was not responsive either, and she was not making any apparent signs of improvement such as deeper breathing or dry heaving.

At this time, we had a good crew of caregivers. The woman who found the ladies and a few others were able to help one lady stay as comfortable as possible while I helped the other. She also found their wallets with ID, so we could talk to them by name. It seemed more humane to say their names over and over and to reassure them that we were doing everything we could do to help. David stayed on the phone with 911 and figured out a location where a helicopter could land. This became my hope. Just knowing a helicopter would come with medics and oxygen was so reassuring. Time kept passing, and we kept hoping.

After about an hour and a half to two hours of kneeling, bending over, and holding a fragile life in my arms, we heard helicopter blades beating the wind in the distance. The joy was overwhelming to hear this.

The helicopter circled to spot the landing place, and returned as it floated nearly sideways above the beach as it landed into a grassy field in front of another cabin a couple hundred yards away. It seemed to take a long time for the medics to arrive from the landing spot. I expected urgency and running, but this was not the case. Were the medics expecting it to be too late? Was coming to the island just a formality? I was told that helicopters are only sent if there’s a good chance of survival, so this kept my hopes high although the slow moving medics were somewhat deflating to that hope.

When the 2 medics arrived on site, I gave them a summary of the events. It became clear to them that the other lady was in worse condition, and they devoted their attention to her. They asked me if I had any medical training. I said, “no. I have only taken a first aid course for coaching soccer.” Their response was, “good! Here you go.” They shared me some medical equipment that I’ve never seen or used before. I repeated to them: “I said no. I don’t have medical training.” Their response was, “it ideally takes 3 people to resuscitate a person, so we need you.” This was not what I was mentally prepared to hear. I thought helicopter medics meant everything was going to be all better. That’s when I realized that this was just the beginning.

They gave me a breather bag which is a plastic bubble that you put over the mouth and nose to squeeze air into someone’s body. They said, “we only have 2 medical kits in the chopper, and this one is a pediatric kit. You take this one and watch us as we help the other one. You will need to try and pinch her nose while you breathe for her because this bag is too small for her.”

I watched them pump air into the other lady, and I tried to match their pace as I pumped air into “my patient.” They said, “bag… bag… bag…” each time I needed to squeeze, but they were too preoccupied to give clear directions to me. Although I barely knew what to do, I realized that it wasn’t so much about a pace, but rather to try and match the natural flow of inhaling and exhaling of the patient. When she started to breathe in, I slowly but firmly squeezed the bag, and as she exhaled, I released the bag so the air could be removed from her lungs. I was controlling her lungs. The two medics were doing the same thing to the other patient, but they had an oxygen tank hooked up to their breather bag. They also started hooking up an electronic monitor to their patient while I pumped and pumped and hoped I was doing it right. With the pediatric sized breather bag, it was tricky to prop her head back to keep a straight airway while also pinching her nose and fitting the small plastic pediatric-sized cover over her adult-sized mouth. That cover should cover the nose and mouth if it was properly sized. Occasionally one of the medics would come over to help me by hooking up the only oxygen tank we had for a few minutes.

As we did this, the medics were in communication with 911 trying to get a second helicopter since the chopper could only take one patient. At this point, we were over two hours into the ordeal, and about everyone on the island (about 10 people) came in to help. For awhile, someone helped me squeeze the breather bag, while I focused on stabilizing the head, keeping the airway open, and pinching the nose shut. At no time during this ordeal did I feel confident in my ability to help, and I just wanted the medics to take over. They insisted that I kept going.

We eventually heard the sound of the second helicopter in the distance, and there was discussion as to where the helicopters would take the ladies since a bariatric chamber large enough for both of them would be essential since their condition was too fragile for them to take turns in the chamber which uses pressure to force oxygen back into their bloodstreams.

When the second helicopter landed, the medics actually rushed over. It was a different sort of urgency with this group. As they came in, they checked in with the other medics to get a status check, and I stood up as I was relieved to let them get to work. As I stood up, three sensations rushed through my body. I was more relieved than I had ever been just knowing that this ordeal was done for me since the actual medics were taking over. It was such a relief to know that someone’s life was not in my hands. Also, after being on my knees, crouched over, on the ground, with extreme adrenaline-fueled focus for over 2.5 hours, pulsating pains starting shooting up my back. It made it tricky to stand up straight after being hunched down for so long. I bent over with hands on my knees and face looking down which caused suppressed tears to gush out of my eyes. As the pain rushed up my back, my mind had the first chance to realize what had just happened, and what we did. It was also the first chance I had to look around. I looked over at the woman who first discovered the ladies, we locked eyes, and I broke down into full tears knowing her vigilance and bravery of finding them made this whole situation possible. She gave me one of the best hugs I’ve ever had right when I really needed it most. It was also an awkward time to be hugging since I hadn’t hugged someone outside my household in over a year due to COVID. This sense of care kept me going.

Just seconds after I started to collect my thoughts again, the new medics called me back in to help. It was the last thing I expected to hear. I had already mentally checked out and prepared myself to be finished. The hug already sealed my stopping point. The medic said he needed me to continue with the breather bag while he hooked up the electronic monitor and proceeded with next steps. He also had an oxygen tank. Reluctantly, yet willingly, I got out of my own head, I got focused again, and I crouched back down on the ground and ignored the back pains which I knew were just a selfish inconvenience given the circumstances.

Once he got the monitor hooked up, he could get a reading on the vital signs, and the metric he was most focused on was the oxygen level in the blood. I recall it being around 29%, and he said we needed to get it up to around 70% hopefully to be stable enough to get her in the helicopter. He tried various things including shots of medications to get the vitals to change, and he explained how I could pace the breathing to benefit that process. He also shoved some sort of rubber nasal hoses into her nose to keep that airway open since the larger breather bag he had did properly fit over the nose and mouth. Part of my job was to push those hoses back into her nose each time they worked their way out since her mucous worked as a lubricant.

The next step was to intubate the patient. This is the process of sticking a breathing tube down the throat and into the lung to get the oxygenated air directly to that vital region. He asked me to prop her head in a certain way and hold things in certain places as he carefully guided a video scope, clamp, and breathing tube down past her vocal chords and into her lung. It was not easy to find the right path, I noticed. He warned me that when the intubation was complete, her vital signs on the monitor would drop substantially, but not to worry because they would quickly recover. He was right. That exact thing happened, but I still panicked inside when the vitals dropped. He reattached the breather bag to the breather tube, and I was now pumping oxygenated air directly into her lungs. His partner bounced back and forth between helping me and helping the other medics. Their professionalism kept me calm, and I knew we were in good hands. The blood oxygen level was starting to increase, and the discussion shifted to figuring out a departure strategy.

They were still going back and forth with 911 on where the ladies would be transported, but eventually they had a plan. The ladies were eventually in a stable enough condition to be lifted out of there. I didn’t have anything left in me to carry the ladies to the choppers a few hundred yards away, but at that time, a police boat with 1 cop and 2 off duty firefighters had arrived. Between them, the medics, and the other people around, there was enough help to safely carry the ladies away while hooked up to their life support apparatuses.

As I watched them get carried away and the helicopters take off, the last phase of this ordeal started. The aftermath was the longest phase and is described in Part 4 of the story: http://www.josharch.com/blog/tragic-event-part-4

Tragic Event PART 2: The Discovery (non-architecture post)

​​After a traumatic event earlier this year, I’m feeling ready to tell the story (as far as I remember it), so hopefully getting it out of my head will help me with moving on since these events are at the forefront of my thoughts pretty much all the time and also while trying to sleep. I’m doing much better than I was several months ago:) I​ broke ​the story up into 4 parts: the background, the discovery, the aid, and the aftermath. (Part 1 of the story was published at http://www.josharch.com/blog/tragic-event-part-1)

[PART 2] ​The Discovery.

As I approached the door of the 10’x10’ “cabin”, I noticed the foggy windows. I could barely see inside because there was so much condensation. I also felt creepy looking into someone’s windows. I knocked. No answer (obviously), but I felt obligated to knock since I didn’t want to believe there were dead people in there. I yelled, “I’m Josh, I’m here to help you” as I opened the door. I looked down, and I saw two lifeless unclothed bodies, a (very) dead stiff dog, and a struggling dog that was responsive. They were all laying on the floor atop sleeping bags. The bunk bed was empty, and the single room cabin smelled like death (whatever that smells like). It was the combination of sweat, urine, blood, and no ventilation whatsoever.

My first thought was to go verify that the bodies were dead. It seemed like a textbook thing to do although they were obviously not alive. I said “hello hello hello” a few times as I balanced through the tiny cabin stepping over items on the minimal floor space toward the first lady thinking about how scary and disturbing it would be to try to take a pulse from a lifeless body. With no floor space to stand on, I straddled over top of the lady and started to bend down toward her. As I got closer, her stomach moved and she gasped!

My mind raced. What should I do next? I was about to yell for Taylor to come help me move her out of that space, but I didn’t get a chance. As I pondered what to do, Taylor came in the back door. As he jiggled the door handle, the second lady’s eye, which was wide open, blinked. Taylor and I looked at each other as we both noticed they were alive!

We looked around the cabin to see what was happening. No guns. No drugs. No pills. No needles. Not even any alcohol on the table or refrigerator. I told him it must be carbon monoxide, and we should turn the gas off and get them outside immediately. Taylor found the shutoff valve for the propane tank as I noticed the refrigerator, stove, and hot water tank were all powered by propane. I also noticed there was not any ventilation. There were no windows that could open. That’s when I realized these ladies probably went to sleep Thursday night, missed their boat Friday morning, laid there all day Friday, and had been inhaling carbon monoxide until this moment around noon on Saturday.

The ladies were both laying on mattresses on the floor. It must have been too hot and stuffy to stay on the bunk beds with no ventilation, so I assume they stripped down and slept on the floor to stay cool. This worked to our advantage. We were able to lift the first lady by lifting the mattress and carrying her outside on top of it. While we started to do this, the living dog was confused and snippy. It took a few bites at us. The dead dog was keeled over atop of the lady we were about to lift. As we lifted her, I noticed the insides of the dog were coming out of its mouth. I told Taylor to pause as I lifted the stiff, lifeless dog by its rear leg. I intended to gracefully and respectfully set it outside, but it “spilled” as I carried it. I ended up tossing it out the door to prevent making a mess on top of the lady. I felt so sad for the way that happened as I focused my attention back to helping Taylor pickup the lady.

We carried her out of the shack by the mattress, set her down in the grass, and quickly went to do the same with the other lady. At that time, a few people started to gather. The woman who found the ladies rushed off to get some water and towels, and her husband helped Taylor and I carry the other lady outside. Although we got both ladies outside, they were still unresponsive, there was not yet noticeable signs of regular breathing, and their pulses were very faint. They felt very hot.

No matter what I did or said, I could not get the ladies to respond in any way. They wouldn’t talk, blink, or squeeze my hand when requested. They just laid there dead and pale looking with eyes wide open and lips crusted. Where we set them down in the grass outside the shack, I noticed my head was casting a shadow on their face. When I moved my head, the direct sunlight made their eyes subtly close. They shut about 3/4 of the way when the sun hit them, and they slowly opened back up when I shielded the sun from them. This made me so happy to see some sort of response even though it was just a partial blink. This gave me hope even though the eyes never moved, never focused on me, and never tracked my finger from side to side.

Next, we moved them into the shade since it was a really hot, sunny day, and it was clear they would be more comfortable in the cool shade. This is when the next decisions of the rescue would decide the fate of these ladies. Part 3 of the story explains the aid efforts in further detail: http://www.josharch.com/blog/tragic-event-part-3

Tragic Event PART 1: The Background (non-architecture post)

​After a traumatic event earlier this year, I’m feeling ready to tell the story (as far as I remember it), so hopefully getting it out of my head will help me with moving on since these events are at the forefront of my thoughts pretty much all the time and also while trying to sleep. I’m doing much better than I was several months ago:) I broke the story up into 4 parts: the background, the discovery, the aid, and the aftermath.

[PART 1] The Background.

Just before summer (2021), I went up to Sinclair Island with my friend Taylor and my wife’s uncle David to assist in replacing some windows on his beach cabin. Several months earlier, I accidentally broke a spare pane of glass while I was painting their bedroom, so we figured we would buy many pieces of replacement glass to update several of their aging windows at the same time. It was quite the ordeal because there’s no bridge or ferry service to the island, so we had to transport giant pieces of fragile material from trailer, to beach, to dinghy, to beach, and to house.

Upon arrival (4 out of 5 glass pieces made it successfully), we had a beer after the strenuous work of moving heavy glass in a little dinghy on the ocean. As we made our work plan and settled down after the nerve wracking trip, that evening, someone came up to the house and asked if we had seen 2 ladies walking around since they missed their charter boat to take them off the island earlier that morning. We said no, and explained that we recently arrived and saw nobody as we were focused on working on the windows.

Sinclair island is a really small place. It’s easily possible that you could visit and never see another person - maybe because you ARE the only person there. Being on Sinclair island is quite relaxing since it’s so secluded and inaccessible, but this also makes it a survival sort of situation. There’s no stores. No doctors. No repairman. No groceries. If you didn’t bring it, you don’t have it. Only you can provide for yourself. There’s no help.

Most people get to the island via a boat that they hire which pulls up to the beach. They throw you and your stuff off and say goodbye, and there you are, standing there on the beach with your food and belongings to hopefully last you through your whole stay. As the boat drives away, the first thing I always think is, “I hope they don’t forget to pick us up, and I hope we have enough food.”

That paints a picture of how odd it seemed that someone walked up to us and said there were 2 mid-aged ladies missing. A. We saw a person. B. There’s two people missing. C. There’s really nowhere to go and get lost on the tiny island, so we thought they probably just lost track of time and missed their boat and went for a walk, or randomly met someone and went out fishing, or whatever. Something caused these ladies to miss their boat, but everything we knew was from the guy that informed us who was just a middle man. He got a call from the person on the mainland that expected to see the ladies arrive, so he was just checking up on behalf of that person. He didn’t know who these ladies were, and neither did we. This was the only detail we knew. So we said we would keep an eye out, and he went on his way.

After he left, we chatted about the encounter for a moment, but we shrugged it off as 2 ladies on vacation got into the slower island time and likely found something more fun to do than catch an early boat. We made ourselves a nice dinner after a hard day of work and explored the island a little before we went to bed.

The next day, we had a nice breakfast, worked all morning, and got finished installing the last window around noon. As I was cleaning up my supplies, I noticed a woman had approached the house, and she started talking to David. She looked concerned. David is sort of like a “mayor” or “elder” on the island. He’s been in the area a long time, and people know that he understands how things work.

I overheard the woman mention dead bodies and asked who to call to look into that since there’s no police or anything like that on the island. I overheard them mention calling various authorities, and then she described what she encountered. She noticed really foggy windows on a cabin, so she decided to peek inside since this was odd that no other windows on other cabins were foggy. When she peeked in, she saw 2 bodies on the floor and believed them to be dead.

When I heard this, I dropped everything because I had remembered the story of the 2 ladies that missed their boat the day before, and I thought the foggy windows could be a sign of breathing. Respiration makes fog. I asked where the cabin was, and she pointed to a small 10’x10’ shack directly next door. I told Taylor to look for an orange medical kit that I remembered seeing, and I ran over to the shack.

This moment changed my life forever. Part 2 of this story explains this discovery in more detail: http://www.josharch.com/blog/tragic-event-part-2

Mistakes To Avoid When Working With An Architect

If you are working with an architect, this is your guide to help prevent problems with your working relationship. I personally service about 100 clients per year, I have been working in the profession since the 90’s, and I have had 4 previous clients who got upset with me. I’m no expert in what to do when things go wrong, but I do have a good track record on how to keep things good. So where do things go wrong? In my experience, here’s what I’ve encountered:

1. Money. This is the main stressor for most people. I had a client who got upset because we wanted them to pay us on time. We charge hourly for our time, and we send a bill at the end of each month for the time we spend working on our client’s behalf (within an estimated amount discussed ahead of time). After about 8 months of working together, this client paid their first 4 invoices about 2 months late. After the next 4 months, they didn’t pay their final four invoices despite many many many reminders we gave them. Once it got close to the 3 month late period, we let them know we would no longer do any further work until we were paid, and we also issued late fees according to our agreed terms. The client was happy with our work and continued to ask us to do more work - they just quit paying. We kept reminding them to pay, but they would not answer any money questions. They would only communicate with project-related questions. So, we next warned them that we would have our attorney file a lien against their property if they didn’t at least respond with a plan to pay us. They still didn’t respond with a plan. Then we started the process with the attorney, and we showed the client the lien paperwork with a notice that we would file it at the end of the week. They responded immediately, and they were mad to say the least. They owed us for our work and our attorney’s fees (according to the terms of our agreement). I consulted with mentors and other professionals to look at the situation before proceeding, and they all agreed that we should file the lien. Then the client eventually paid us, but they would not pay for the legal fees that we encountered due to their non-communication. So, we had to file the lien to recover those legal and lien fees we incurred. That was the last thing we wanted to do, and we even gave the client payment options such as a payment plan, an ownership share in their development project, and a few other options. They just didn’t respond. Silence. There was nothing for us to do but to file the lien since there’s time limits for that sort of thing. So what’s the moral of the story? Be communicative! If there’s an issue, talk to one another, so you can both plan accordingly. We were well under budget on this project and the client was happy with the work, so it was rather confusing that the client would wait so long to pay us since they actually expected to pay much more than we ever billed them.

2. Money. Another time, a client was upset because we billed them for our time that they asked us to spend. They claimed they didn’t want that work done yet, but they emailed us (in writing) that they wanted the work done. In this situation, the client requested two weeks earlier NOT to do that specific work. Then after two weeks passed, they emailed us again asking us to do that work. It’s in writing. First it says hold off. Then next it says to do it. I even followed up with an email that said, “ok we will get started on that work for you.” The client still didn’t want to pay for the work they requested because they claimed we didn’t listen to their initial request. We claimed that we did listen to the initial request (which is why we did not work on their project for 2 weeks), and we also did listen to the second request to continue with the work. They said that second request was meant to be just an FYI for when they authorize the work to proceed. I asked why their email said to update the drawings with a long list of requests, and why they didn’t oppose my followup email that said we would get started. They just said we didn’t listen. I asked several mentors and professionals to look over the correspondence, and they all agreed it looked like a clear authorization to proceed. The client got really nasty and started with name-calling. I just responded by offering to get a 3rd party mediator to review the situation since that is what our contract says. This irritated the client even more. I think this worried them since it would have been obvious to a 3rd party that they were incorrect. So what’s the moral of the story? Be clear! I don’t know what I could have done to be more clear, but communication is definitely key. This is why I followup EVERY call and email with a quick note about what I’m going to do before I do it. I was actually way under budget on this project too, and the client was happy with the work. It’s rather weird that a client would act this way, but I sense they just ran out of money.

3. Money. Noticing a pattern? People get concerned about money. I had a client that asked us to do some work over the phone. It was a very small project that would only require a few hours of work. Usually we send out a contract for signature before we start working. In this case, the client needed our quick help, so she emailed us the existing plans of the house, told us what to do over the phone, and we explained how much it would cost before we spent a couple hours on the small project. We got the limited amount of work done and emailed it to her with our bill. She didn’t pay it, but then she asked us to do even more substantial work. We decided to send over the contract for her to sign before we continued working (like we normally do). Once we sent it, she said, “I never signed this, and I never asked you to do the previous work. So it’s not authorized, and I’m not paying you.” I said, “why did you tell me to do the work over the phone and email me the drawings of the existing house? And why did you ask us to do more work after we did the initial work (and say it looks great)? And why did you ask us to do more work after you got our first bill?” She just didn’t have an answer and ghosted us. She was using the fact that we didn’t sign a contract yet to believe that she didn’t need to pay us for the work that she requested verbally and via email. In the end, we did convince her to pay what she owed, but it was not easy. So what’s the moral of the story? Sign the contract before starting any work. It’s unfortunate that this type of thing happens once out of 1000 projects, but it affects all projects thereafter. As the saying goes: one bad apple ruins it for all.

4. Money (again)! If it isn’t clear by now, people get stressed about money. We all do. In this circumstance, we designed an addition for someone, and we got through the very preliminary steps to enable us to have something drawn for builders to look at to give us rough estimates to build the project. As an architect, I don’t have control over what things will cost. Only a builder can agree to build something for a certain price. I can only guide people in the right direction to keep their project reasonable and hopefully in the right ballpark based on my previous experience with something similar. In this instance, I told the client that the addition they wanted us to design would generally be at least $300 per square foot to build. They were ok with that. The problem is that before you start designing a project, there isn’t a specific size or solution yet. You need to design it to know how big it is and how much it might cost. You can’t put the cart before the horse. You need to design something to know what it might cost. The key is to do as little designing as possible to get to a point where you have some basic drawings to invite builders to offer rough pricing. In this case, the client kept adding and adding and changing despite our plea to tone it down because they were already on a tight budget. They were also on a tight lot where the design solution was very tough to fit on the property within the zoning codes. Again, we needed to design something, so we could see if it would need tweaked to fit properly on the property. Once we designed it, we could then see if there’s any specific items that we would need to make smaller to get other things to fit within setbacks from property lines. After making these tweaks, the client would then make more changes, and this process went on for many months. Each time they asked for a change, we emailed them, “I suggest we not make any further changes to the drawings until we first get preliminary pricing from a builder to know if we are on budget or not since these subtle design changes do not have significant construction cost impacts, but they do cost more to design each time you request them. Let’s first get an idea of construction cost, and then let’s dial in the design accordingly just in case the construction cost necessitates the scope being reduced significantly.” Despite our repeated warnings, he did not heed our advice and kept asking for more and more design tweaks. Eventually we got to a point where we could get pricing, and some of the builders’ estimates were way over budget and others were just slightly over budget. That is normal actually. In discussions with the builder who was pretty close to the desired budget, we figured out what we could change about the project to keep it on budget. This required us to tweak the drawings again, as expected (and as explained to the client about 20 previous times). This angered the client, and he got really sassy with us. I think it was more of a case of realizing he was wrong despite all the verbal and written warnings we gave him that we predicted this would happen. So what’s the moral of the story? Listen to your architect! We do this same process over and over and over again. We know what will happen next before it happens. We know when it makes sense to take a risk. We know when we need to pause the process to check with others in the industry for further guidance. At the end of this one, the client was treating me and my staff really nasty, so I told him we cannot associate with people that behave like that. I set him up with everything we did for him, so a new builder and new architect could easily pickup where we left off. I said I would be happy to answer any questions that may come up and advise throughout the duration as he works with another firm. I don’t know what we could have done any differently here. Sometimes people just cannot get out of their own way despite the highly experienced advice that is offered to them.

In summary, the problems listed here are all the outliers. 4 times out of about 1000 projects. That’s not bad and problems should be expected. We have been very diligent about being very clear communicators since that is the root of all these problems. It does take 2 to communicate properly though, and people can have different communication styles. Since we do take our own communicating seriously, we always try to ensure our client communicates with us clearly too, so we can avoid problems. That has been very successful in the past 20 years.

If you’d like to learn more about our design process, visit www.josharch.com/process, and if you’d like to get us started on your project with a feasibility report, please visit www.josharch.com/help