BATTLING THE HOUSE RULES; Legal Planners squared off against a St. Martins man over the house he built. After two years in court, a judge ordered an end to the fight, declaring: 'I'm not going to order a 91-year-old man to jail'
ST. MARTINS - Craig Morrison is exhausted now. By the court appearances and the threat of going to jail. By the long legal battle he has waged to build a house for himself and his wife of 66 years.
It has been nearly three years since he broke ground on the lovely parcel of land he owns overlooking the Bay of Fundy in West Quaco, along a road that he created himself and maintained for four decades. But finally, at long last, the Royal District Planning Commission is going to leave him alone.
On Monday, before Justice Hugh McLellan in the Court of Queen's Bench in Saint John, an agreement was reached that allows the 91-year-old and his ailing spouse to live in the home he constructed, mostly while a court-imposed stop-work order was in place, at times without required permits.
"I thought this was a free country, that we had liberties and freedoms like we used to have, but I was sadly mistaken," Morrison said as he sat at his dining room table, the day after his lawyer and solicitors for the planning commission called an uneasy truce. "I feel like a huge burden has been removed from my shoulders, but I am disappointed by the way I was treated.
"All I wanted to do is build a house, and I was treated as if I was some kind of outlaw. I wouldn't wish what happened to me on anybody."
A father of seven with 14 grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren, Morrison is the largest landowner in St. Martins, where he operated a small sawmill for his own purposes for 50 years. A lumberman and cattle rancher who raised purebred beef, his dad managed a farm where the Irving Oil refinery now stands and he remembers taking teams of horses there to cut hay.
In his lifetime, Morrison has built five houses, the last a modest, single-storey bungalow he designed to make it easier for him and caregivers to tend to his wife, Irene Elizabeth, who is stricken with Alzheimer's.
"I'm relieved that it is over, but I never dreamed something like this could happen," Morrison said over lunch, while his granddaughter-in-law, Leanne LeBlanc, fawned over him and his wife and puttered in the kitchen. "Our soldiers fought two world wars to preserve our freedom, but where is it?"
Monday's court appearance was the sixth in two years for Morrison, who had never been to court before his encounter began with the Royal District Planning Commission. As recently as this week, the provincial agency demanded that he and his wife be removed from their house, that the newly constructed premises be bulldozed and that the nonagenarian be found in contempt of court.
Instead, Justice McLellan, who has presided over the case for parts of two years, ordered the lawyers on both sides to negotiate a more reasonable resolution and he barked when barristers for the planning commission seemed to balk.
"I'm not going to order a 91-year-old man to jail and have his wife placed in a nursing home, so you better think outside the box," McLellan warned in court on Monday.
In the end, the planning commission agreed to let the Morrisons live in their new home, provided the commission was absolved of liability if the structure fell down. A notation will also be placed in property records to show that the house does not comply with the National Building Code, meaning it would have to be upgraded before it could be sold.
For nearly three years, Morrison had been engaged in a battle of wills with Wayne Mercer, an inspector with the Royal District Planning Commission, who compiled lists of violations that he alleged rendered the house unsafe.
Among other things, Mercer complained that the lumber Morrison specifically milled for the project didn't carry an appropriate grading sticker, that the windows were not certified, that the roof trusses and floor joists were of questionable pedigree and that moisture was found in the basement.
In a series of affidavits, Mercer asked for the ceiling to be removed to allow for the inspection of roof trusses, requested that drywall be ripped out to allow inspection around windows and doors and requested that wall studs be ripped out.
He also registered concerns about vapour barriers, flashing, siding, concrete supports, the front veranda and the back porch.
"The commission seemed to want to find fault with everything I did," Morrison said. "They were out to get me because I was doing it with my own land and my own lumber and my own trusses and floor joists in my own time. "I'm not flush with money, and didn't want to go into debt, which is why I wanted to use as much of my own stuff as possible. That is how this whole thing began.”
***************************************
Established by a ministerial order in 1988 under provisions of the Community Planning Act of New Brunswick, the Royal District Planning Commission's responsibilities include developing and administering rural plans and zoning bylaws, approving new subdivisions, issuing building permits, conducting inspections and providing planning advice to municipalities, rural communities and the minister of environment.
Overseen by an appointed board of 15 commissioners, the body serves 33,000 residents of five villages and 21 local service districts, and covers an area of 5,800 square kilometers extending from the Bay of Fundy to Grand Lake and from Anagance to the St. John River. The district includes the Kingston Peninsula and the villages of Cambridge-Narrows, Gagetown, Norton, St. Martins and Sussex Corner, but not the larger towns of Hampton and Sussex.
Since its formation, the commission's responsibilities have expanded along with the resources it needs to operate. An original staff of five people has been expanded to a complement of 10, including three inspectors: Brian Shannon, George Paulin and Wayne Mercer.
Overseeing such a large rural area in a largely rural province, the commission sometimes finds itself at odds with landowners and homeowners who believe they should be allowed to do with their property what they wish.
Craig Morrison is one of those people, and the planning commission is relieved to have him out of its hair.
"The Royal District Planning Commission is responsible for the enforcement of the provincial building regulation which includes the National Building Code," Patricia Munkittrick, the agency's director, said in an email on Friday. "The standards of the code are the minimum accepted to meet the objectives of safety, health, access for disabled persons, and fire and structural protection.
"The ideal outcome of the Morrison case would have seen Mr. and Mrs. Morrison occupying a safe home that met the requirements of the National Building Code. Alternatively, the courts could have directed the demolition of the house. Given the age and state of health of Mr. and Mrs. Morrison, no one wanted to see that outcome. The agreement undertaken on Monday will allow the Morrisons to remain in their home. The deficiencies of the home with respect to the National Building Code remain outstanding.
"The RDPC's objective all along has been to ensure that the Morrison home was safe and compliant with the National Building Code and provincial building regulations. While that would have been the ideal outcome, undoubtedly many people will be relieved that this matter is no longer before the courts.
***************************************
The founder of a family-run construction firm, Raymond Debly built his first house in 1953 and has built several hundred since then.
Curious after reading a story in the Telegraph-Journal in 2008 that detailed Morrison's battle to build his own home, Debly called the elderly man and asked if he could inspect the property.
The former principal at an old high school in St. Martins, Debly remembered Morrison and held him in high regard.
"I knew he was an honourable man and had been building things, if perhaps on a relatively small scale, all of his life," Debly said this week. "He didn't strike me as someone who would build something that would hurt himself."
He spent several hours at Morrison's building site and was surprised by what he saw.
"I went through the house from one end to the other and found a few minor things that needed to be addressed, but nothing significant," Debly said. "To me, it looked like a model home.
"I remember telling him, 'Geez, Craig, you've got a really nice house here.'
"Based on the strength of that building, I wouldn't have hesitated to add two more storeys. There was nothing wrong with it.
"It was not about to fall down.
Now 80 and with two sons in the building industry, Debly said he saw no reason for the Royal District Planning Commission to give Morrison a hard time.
In fact, he was so impressed with Morrison's work that he volunteered to write a letter to his lawyer, Gary Fulton, a town councillor in Sussex.
Paid a small sum as a witness, Debly later returned the cheque to Fulton.
"I didn't do it for money," he said. "I did it because I didn't think what was happening to Mr. Morrison was right."
Three decades ago, Debly built a subdivision that contained 70 homes. At the time, he said, the houses cost about $15,000 a piece. Now they sell for approximately $120,000.
"When I built a house, I took the approach that I might never be able to sell it and would have to live in it myself," Debly said. "Because of that, there were never any compromises when it came to quality."
While surveying Morrison's property, Debly found that the construction often exceeded the standards of the National Building Code. Because of that, he does not understand how anyone could come up with a list of violations so lengthy that it would imperil the project.
"I know one of the complaints made was that he was using lumber without a stamp on it, but the lumber he had, old-growth spruce, was better than stamped lumber," Debly said. "Some of the lumber that is stamped, you wouldn't want to use to build a doghouse.
"On top of that, he put in a double floor that you could walk an elephant across, he had a more sophisticated electrical system than the code called for, the trusses he built, he built the old way, the way I did it in the 1960s, and he put in a beautiful concrete foundation.
"The house was built like a fort."
Debly is one of a few experts who inspected materials Morrison used to construct his house, as well as the construction work itself.
In an attempt to satisfy the planning commission, court documents show that an inspector from the Maritime Lumber Bureau was brought in to examine the wood, a technician from Kohler came to inspect the windows Morrison had installed and Morrison's grandson, Jeff LeBlanc, an engineer, fashioned countless mechanical drawings.
After two-and-a-half years of fighting, on Monday the commission was still demanding windows be removed from the house and sent to a laboratory for testing to make sure they adhered to the National Building Code.
Lawyers for the commission referred queries to the director, Munkittrick. A phone message for Mercer, the inspector, was not returned.
"I don't know what to make of it, other than to think that at some point this situation became personal," Debly said. "The guys at the commission were like horses with blinders on.
"They had their noses in the book the whole time.”
***************************************
On Nov. 26, 2009, Craig Morrison appeared before the Court of Queen's Bench in Saint John to face a contempt charge because he had ignored a stop-work order and had continued building his house.
Justice Peter Glennie dismissed the charge, however, after learning that Mercer had written to the Association of Professional Engineers and Geoscientists of New Brunswick asking them to review Jeff LeBlanc's work.
Court documents show that on June 1, 2009, a letter was written by Mercer to the association, the professional body to which LeBlanc belongs, questioning the quality of his sketches and drawings and requesting an opinion that they be evaluated to see if "the work provided was acceptable."
When the case against Morrison came to trial, the commission failed to disclose that a review of LeBlanc's work had been requested and when it was brought to Glennie's attention the judge became so angry that the contempt motion was tossed out.
As a result of the inquiry started by Mercer, court records show that LeBlanc wrote a letter on Feb. 9 of this year to Theresa Teakles, the chairwoman of the Royal District Planning Commission, requesting a formal apology and that Mercer's complaint be withdrawn. LeBlanc also asked for Mercer to be removed as the inspector in Morrison's case, because "I believe Mr. Mercer has taken up personal issues with Mr. Morrison and myself."
The following month, Teakles wrote to then-environment minister Rick Miles, providing details of the complicated case and defending Mercer.
"The request was properly made, and was not an attempt to disparage Mr. LeBlanc, but to determine if the drawings met the standards expected by the Engineering Association," she wrote. "If Mr. LeBlanc's work meets those standards, then he should have no concerns regarding any review by his professional association."
In her letter to the environment minister, Teakles said it would be a bad precedent to remove Mercer from the file and said Mercer did not owe LeBlanc an apology. "Mr. LeBlanc's complaint is an effort to prevent his professional association from reviewing his work on this file," she wrote.
With the case resolved this week, LeBlanc said no apology has ever been offered to him and the Association of Professional Engineers and Geoscientists of New Brunswick confirmed it is still reviewing LeBlanc's drawings.
"This complaint is actively working its way through our normal process," Tom Sisk, the association's director of professional affairs, wrote in an email. "Until this complaint has been fully resolved, we are unable to comment on the outcome or specifics."
LeBlanc, who became involved because he wanted to help his grandfather, is emotionally drained.
"Quite honestly, this has been one of the worst experiences I have ever been through," he said. "There was no reason or logic to what happened.
"When I sat down in court on Monday, I said to the guy sitting next to me, 'How can a man be on the verge of being thrown in jail for trying to put a roof over his head, on his own land, using his own resources?'
"That's wrong at every level.”
***************************************
Last Saturday, Jeff LeBlanc and his brother, Danny, set up a tub containing 7,300 pounds of water in Craig Morrison's living room to prove to the Royal District Planning Commission that the floor boards could withstand the stress.
"I had to pay $500 for that, $300 to get my lumber inspected, $500 for something else," Morrison said. "It got to the point where I said, 'I don't care what they do with me.'
"One time, as I was getting ready to go to court, I told my grandson's wife, 'You might have to come make supper later for mother. I may be going to jail.' "
Over the last several years, Leanne LeBlanc says she has seen the case take a toll on the man everyone in the family refers to as "Grampy."
"It has broken my heart," she says. "He is 91. He didn't need this harassment. He'd get colds that he normally would be able to shake and couldn't shake them.
"He's 91 years old and he'd be out there standing on a ladder working, trying to fix things they complained about. He'd be out there from 8 a.m. until supper every night, and sometimes after supper, too.
"I was just appalled, and everyone else should be, too. The stress it put on him is unreal.
"Threatening to kick a 91-year-old man and his wife out of their new home ... how does that make sense?
For the first time in a long time, Morrison said this week, he felt relieved. He no longer has to worry about being tossed into jail, or thrown out on the street. He doesn't have to worry about his wife being forced into a nursing home, he can finally forget a three-year court battle, essentially over building permits, that created a file 20 centimetres thick.
"All I had behind me was 70 years of experience in building," he said, shaking his head. "I would never build a house that would fall down. What would be the sense of that?
Marty Klinkenberg is the senior writer at the Telegraph-Journal. He can be reached at [email protected].
It has been nearly three years since he broke ground on the lovely parcel of land he owns overlooking the Bay of Fundy in West Quaco, along a road that he created himself and maintained for four decades. But finally, at long last, the Royal District Planning Commission is going to leave him alone.
On Monday, before Justice Hugh McLellan in the Court of Queen's Bench in Saint John, an agreement was reached that allows the 91-year-old and his ailing spouse to live in the home he constructed, mostly while a court-imposed stop-work order was in place, at times without required permits.
"I thought this was a free country, that we had liberties and freedoms like we used to have, but I was sadly mistaken," Morrison said as he sat at his dining room table, the day after his lawyer and solicitors for the planning commission called an uneasy truce. "I feel like a huge burden has been removed from my shoulders, but I am disappointed by the way I was treated.
"All I wanted to do is build a house, and I was treated as if I was some kind of outlaw. I wouldn't wish what happened to me on anybody."
A father of seven with 14 grandchildren and eight great-grandchildren, Morrison is the largest landowner in St. Martins, where he operated a small sawmill for his own purposes for 50 years. A lumberman and cattle rancher who raised purebred beef, his dad managed a farm where the Irving Oil refinery now stands and he remembers taking teams of horses there to cut hay.
In his lifetime, Morrison has built five houses, the last a modest, single-storey bungalow he designed to make it easier for him and caregivers to tend to his wife, Irene Elizabeth, who is stricken with Alzheimer's.
"I'm relieved that it is over, but I never dreamed something like this could happen," Morrison said over lunch, while his granddaughter-in-law, Leanne LeBlanc, fawned over him and his wife and puttered in the kitchen. "Our soldiers fought two world wars to preserve our freedom, but where is it?"
Monday's court appearance was the sixth in two years for Morrison, who had never been to court before his encounter began with the Royal District Planning Commission. As recently as this week, the provincial agency demanded that he and his wife be removed from their house, that the newly constructed premises be bulldozed and that the nonagenarian be found in contempt of court.
Instead, Justice McLellan, who has presided over the case for parts of two years, ordered the lawyers on both sides to negotiate a more reasonable resolution and he barked when barristers for the planning commission seemed to balk.
"I'm not going to order a 91-year-old man to jail and have his wife placed in a nursing home, so you better think outside the box," McLellan warned in court on Monday.
In the end, the planning commission agreed to let the Morrisons live in their new home, provided the commission was absolved of liability if the structure fell down. A notation will also be placed in property records to show that the house does not comply with the National Building Code, meaning it would have to be upgraded before it could be sold.
For nearly three years, Morrison had been engaged in a battle of wills with Wayne Mercer, an inspector with the Royal District Planning Commission, who compiled lists of violations that he alleged rendered the house unsafe.
Among other things, Mercer complained that the lumber Morrison specifically milled for the project didn't carry an appropriate grading sticker, that the windows were not certified, that the roof trusses and floor joists were of questionable pedigree and that moisture was found in the basement.
In a series of affidavits, Mercer asked for the ceiling to be removed to allow for the inspection of roof trusses, requested that drywall be ripped out to allow inspection around windows and doors and requested that wall studs be ripped out.
He also registered concerns about vapour barriers, flashing, siding, concrete supports, the front veranda and the back porch.
"The commission seemed to want to find fault with everything I did," Morrison said. "They were out to get me because I was doing it with my own land and my own lumber and my own trusses and floor joists in my own time. "I'm not flush with money, and didn't want to go into debt, which is why I wanted to use as much of my own stuff as possible. That is how this whole thing began.”
***************************************
Established by a ministerial order in 1988 under provisions of the Community Planning Act of New Brunswick, the Royal District Planning Commission's responsibilities include developing and administering rural plans and zoning bylaws, approving new subdivisions, issuing building permits, conducting inspections and providing planning advice to municipalities, rural communities and the minister of environment.
Overseen by an appointed board of 15 commissioners, the body serves 33,000 residents of five villages and 21 local service districts, and covers an area of 5,800 square kilometers extending from the Bay of Fundy to Grand Lake and from Anagance to the St. John River. The district includes the Kingston Peninsula and the villages of Cambridge-Narrows, Gagetown, Norton, St. Martins and Sussex Corner, but not the larger towns of Hampton and Sussex.
Since its formation, the commission's responsibilities have expanded along with the resources it needs to operate. An original staff of five people has been expanded to a complement of 10, including three inspectors: Brian Shannon, George Paulin and Wayne Mercer.
Overseeing such a large rural area in a largely rural province, the commission sometimes finds itself at odds with landowners and homeowners who believe they should be allowed to do with their property what they wish.
Craig Morrison is one of those people, and the planning commission is relieved to have him out of its hair.
"The Royal District Planning Commission is responsible for the enforcement of the provincial building regulation which includes the National Building Code," Patricia Munkittrick, the agency's director, said in an email on Friday. "The standards of the code are the minimum accepted to meet the objectives of safety, health, access for disabled persons, and fire and structural protection.
"The ideal outcome of the Morrison case would have seen Mr. and Mrs. Morrison occupying a safe home that met the requirements of the National Building Code. Alternatively, the courts could have directed the demolition of the house. Given the age and state of health of Mr. and Mrs. Morrison, no one wanted to see that outcome. The agreement undertaken on Monday will allow the Morrisons to remain in their home. The deficiencies of the home with respect to the National Building Code remain outstanding.
"The RDPC's objective all along has been to ensure that the Morrison home was safe and compliant with the National Building Code and provincial building regulations. While that would have been the ideal outcome, undoubtedly many people will be relieved that this matter is no longer before the courts.
***************************************
The founder of a family-run construction firm, Raymond Debly built his first house in 1953 and has built several hundred since then.
Curious after reading a story in the Telegraph-Journal in 2008 that detailed Morrison's battle to build his own home, Debly called the elderly man and asked if he could inspect the property.
The former principal at an old high school in St. Martins, Debly remembered Morrison and held him in high regard.
"I knew he was an honourable man and had been building things, if perhaps on a relatively small scale, all of his life," Debly said this week. "He didn't strike me as someone who would build something that would hurt himself."
He spent several hours at Morrison's building site and was surprised by what he saw.
"I went through the house from one end to the other and found a few minor things that needed to be addressed, but nothing significant," Debly said. "To me, it looked like a model home.
"I remember telling him, 'Geez, Craig, you've got a really nice house here.'
"Based on the strength of that building, I wouldn't have hesitated to add two more storeys. There was nothing wrong with it.
"It was not about to fall down.
Now 80 and with two sons in the building industry, Debly said he saw no reason for the Royal District Planning Commission to give Morrison a hard time.
In fact, he was so impressed with Morrison's work that he volunteered to write a letter to his lawyer, Gary Fulton, a town councillor in Sussex.
Paid a small sum as a witness, Debly later returned the cheque to Fulton.
"I didn't do it for money," he said. "I did it because I didn't think what was happening to Mr. Morrison was right."
Three decades ago, Debly built a subdivision that contained 70 homes. At the time, he said, the houses cost about $15,000 a piece. Now they sell for approximately $120,000.
"When I built a house, I took the approach that I might never be able to sell it and would have to live in it myself," Debly said. "Because of that, there were never any compromises when it came to quality."
While surveying Morrison's property, Debly found that the construction often exceeded the standards of the National Building Code. Because of that, he does not understand how anyone could come up with a list of violations so lengthy that it would imperil the project.
"I know one of the complaints made was that he was using lumber without a stamp on it, but the lumber he had, old-growth spruce, was better than stamped lumber," Debly said. "Some of the lumber that is stamped, you wouldn't want to use to build a doghouse.
"On top of that, he put in a double floor that you could walk an elephant across, he had a more sophisticated electrical system than the code called for, the trusses he built, he built the old way, the way I did it in the 1960s, and he put in a beautiful concrete foundation.
"The house was built like a fort."
Debly is one of a few experts who inspected materials Morrison used to construct his house, as well as the construction work itself.
In an attempt to satisfy the planning commission, court documents show that an inspector from the Maritime Lumber Bureau was brought in to examine the wood, a technician from Kohler came to inspect the windows Morrison had installed and Morrison's grandson, Jeff LeBlanc, an engineer, fashioned countless mechanical drawings.
After two-and-a-half years of fighting, on Monday the commission was still demanding windows be removed from the house and sent to a laboratory for testing to make sure they adhered to the National Building Code.
Lawyers for the commission referred queries to the director, Munkittrick. A phone message for Mercer, the inspector, was not returned.
"I don't know what to make of it, other than to think that at some point this situation became personal," Debly said. "The guys at the commission were like horses with blinders on.
"They had their noses in the book the whole time.”
***************************************
On Nov. 26, 2009, Craig Morrison appeared before the Court of Queen's Bench in Saint John to face a contempt charge because he had ignored a stop-work order and had continued building his house.
Justice Peter Glennie dismissed the charge, however, after learning that Mercer had written to the Association of Professional Engineers and Geoscientists of New Brunswick asking them to review Jeff LeBlanc's work.
Court documents show that on June 1, 2009, a letter was written by Mercer to the association, the professional body to which LeBlanc belongs, questioning the quality of his sketches and drawings and requesting an opinion that they be evaluated to see if "the work provided was acceptable."
When the case against Morrison came to trial, the commission failed to disclose that a review of LeBlanc's work had been requested and when it was brought to Glennie's attention the judge became so angry that the contempt motion was tossed out.
As a result of the inquiry started by Mercer, court records show that LeBlanc wrote a letter on Feb. 9 of this year to Theresa Teakles, the chairwoman of the Royal District Planning Commission, requesting a formal apology and that Mercer's complaint be withdrawn. LeBlanc also asked for Mercer to be removed as the inspector in Morrison's case, because "I believe Mr. Mercer has taken up personal issues with Mr. Morrison and myself."
The following month, Teakles wrote to then-environment minister Rick Miles, providing details of the complicated case and defending Mercer.
"The request was properly made, and was not an attempt to disparage Mr. LeBlanc, but to determine if the drawings met the standards expected by the Engineering Association," she wrote. "If Mr. LeBlanc's work meets those standards, then he should have no concerns regarding any review by his professional association."
In her letter to the environment minister, Teakles said it would be a bad precedent to remove Mercer from the file and said Mercer did not owe LeBlanc an apology. "Mr. LeBlanc's complaint is an effort to prevent his professional association from reviewing his work on this file," she wrote.
With the case resolved this week, LeBlanc said no apology has ever been offered to him and the Association of Professional Engineers and Geoscientists of New Brunswick confirmed it is still reviewing LeBlanc's drawings.
"This complaint is actively working its way through our normal process," Tom Sisk, the association's director of professional affairs, wrote in an email. "Until this complaint has been fully resolved, we are unable to comment on the outcome or specifics."
LeBlanc, who became involved because he wanted to help his grandfather, is emotionally drained.
"Quite honestly, this has been one of the worst experiences I have ever been through," he said. "There was no reason or logic to what happened.
"When I sat down in court on Monday, I said to the guy sitting next to me, 'How can a man be on the verge of being thrown in jail for trying to put a roof over his head, on his own land, using his own resources?'
"That's wrong at every level.”
***************************************
Last Saturday, Jeff LeBlanc and his brother, Danny, set up a tub containing 7,300 pounds of water in Craig Morrison's living room to prove to the Royal District Planning Commission that the floor boards could withstand the stress.
"I had to pay $500 for that, $300 to get my lumber inspected, $500 for something else," Morrison said. "It got to the point where I said, 'I don't care what they do with me.'
"One time, as I was getting ready to go to court, I told my grandson's wife, 'You might have to come make supper later for mother. I may be going to jail.' "
Over the last several years, Leanne LeBlanc says she has seen the case take a toll on the man everyone in the family refers to as "Grampy."
"It has broken my heart," she says. "He is 91. He didn't need this harassment. He'd get colds that he normally would be able to shake and couldn't shake them.
"He's 91 years old and he'd be out there standing on a ladder working, trying to fix things they complained about. He'd be out there from 8 a.m. until supper every night, and sometimes after supper, too.
"I was just appalled, and everyone else should be, too. The stress it put on him is unreal.
"Threatening to kick a 91-year-old man and his wife out of their new home ... how does that make sense?
For the first time in a long time, Morrison said this week, he felt relieved. He no longer has to worry about being tossed into jail, or thrown out on the street. He doesn't have to worry about his wife being forced into a nursing home, he can finally forget a three-year court battle, essentially over building permits, that created a file 20 centimetres thick.
"All I had behind me was 70 years of experience in building," he said, shaking his head. "I would never build a house that would fall down. What would be the sense of that?
Marty Klinkenberg is the senior writer at the Telegraph-Journal. He can be reached at [email protected].