Building Ownership: It's Never Just the Roof

Like most people who buy a building, I had visions of rental income, appreciating property values, and the satisfaction that comes from owning a piece of a charming downtown.

And honestly, that's not a complaint. It's part of the adventure.

Today, the building is home to a popular and thriving sandwich shop, among other things. The couple that runs the shop—my tenants, I suppose—are absolutely wonderful people. They are exactly the sort of hard-working, kind-hearted, genuinely nice folks that I remember from my time growing up in Wisconsin.

You root for people like this.

You want them to succeed.

And every interaction with them reminds me why I enjoy owning this building.

The Roof Problem

When I purchased the property, the inspection report didn't pull any punches.

The roof was in bad shape.

At some point, I was going to have to deal with it.

That "some point" eventually became "right now."

So I did what any reasonable person would do: I started getting quotes.

A few contractors came out, looked things over, and provided estimates.

Then there was one quote that immediately stood out.

It was nearly double the others.

Most people would probably look at that and immediately toss it aside.

Not me.

I'm an engineer.

I needed to understand why.

Picking Up the Phone

I called the contractor.

The gentleman on the other end couldn't have been nicer. He was patient, kind, and answered every question I threw at him.

And believe me, I had questions.

Eventually, he explained why his quote was so much higher.

Oconomowoc code limits a roof to a maximum of three layers.

In practical terms, that means:

The original roof

One re-roof

And then one final re-roof

After that, you can't simply put another roof on top.

You have to tear everything off and start over.

My building was already at three layers.

This wasn't going to be another re-roof.

This was going to be a complete tear-off and replacement.

Suddenly, the quote made perfect sense.

The Engineer Gets Skeptical

Being an engineer means I have a hard time accepting things at face value.

So I started digging into the city code.

Sure enough…

He was absolutely right.

Maximum of three layers.

No exceptions.

Then it hit me.

The other two contractors hadn't taken the time to do the research.

They were just going to slap another roof on.

Everything would have seemed fine right up until permitting and inspection.

And then things would have gone very badly.

And very expensively.

Trust Matters

I ended up going with the expensive guy.

Not because he had the lowest bid.

Not because he had the slickest sales pitch.

I chose him because he earned my trust.

Honestly, I'm not even sure that was his goal.

I think he was simply doing the right thing.

Following the rules.

Following the code.

Taking the time to understand the project before putting a number on paper.

I've always been a relationship person.

Call me old-fashioned.

Or maybe just old.

But I firmly believe that good relationships are built on trust.

One of the oldest sayings in business is:

People buy from people they know and trust.

That idea has never been lost on me throughout my professional career.

And once again, it proved to be true.

The Brick Conversation

The last time I was at the building, talking with my tenants, they mentioned that there was some crumbling brick on the exterior.

Maybe a few areas that could use some tuckpointing.

Again, I was reminded why I like these people so much.

What other tenants would care enough to point out potential deterioration in a building—especially something that would likely never affect them directly?

Most people would simply ignore it.

Not these folks.

They care.

They take pride in the place.

And that's pretty special.

Well…Why Not?

As we were talking about the roof and the brick work, they mentioned that it sure would be nice if the front of the building got a refresh.

I thought about it for maybe five seconds.

Why not?

After all, if we're fixing the roof and repairing the masonry, why not go all the way?

Why not give the building a fresh coat of paint too?

The reaction was immediate.

She was so excited.

A few hours later, my phone buzzed with a text message.

Pinterest screenshots.

Color combinations.

Ideas.

Lots of ideas.

As it turns out, she has a fantastic eye for what a sharp-looking restaurant should look like.

And almost immediately, we both agreed on a direction.

The Fun Part

I'll be back in Oconomowoc soon to meet with the contractor.

My tenants will be there.

And honestly, I can't wait.

The roof will be solid.

The brick will be repaired.

The building will have a fresh new look.

And I have a feeling it's going to stand out like nothing else on Wisconsin Avenue.

Owning a building is expensive.

There is always something that needs attention.

A roof.

Brick work.

Paint.

Something.

But every once in a while, you step back and realize that you're not just maintaining a building.

You're taking care of a place that matters to people.

A place where a business is thriving.

A place where wonderful people work every day.

A place that has become part of a community.

And suddenly, the costs don't feel quite so much like expenses.

They feel like investments.

Why Do I Care So Much About This Building?

By now, you might be wondering why I seem so emotionally invested in a roof, some brick work, and a fresh coat of paint.

The answer is actually pretty simple.

This building isn't just an investment property to me.

It's a place with a future.

Today, it's home to a thriving business run by two genuinely wonderful people. They've built something special, and I hope they continue to enjoy success for many years to come.

But the reality is that nobody works forever.

Everyone deserves to retire eventually.

And when that day comes, I have a plan.

I'm stepping in.

If you've spent any time reading this blog, you already know that I've been working toward opening a restaurant of my own. You've read about the menu testing, the sandwich experiments, the food costing, the pickling adventures, and all the countless hours spent thinking about what kind of place I want to create.

All of it has been leading somewhere.

Could this building someday become the future home for something else?

Maybe.

Actually… I hope so.

There's something incredibly special about the idea of taking a building that already has a history of serving the community and giving it its next chapter.

A new concept.

New recipes.

New memories.

The same four walls, but a new dream.

So when I spend money on a roof, repair the brick, or paint the front of the building, I'm not just maintaining an asset.

I'm investing in a possibility.

A possibility that one day, when the timing is right and the current tenants are ready to enjoy a well-earned retirement, the next chapter of this building's story might just have my name on the door.

And maybe, just maybe…

the sign out front will read:

G&C Sandwich Company.