Delaware - 5/00. I was not sure where to start my story and decided that as all stories start at the beginning, so must this one. It is about the American Dream and how it was taken from an honest and trusting man.

Some 50 years ago or perhaps even more, my parents began planning their dream home.  It was to be the home that they would grow old in and eventually die in. Being children of the depression, they did not believe in borrowing money or owing anyone for anything.  So it was that they rented their homes for years. Then the dream began to take shape.  They saved and began designing their home.  My mother was an artist, which was a tremendous benefit in designing their home.  First one design, then another, until finally they hit upon their ideal home.
Next came the selection of the property where they would build this home.  A new development opened which was perfect for the placement of their home.  As with most developments, the property had been a farm, with open pastures and rolling hills.  They purchased a piece of property on the highest point, and so the dream became reality. It was a modest brick ranch, with a full basement and one and a half car garage under the home. Half the basement was an unfinished recreation room with a fireplace and the other half was a workshop with a half bath. Upstairs were three bedrooms, 2 full baths, cedar closet, family room, living room, and kitchen, with a see-through fireplace between the family room and the living room. In the living room was one wall of glass sliding doors, which overlooked the yard and the hills.  Knowing that this home would be their retirement home as well as their legacy, Mother and Dad spent extra money on the construction of the home, using the best lumber available. We moved into this home when I was 12 years old, and so it was my childhood home.

My mother died shortly before my father was able to retire, so she never grew old in the home. She did, however, spend many happy years in the home, constantly making improvements and entertaining with many, many parties, from formal to informal. There was no doubt that mother’s influence was ever present.  I could go on forever with memories; but this story is not about my memories, it is about a dream that was taken from an average middle class family.

Approximately 10 years ago, my father called to inform me that he had discovered termites. I was shocked, and the thought frightened me as I had heard what termites can do to a home.  I can still hear Dad say, “Sweetie, don’t worry. I have called Terminix, and they will be out to treat the house. The termites will not destroy it.  It won’t fall down around me.”  I trusted my father and his judgment for he was a very smart man, and who better to treat the house than Terminix?

So it was, Terminix treated the house; and Dad took out a yearly contract with them. Simply stated, for the price of the contract, Terminix would re-treat the home as needed and pay for any new damages as a result of new infestations. For nine years, because there was visible evidence of new termite infestation, Terminix was called every year except one.

About three years ago, my father became very ill; and about two years ago, he had failed to the point where I took over his general care and seeing his bills were paid. The Terminix contract became due; and as I was reading the contract, I found the clause that states: “Provide for repairs or replacement of new subterranean termite damage to the structure and contents of the identified property as long as the contract is in force.” Dad was not aware of this clause but was aware that there had been additional damage.  At that time, I had to make a decision as to what was best for my father. Did I want to drag him through a battle with Terminix, or did I want to protect him in his weakened condition?  I did what I believe to be the right thing; I chose to let this slide and continue to see that his last days were as happy as could possibly be.

In December of 1997, we convinced Dad that he needed a new roof. After all, he had 30-year shingles on the house; and the house was at least 40 years old.  So under minor protest, Dad had a new roof put on.

In February of 1998, my father died. Being an only child, I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. Now was the time to contact Terminix to see what if anything they would do to help us. My husband called the local office and made an appointment for the manager to come out to the house. The appointment was broken at least once, but finally we did have the meeting.

Perhaps the one positive outcome of our meeting with Terminix was that the manager admitted there were live termites and that the house would be retreated.  He stated that it would be done the following week.  I believe it took two or three weeks for that to happen.  This time, when they came to treat the house, they dug a trench all around the home, poured chemicals in it as well as drilling in the foundation in the basement and putting chemicals in the holes and filling them back in.

Basically, the outcome of that meeting was that the manager stated that everything was old damage; but he did ask what kind of money we were looking at.  We told him we didn’t know for sure at that point, because our contractor hadn’t given us a price for repairs.  I was feeling desperate.  I had just lost my father, and all I could think was that I needed to save my home no matter what the cost.

The contractor came over and spent several hours assessing the damages.  More bad news.  While he felt that the home could be saved, the damages were extensive.  We attempted to contact Terminix as we felt they were a reputable company and would stand behind their contract and would at least help with the expense.  We knew that there was previous damage, and we weren’t looking to them to foot the entire bill, just to help in some fair way.  Then the nightmare began. The manager would not return our calls; and when we did speak with him, he always had an excuse as to why he hadn’t returned our calls. He had passed the claim on to his Risk Management people, the lawyers were involved; and he assured us he would be in touch shortly. Finally, we were forced to find an attorney. We could see that we were getting nowhere fast and this was beginning to drag on and on.

We located an attorney and set up a meeting. With our documents in hand, my heart on my sleeve, we began our fight with Terminix.  Our first meeting, I must admit, was not at all what I had hoped it would be.  Our attorney was reluctant to take the case stating that it was a very difficult case to prove because of the prior damage and because Dad was deceased and not able to testify.  My heart sank, but I continued to argue that there was a case but also admitting that I didn’t know how much of a case we had. We asked if he would at least go out to the house and take a look at the damage.  He agreed.  I had to convince him that Terminix had not treated the house properly for termites to still be alive and eating away after nine years of treatment.  Before leaving his office that day, we had been to the house, and I had turned over all the papers pertaining to Terminix and Dad’s death. I was elated he agreed to take the case but very cautious and not optimistic about the outcome.

Our attorney sent the local Terminix office a letter advising them that he now represented us and requesting that the manager contact him in hopes of resolving this matter. They ignored his requests just as they had ours. Finally, he spoke to the manager who stated that she was new there and was unaware of our case. The manager we had dealt with had been promoted. Imagine that, he had moved on and never informed her that there was a hot bed waiting to explode.

Our contractor had been to the house and given us an estimate of somewhere around $50,000 to repair the home. I was shocked that the damage was that great but at least now I had something to go on. He felt at that time that while it would take a lot to repair the home, at least it could be repaired.  Thank goodness, because I wasn’t willing to lose my home on top of everything else. Then on Aug. 1, 1998, Terminix sent a letter offering us a ridiculous settlement offer.  They supported their figures by stating that there was extensive damage prior to Terminix ever having been called. To top it all, the proposal came from the manager we had been dealing with in the beginning. I was furious. How dare they insult my intelligence?  I dug my heels in for the battle for my home, the battle for justice, the battle for right against wrong. No, I was not asking for them to pay the entire bill, just a portion of it; but their offer, in my opinion, was not a fair portion.

Our attorney really began to do his homework, investigating every angle of this case, which he had been doing from the outset; but at this point, I believe he realized just how intense this was going to be and just how stubborn his client was. He searched the Web and found your wonderful web site, which he advised me to read in depth so that I would be aware of what I might be in for. He called experts and went out to the house. More bad news; it was felt that the termites had been in the house several years before Terminix was called.  So be it, there were still nine years of additional damage; and Terminix should pay for that portion of the repairs. The problem was how do you determine old damage from new? Dad was gone and couldn’t testify; and even though I visited weekly, I had been gone from the house many years.
We contacted our contractor again and asked him to return to the house and to do an in-depth estimate for the exact cost of repairs.  He spent several days doing this, poking holes in the walls trying to determine where the termites had been or might be; and he found live infestation.  He was able to determine that half the house had some extent of damage. Now the estimate was up to somewhere around $144,000. I was sick.  I knew in my heart that the house couldn’t be saved, but I was still fighting for its survival. How could he find live termites? The house had been retreated not too long ago and the statement made, “We’ll get them this time.” To me, this was just one more example of Terminix’s inability to kill termites. In the cover letter that Terminix sends out with their renewal contract, they state, in part, “You will never have to worry about termite problems while your Contract is in force.” Well, they had been treating the house for nine years, and I was still having to worry about termite problems.

Our attorney brought in an expert who has dealt in the field of Entomology since 1961 and is considered to be one of the best, if not the best, in the industry.  How thrilled I was to have him on my team. My case was growing as was my heartache. We arranged a meeting at the house and thus a day of intense work began.  Starting in the basement, holes were knocked in the walls, beams were poked, termite tunnels were traced, then it was upstairs, more holes were knocked in the walls and ceilings.  Paneling was taken down so we could see what was going on behind the scene. I can still hear him saying “This is a crime, this is the worst case I have seen in all my years given the construction of this home.”  My heart sank as the reality set in that I had lost my home to termites.  Then the words were spoken, “There is no way to save this home, it will have to be demolished.”  He was able to track the path the termites had taken, was able to determine how they entered the house and took us through nine plus years of how the termites had eaten away.  While he admitted that the house was difficult to treat, it was treatable, and that Terminix had basically done nothing. During his investigation, we found many, many sites of live infestations and took videos of everything that we found. Yes, we had a claim against Terminix and our case was growing stronger each step of the way.  As an example of how bad the infestation was, the roof that we had put on the house in December of 1997 already had tunnels on it, this was only September of 1998, and Terminix had treated the house in March of 1998.

We had two meetings with our expert at the house; and on one occasion, Terminix sent out their contractor and a couple of their representatives.  I believe the Terminix people with their contractor were not there more than an hour.  How they could assess the damage in just an hour I’ll never know, because it took our contractor three days. Of course, it was easier for Terminix; because we had opened the walls and ceiling, and they were able to see things our contractor wasn’t able to see.

This case had grown in size and intensity. I was glad to have such a wonderful attorney, who stood behind me each step of the way.  There were times when he had to tell me things he knew I didn’t want to hear but needed to hear because it was the truth.  Like the house having to be demolished. I needed to hear the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

As this case grew, so did the handling of our claim at the corporate level of Terminix change. The original attorney for Terminix in Tennessee turned it over to an attorney in Florida who handles their more involved claims.  Our attorney managed to keep the lines of communication open at all times.  At any given time, those lines could have been closed; and we would have been forced into arbitration. Neither of us really wanted to go that route, but I was prepared to in order to have justice served.

In January of 1999, Terminix's attorney arranged a meeting with our attorney.  They went out to the house so that he could look around and see for himself the amount of damage. Back at the office, an offer to settle was made. We refused the first offer; but by the end of the meeting, we had agreed on a figure.  Terminix usually, I believe, uses a confidentiality clause, which stops claimants from discussing their cases. For some reason, they did not do that to me. The only conditions to the settlement are that they not be responsible for treating the house and that I not disclose the amount of the settlement.  What a joke!  They hadn’t effectively treated the house for nine years!

The saddest part of this story is that while I admit there was extensive damage to the house, it could have been saved if Terminix had done the job they had been well paid for, for all those years. Now I am left with at best the shell of a house and broken dreams.

When I began this battle, I thought it was a case of Terminix knowing they were dealing with a senior citizen and taking advantage of him.  I also felt that this was a local problem.  After further research, I don’t feel that this is the case.  It is clear, at least from reading your web site, that many people appear to be having a lot of problems with Terminix and its claims’ handling procedures (or lack thereof). The letters posted here tell of tragic stories involving deception and misleading comments, physical injuries and illness, even bankruptcy.  Based on my own experience, it is easy for me to believe a lot of what others have published here.  I, at least, am not bankrupt and still have my health.