Hiring an Inspector and Avoiding the Lemons Susan Farley for The New York Times Evan Grugett, who has done thousands of home inspections in his 30-year career, checking a house in New Rochelle, N.Y. By CLAIRE WILSON Published: January 2, 2005 ITH thousands of home inspections under his belt, Evan Grugett doesn't need to waste time on preparation. He's out of his immaculate white sport utility vehicle as soon as it hits the curb in front of a 1915 colonial in Mamaroneck, N.Y., and his latest inspection is under way with detailed running commentary. "Built as one-family, converted," he announces when he sees the "subject," as he calls the houses he inspects. It's a two-family, three stories high, on a nice block not far from the train station. There's a stroller parked on the grass out front. Mr. Grugett scrutinizes a narrow strip of lawn for evidence of a buried home heating oil tank but finds none. Without missing a beat, he scoops up his binoculars and trains his bespectacled gaze on the roof line, looking for all the world like a fanatical birder. "Shingle roof, aluminum gutters and leaders," continues Mr. Grugett, an engineer whose company, Evan Grugett Inspections, is based in Eastchester. Then his voice turns more serious. "Eighty-five percent of wet basements come from the roof." He casts an approving glance over the yard and how it tilts ever so slightly. "You want all grades to slope away from the subject." Up the front steps then, giving the skinny on the porch as he goes. "Composite product, new deck. Doesn't warp or rot. No termites." Making the rounds with Mr. Grugett is nothing if not an education - which is exactly the idea. A 30-year veteran of home inspections - that elective "due diligence" every home buyer is encouraged to undertake before signing on the dotted line - he views his job in full "caveat emptor" mode. It is also a way to help his clients to get to know the property, with its various knobs, knockers and valves, and how to best maintain their investment in the future. "There is no such thing as passing or failing an inspection," he says. "It is about consumer information, educating the buyer on what they are getting into." Anyone might wonder what he's getting into on an inspection with a seasoned, compulsively thorough professional like Mr. Grugett. His knowledge of all things engineering is encyclopedic, and he dispenses it freely to anyone within earshot. It is dizzying in its detail, difficult to absorb in one go, perhaps especially so for nervous neophyte home buyers about to hand over their life savings. Thankfully, all the important points get into the detailed, numerically coded written report he will provide at the end for the going rate of about $450. "And I put a high priority on whatever will hurt or kill people," he says, deadpan. Having introduced himself to the seller, Tim McCarville, a lanky Bronx firefighter with a beaming little boy in his arms, Mr. Grugett is back outside, tap-tapping his way around the exterior of the house with a rubber-handled screwdriver. "You're allowed to probe when you see a problem, but you can't do obtrusive or destructive testing," he explains. "It's strictly visual." That means he can't poke serious holes in anything, even if a hollow thud suggests that extended families of termites are making a meal out of the house's wooden frame. Such a discovery would require tests beyond the accepted norms for a basic home inspection, in Mr. Grugett's case the guidelines of the American Society of Home Inspectors, a professional organization, as would tests for other environmental hazards like radon gas, mold or asbestos. "Control joint," Mr. Grugett says, folding his compact frame for a closer look at the seam between two parts of the foundation. "The poured concrete is a plus." The guided tour continues around a neat little yard tufted with neglected shrubs. The house is covered in three kinds of siding that could easily be dated by an appraiser on the "Antiques Roadshow": 70's harvest gold Shaker-style, yellow clapboard from an earlier makeover, and fashionable white faux bead board, a product of the most recent facelift. Toward the front of the house, the inspector spies one electric meter where two would normally be in a two-family. "Meter pan!" he exclaims. "Is the capacity enough?"