IN THE PIPELINE:

“I told them, ‘You don’t put a joggle in the drain line for the sake of a vent line!’”

Henry Maag is laughing as he recounts some of the face-offs he had recently with City Hall. I don’t know exactly what Henry is talking about (it’s a plumbing reference, he explains to this novice), but then, I’m not nearly as handy as Henry. In fact, I doubt anyone is. That’s why I’m standing here in Henry’s new house.

It all goes back to about seven years ago. I’d heard a story about a fellow dad at St. Bonaventure School who was starting to build a house — with his own two hands. Today, as he prepares to move his family to the new digs, I was curious what those seven years had been like (and how the house had turned out).

“Well, there have been good days and bad days,” he chuckles. Maag’s good-natured guffaws pepper much of the conversation, and it’s clear that this is a project that grew into much more than he imagined it ever would. “I thought it might take two or three years,” he says as we sit in his new kitchen. “But it was just more work than I thought it would be. You set out to do certain things in a day, you work as hard as you can, you skip lunch, you think maybe you’re ahead of the game but you look around and nothing’s really changed!”

Maag grew up in Westminster under a construction-savvy dad who taught his kids the ropes early. Maag worked for Boeing, and worked for a time fabricating exercise machines among other hands-on jobs. But then about seven years ago, he decided to build his family a dream house. He found a vacant lot off Heil Avenue that his wife liked, and a month later he broke ground. And it became his life.

“‘A Home Depot guy,’ I call myself. But I had no idea how many trips I’d be making,” he recalls.

Walking through the home today, he is critical of little details, like bits of glue in the newly tiled kitchen floor, and several other minor issues most of us would miss. But the house is a marvel — 5,160 square feet, upward of 20 rooms and a free-flowing design that’s as elegant as it is functional. Rather than “boxy,” Maag designed a home with lots of curves and interesting angles, creative lighting and pockets of space — a solarium here, a sitting room there, even a steam room.

“The design never stopped being a work in progress,” he says sheepishly. “But for all the changes, I think we got a good house.”

“Wanna see the basement?” he asks. That’s right — basement. Seems after visiting some Midwestern relatives, Henry got it in his head that his house would have an honest-to-goodness, four-concrete-wall-and- concrete-floor basement.

“Not a wine cellar, like some people build,” he chuckles. “But a nice place to escape. A place that would be kid-proof, a place where you could have a party — just a cool, quiet room.”

It’s 1,350 square feet, and exactly like I remember East Coast basements — bomb shelter-like in its privacy — and a place to escape the noise and static of everyday life.

With the exception of some help pouring concrete and a few other chores, Maag did everything here. All the designing, electrical, mechanical (including air conditioning and ventilation), actual building and the aforementioned plumbing.

His four kids are happy to finally be moving in and as for his wife, Peggy, well, Henry says she was ready for this chapter of their life to reach a conclusion (The words “To my wife’s credit” are spoken more than once during the tour.)

“She supported us,” he says. “She’s a pediatric nurse and worked very hard so I could do this.” And she likes the house? “Let’s just say she’s relieved we finally got to this point.” Again he laughs, and it’s hard not to laugh with him. When you consider what this project took and the tolls it must have taken, you have to appreciate that they’re all still standing — along with their dream home.

There are do-it-yourselfers. And there is Henry Maag. He crafted something with his own two hands that most people can only dream about. For seven years he hammered, drilled, built and painted, for the most part, all by himself. And he has the house to prove it. Think of this as “Extreme Makeover, Henry Maag Edition,” and I hope that this marvelous house is in his family for generations.

CHRIS EPTING is the author of 14 books, including the new “Huntington Beach Then & Now.” You can write him at [email protected].