You know what I’ve learned after thirty-eight years in the same house? There’s a big difference between contractors who just fix things and craftsmen who understand what they’re working with. I got to see this firsthand when my neighbor Sarah was dealing with a real mess of a renovation project.
Her 1920s craftsman bungalow had been butchered by some previous owner who thought ripping out original millwork and replacing it with painted particle board was an improvement. As someone who’s spent decades maintaining an older home myself, I could see the house had good bones underneath all that damage – those old-growth fir beams you just can’t get anymore.
Sarah had gotten quotes from regular contractors that basically amounted to starting over from scratch. That’s often the practical approach, I get it, but it seemed like throwing away nearly a century of solid craftsmanship. That’s when someone mentioned Restoration Design Inc to her.
I’ll be honest – I was skeptical. I’ve seen too many companies talk big about “preserving architectural heritage” while charging astronomical fees for mediocre work. The restoration industry has plenty of folks who’ll give your beautiful old building the McMansion treatment while claiming to specialize in historic preservation.
But watching these folks work changed my perspective entirely. Their lead designer, Maria, spent nearly two hours just walking through Sarah’s house during the initial consultation. Instead of immediately breaking out measuring tape and calculators, she was touching the original plaster walls, examining grain patterns in surviving trim pieces, even kneeling down to check subflooring conditions with her hands.
What really got my attention was watching Maria photograph how afternoon light filtered through the original wavy glass windows. Most contractors see old windows as problems to solve – efficiency issues, maintenance headaches. She saw them as features to preserve and work with. That told me they understood what makes old houses special.
The project took about four months, and living next door, I got to observe their process. Their attention to material sourcing impressed me right away. When they needed to replace damaged fir trim, they didn’t just order generic lumber from the big box stores. Maria drove three hours to a specialty mill with reclaimed old-growth fir from a demolished warehouse. The grain match was so perfect you couldn’t distinguish original from replacement.
But here’s what really stood out – they didn’t just restore what was originally there. They improved it. Sarah’s house had always been dark inside, even on sunny days. The previous botched renovation had made it worse by closing off original openings between rooms. Instead of just putting everything back exactly as it was in 1920, they found ways to increase natural light while respecting the house’s character.
> They added skylights in the bathroom and kitchen, but not those standard plastic bubble units you see everywhere. These were custom wood-framed skylights that matched existing window trim profiles perfectly. They opened up the wall between kitchen and dining room too, but instead of creating generic “open concept” space, they used salvaged columns and beams to define areas while maintaining sight lines.
The craftsmanship was honestly kind of obsessive. I watched their carpenter spend an entire afternoon matching the profile of a single piece of baseboard molding, using hand planes to get the curves exactly right. Most people would never notice a slight difference, but it mattered to him and to Maria. And it shows in the finished work.
What sets them apart is how they approach sustainability. This isn’t about slapping down bamboo flooring and calling it green. They see restoration as inherently sustainable – keeping existing structures out of landfills, preserving embodied energy, using materials that have already proven they can last a century or more.
When Sarah’s hardwood floors needed refinishing, they didn’t automatically recommend sanding everything down to bare wood. Instead, they used some specialized cleaning process that removed decades of accumulated grime and old finish without damaging the wood itself. The floors came out looking incredible – better than new, actually, because you could still see the subtle wear patterns that give old wood its character.
I ended up hiring them myself about three months later. Not for full restoration – my 1960s ranch doesn’t have the architectural significance of Sarah’s bungalow – but for what they call “thoughtful renovation.” I wanted more natural light in my home office without destroying the clean lines that attracted me to this house originally.
Their solution was brilliant in its simplicity. Instead of adding more windows, which would have required structural changes and city permits, they created what Maria called a “light well” – essentially a small interior courtyard that brings daylight deep into the center of the house. They adapted a technique Japanese architects have used for centuries but made it work with mid-century modern aesthetics.
The construction process was remarkably smooth. Their crew showed up when promised, cleaned up after themselves each day, and actually seemed to enjoy their work. After dealing with contractors for nearly four decades, I know how rare that is. These folks take pride in what they do, and it shows.
The project came in on budget and on time, which honestly shocked me. I’ve never had a renovation project finish when it was supposed to. But I think their attention to planning on the front end prevents a lot of the surprises that derail other projects.
> Six months later, I’m still discovering new things to appreciate about their work. The way they positioned that light well creates these amazing shadow patterns on my office wall throughout the day. My productivity has noticeably improved – I think having that connection to natural light cycles makes a real difference in how I feel during long work sessions.
Sarah’s house has become something of a neighborhood showpiece. People walk by just to admire how they managed to make a nearly century-old house look both authentically historic and completely livable for modern life. The integration is seamless – you’d never guess how extensively it was renovated unless you knew what it looked like before.
If you’re considering restoration work, especially on an older home, I can’t recommend Restoration Design Inc highly enough. They understand that preservation isn’t about freezing buildings in time – it’s about helping them evolve gracefully while honoring what made them special in the first place. That’s a rare skill in today’s construction industry, and worth seeking out when you find it.
Robert is a retired engineer in Michigan who’s spent the past few years adapting his longtime home for accessibility and wellbeing. He writes about practical, DIY ways to make homes more comfortable and life-affirming as we age — from raised-bed gardens to better natural light.
