The home inspector was long gone, and the ink was well dried on the mortgage. I was looking forward to my first big kitchen remodel in our gorgeous 70s ranch. The house had plenty of space—big open rooms, high ceilings, and lots of potential… or so we thought.
At the time, we were also trying to make a smart financial move—downsizing, but gaining acreage with hopes of starting a small homestead. We were walking away from our riverside 90s home in a gated community. It felt like we had finally achieved something after years of smaller houses, funky layouts, noisy neighbors, and being packed too close together. We wanted space. We wanted freedom.
Everything was lining up. We were excited… even if the bank was confused about why we wanted to “downgrade” into a more rural home with fewer amenities and less market value.
But it wasn’t about the money. It was about freedom. It was about stretching our legs and finally getting those chickens.
After much convincing, the bank relented and approved the mortgage. We were elated. From there, everything moved quickly. Inspections were scheduled, our current house hit the market and immediately generated interest, and we began preparing for the move.
Our big brick-and-siding 70s ranch was dated—no question about it. It was a fixer-upper, but that’s what we do. We love finding stressed, overlooked homes and turning them into modern living spaces.
This one was no different.
It had been sitting on the market for almost a year—a diamond in the rough. Plenty of space, a bit of acreage, tucked down a country road. Exactly what we were looking for. Inventory was tight at the time, and we knew we had to act before someone else realized what this place could be.
About half the house had been remodeled within the last five years, but the other half remained untouched. That side still had sprayed-on textured ceilings, dated paneling, and wallpaper we hoped—hoped—had drywall behind it. It was a typical 70s mix of half-finished updates, repainted kitchens, and “modernizations” that were now themselves 30 years old.
In other words, it needed a complete makeover.
We started making plans—room by room. Sketches, material ideas, paint colors. The vision began coming together, and we were ready to move in and get started.
During the walkthrough with the realtor, I already knew exactly what I wanted to do.
I saw those ceilings and was mentally scraping them. I was planning to rip up the linoleum, sand down drywall, remove paneling, replace windows, update doors, and transform the dark, dungeon-like game room into a bright flex space with LVP flooring.
I wasn’t new to this kind of work. I enjoyed it. I was ready.
Then I looked at the floor—the worn sheet linoleum that had clearly seen better days. In several spots, it looked like something heavy had been dragged across it. That was going to be one of the first things to go.
I thought back to my last house, where I had easily removed linoleum. This will be a simple job, I told myself. The corner was already peeling in multiple places. The rest of the floor had been carpet, which had already been removed. I’m halfway there.
I knew asbestos could be present, but I assumed this material looked newer—probably mid-80s or later—so it likely wouldn’t be an issue. I was guessing.
I knew popcorn ceilings often contained asbestos, especially pre-1980, but this was textured, not popcorn. Should be fine. Just drywall mud—no problem.
Worst case, I could remove the sheetrock entirely and replace it. Skip the sanding, save time. I even considered hiring that part out.
I had the tools. I had the experience. All that was left was the work.
Time passed. The home inspection came back clean. The septic system was approved. We signed the mortgage and got the keys.
I remember asking the inspector one last question as he was heading out:
“Is there anything to be worried about with asbestos in a home like this?”
He responded casually, almost dismissively:
“Well, you can have it tested, but it’s not that big of a deal.”
Not that big of a deal.
I thought about all the mesothelioma commercials I had seen over the years. That phrase didn’t sit right.
He added, “I can come back and test it later. It’ll be two or three hundred dollars, but most people don’t do it.”
And with that, he got in his vehicle and drove away.
I shrugged it off—but that phrase stuck with me the rest of the day.
Not that big of a deal.
The next morning, I started researching.
What I found stopped me in my tracks.
That “not a big deal” question quickly turned into a very big deal.
I halted all remodeling plans. I needed facts before I moved forward. And the more I read, the more I realized—I didn’t just have a minor concern. I potentially had a major asbestos problem.
Right in the middle of my wife’s dream kitchen.
I decided to test everything.
That alone took weeks—finding a company, understanding what materials to test, figuring out costs, sending samples to labs, and waiting for results.
I tested:
– Ceiling texture
– Drywall mud
– Drywall itself
– Linoleum
– Linoleum adhesive
– Paint layers
– Wallpaper
Anything I found online that might contain asbestos—I tested it.
I didn’t want to know… but I needed to know.
I wanted to be thorough so I wouldn’t have to stop and retest every time I started a new project.
What I learned next was overwhelming.
Nearly every surface in my house could contain asbestos.
That realization hit hard. Not just for me—but for my family.
After hours of research, I finally worked up the nerve to tell my wife what I had discovered… and how I had failed to account for this before buying the house.
She wasn’t thrilled.
Plans we had made for reconfiguring the home were suddenly on hold. We had to adjust. We couldn’t scrape ceilings, rip up flooring, knock down walls, or open up spaces the way we had envisioned.
We had to make the best of the situation.
Then the lab results came in.
I opened the email, found the PDF, and started reading.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Line after line.
ACM—Asbestos Containing Material.
My remodeling dreams started to crumble as I tried to understand what the percentages meant. Was it dangerous? Could I leave it alone? Was I already exposed?
My mind spiraled.
Was I going to get sick?
Was my family at risk?
Had I already done damage?
I spent days consumed by research—reading conflicting information. Some sources said it wasn’t a big deal. Others said to leave immediately.
Why wasn’t this talked about more?
Why weren’t there warnings everywhere?
Where were the labels like lead paint warnings in stores?
The more I learned, the more questions I had.
I also began thinking about all the homes I had remodeled in the past… and how I had likely been exposed before without even realizing it.
At first, I panicked.
It felt like I had made an irreversible mistake.
I knew asbestos wasn’t good—but I didn’t understand the scale of what I was dealing with.
But eventually, I realized something important:
I didn’t have enough information yet.
So I kept digging.
Hours turned into days—reading articles, forums, blogs, watching videos, listening to podcasts. I needed clarity.
And eventually, I found it.
Yes—I hadn’t made an ideal decision.
But I hadn’t made a fatal one either.
I just needed to understand what I could do, what I couldn’t do, and how to move forward safely.
Slowly, I started to see a path forward.
It meant giving up some choices. It meant planning long-term. It meant potentially saving for proper abatement if I wanted major changes.
But it wasn’t hopeless.
Fast forward to today.
The kitchen layout is still the same—but we’ve made careful, calculated improvements based on what we now know.
Looking back, I realize my biggest mistake wasn’t buying the house—it was not asking the right questions upfront.
Even after owning multiple homes, I didn’t fully understand that many of them likely contained asbestos. As a DIYer and remodeler, I had probably exposed myself more than once without realizing it.
That’s why I created this site.
To help others.
To reduce fear.
To provide clarity.
To give you the knowledge I wish I had from the beginning.
Whether you just searched asbestos for the first time, or you’re staring at a positive test result like I was—I’ve been there.
Use this site as a resource. Bookmark it. Come back to it. Share it.
My goal is to help you move from fear to understanding—because with the right information, you can make informed decisions and move forward confidently.
And if there’s anything I’ve missed, or if this has helped you in any way, I’d genuinely love to hear from you.