One man's dream is eyesore to his neighbors


	Since the early '90s, Vladimir Deriugin has been adding to his bungalow. "I am aware of all the codes and have applied for permits to finish," he says. The sign reads, "Commercial Space Available Now." Renee C. Byer / Seattle Post-Intelligencer Click for larger photo

After the death of his parents in the early 90s, he decided to single-handedly transform the building into a 400-foot-tall condominium complex in honor of his mother, Irene.

His neighbors have listened to him hammer away at the house for up to five hours a day, sometimes even in the middle of the night, creating a framework for the proposed skyscraper that now stands about 40 feet tall.

Although Deriugin, 49, has created a proposal complete with a composite sketch and a list of features the building will offer, city officials say he has yet to provide them with a concise, effective plan for his dream building.

The Redondo Heights native is an imaginative dreamer oblivious to the world around him. He is a soft-spoken man, armed only with a 1975 degree in sculpture and art from the University of Washington and donated building materials.

"It's easier to grasp the future if you know what it looks like," Deriugin writes on his four-page proposal, complete with an ink sketch of what he imagines to be his finished product.


	Vladimir Deriugin stands atop the structure he hopes will be a commercial and residential complex, but the Tacoma man is not sure that day will come. Renee C. Byer / Seattle Post-Intelligencer Click for larger photo

Currently, his house looks like a labyrinthine fortress of multicolored plywood and plastic. Wood spokes stick out from its roof, and aluminum foil is layered around the sides of the fence surrounding the house.

Several piles of dirt and rocks decorate what was once a plush lawn. At the center of the dirt, there is a wooden wheel that reads: "Commercial Space Available Now."

When he finishes, he envisions a complex complete with offices, apartments, a deli/restaurant and an air taxi.

How will he transform his house into the tallest building in Tacoma? Slowly but surely, he says.

One of a few glitches in his plan is that he's not sure when the project will come to fruition.

But neither the city nor his neighbors may have the patience to wait much longer.

Deriugin's house is considered the neighborhood eyesore, a health hazard and an all-around menace to the people who live around him.

For him, it is a personal statement.

For the city officials, it's a conundrum.

Deriugin's plan goes against most of the city of Tacoma's building and maintenance codes because he never has been granted a permit to build, says Gary Pedersen, the director of Tacoma's Building and Land Use Services Division.

He's been fined several times over the last 10 years -- a total of $875 -- but he's paid those and has continued to build without any permits.

"He hasn't presented the city with any concrete evidence, and therein lies the problem," Pedersen said. "In his mind, he's building a St. Irene complex, and he wants to build a 400-foot tower.

"The building code only allows you to go 90 feet. You can't do any work without engineering plans that meet the building code, and he's in violation."

Although it's not unusual for individuals in any jurisdiction to build without permits, the Deriugin is definitely unique to Tacoma, Pedersen said.

"We're trying to figure out the next step with our attorneys. It's his home, he lives there, and he has this view in his mind of what this is going to be," Pedersen says.

"Our view is that's not reasonable, feasible or realistic. We're trying to find a resolution and have yet to find one."

Until an agreement can be made, Deriugin has continued to build what he considers his life's mission: to construct a monument to his family's legacy.

The tall, slender man with limp brown hair is often seen painting the scrap materials he collects from around town. The house is also a neighborhood attraction, and art students often draw inspiration from the creative accumulation of materials Deriugin has compiled.

One of Deriugin's neighbors, Darron Cole, seems tickled by the attention his neighbor has gotten over the years. By Cole's account, Deriugin is a nice enough, harmless guy.

"He's just a little eccentric," Cole says.

Cole is the owner of Wright's Marine, a boating business adjacent to Deriugin's property.

In the 15 years he's worked alongside Deriugin, Cole says he's seen him scream at drug dealers and prostitutes from his stoop.

"He's done some good for the area," Cole says. "He just gets annoyed if I park a boat near his house, because he says it degrades his property."

Although Deriugin and Cole often have conversations about Deriugin's plan, Cole says he is doubtful that the complex will ever come into fruition. "He's got it all figured out. But none of it will ever happen. It's impossible."

His main concern, Cole says, is that Deriugin is safe.

But with a house full of abandoned building materials, a wood stove and an electrical heater, he is not surprised that the Tacoma Fire Department often drives by just to check on the house. "It's sturdy, so it won't fall down," Cole says. "But it could easily burn down."

In the end, Deriugin's dream is to finish his structure by 2005. It will have an amazing view, he says, of the Tacoma Dome and the waterfront. "I just need to convert my plans into a language," Deriugin says, "that's easy for everyone to understand."

P-I reporter Joshunda Sanders can be reached at 206-448-8179 or joshundasanders@seattlepi.com

Add P-I Local headlines to