The House THAT PETER BUILT

By MICHELLE BEARDEN The Tampa Tribune

Published: Apr 26, 2008

How do you tell a story about a man you've never met?

You do it through the words, the memories and the pictures of those who loved him.

And so many loved Peter Paularinne.

"He was one of those once-in-a-lifetime people you meet," says David Conrod, a longtime friend and best man at his wedding. "Someone who expects nothing and is a blessing in your life. That was Peter."

Tonight, people will be able to show that love at a fundraiser to achieve the dream that eluded Peter, who died March 18, 2006, after a 14-month struggle with a horrific and debilitating cancer.

Peter was so many things. A devoted husband to his soul mate, Cathy, and a loving dad to their two sons, Austin, now 16, and Devin, 14. Media coordinator at The Florida Mental Health Institute at the University of South Florida. A beloved uncle, a good son and brother. An adventurous outdoorsman, an avid hockey fan, a devout Christian. A Canadian with strong Finnish roots who traded snow for Florida's sun.

And something else: He was in the process of single-handedly building a house from the ground up for his wife and sons. In every spare hour when he wasn't at his job or with his family, Peter could be found working on the project that required the skills of an accomplished tradesman and the patience of Job.

They call it "The House That Peter Built."

It's tucked away on an idyllic pastoral setting in Temple Terrace, of all places. It claims one acre of a 20-acre stretch of unspoiled property settled by Cathy's parents. It has cows, goats and grazing land and, like Peter, it's a refreshing surprise in a paved and mechanized world.

Living In The Garage

Peter got started in February 2001, staking out the garage of the house, a charming Cape Cod with a big front porch. Finances were a consideration, since Cathy was a stay-at-home mom and both kids were attending Seffner Christian Academy. So they moved from Lutz to live with Cathy's folks while he built the first portion of the home.

Every detail would be born of Peter's hands, from the carved wooden hearts on the door handles to the scalloped shelves to the walls made of old barn wood salvaged from a country farm. Whatever Cathy wanted, he would oblige. Peter declared their nest would be "small but darling."

"It was something that mattered so much to him. He put everything he had into it," Cathy says. "He told me every nail he hammered into this house was out of love for us."

On her birthday, Nov. 3, 2004, he moved his bride and kids into the 1,200-square-foot converted garage with a master bedroom in the upstairs. The rest of the living space on the main floor was cramped but temporary: a small kitchen, a single bathroom, an exposed laundry area, a combined dining and living room. One bed fit under the sloping stairwell for privacy; the other sleeping space was an air mattress placed wherever it would fit.

This was supposed to be just the beginning. Two more bedrooms, another bathroom, an entertainment room. It would take time and it would take money, but Peter was a determined man with a vision who knew that as sure as night follows day, he would one day finish that house.

Then, after church one Sunday in January 2005, he felt a pain in his side. It grew more intense, and he went to the emergency room at University Community Hospital. Appendicitis, he and Cathy thought.

Eight hours of waiting, then his appendix burst. He was rushed into surgery.

His last thought as he was wheeled into the room was that he was facing a few weeks of recovery, then he would be back on his feet.

He woke groggily to a crying Cathy. Through her tears, she told him. Cancer, the doctors had said. A cancer so bad they said they couldn't do anything to help him. Muscinous adenocarcinoma with pseudomyxoma peritonea. Who can even spell or pronounce such a condition?

When his appendix ruptured, it perforated his colon and seeded the cancer all over his abdomen.

The bad news didn't abate. The next day, as Peter tried to recover from the shock and the operation, an 18-inch blood clot passed through his heart and lodged in his lung, requiring open-heart surgery.

Plans to finish the house were put on hold. Now Peter was in a battle for his life. Doctors gave him little hope, but he found it elsewhere, in a faith made stronger by the challenges.

Blessed With Loving Friends, Family

In his testimony a few months later during a church service, he talked of how his trials only brought him closer to God and more determined to fight Satan. He never said, "Why me, God?" but rather "Why not me? What next for me now?"

He found his miracles along the way, from a world-renowned specialist willing to treat him in Pittsburgh to colleagues from his workplace who made sure he wouldn't have to worry about losing his benefits. They donated their sick and vacation days, en masse, to Peter, ensuring he had an entire year of paid time off.

"That says it all," says Patty Cleveland, Peter's supervisor and the institute's assistant director.

"'Nice' doesn't begin to describe what a good, decent, hard-working person Peter was. You wanted to do anything you could to help him because he'd do the same for you. He knew his priorities, and that was his family and his faith."

He called the final chapter of his life "my blessed journey," although it was often filled with suffering and disappointment: two trips to Pittsburgh and long hospitalizations, a colostomy, feeding tubes - at one point, he couldn't eat for eight months - high fevers, infections, IVs, morphine pumps and more cancer attacking his organs.

He spent the last 10 weeks at Tampa General Hospital, where a steady stream of relatives and friends visited. Weak and fading, he never lost his smile, his sense of humor, his deep belief in God's grace.

There was never any bitterness or anger. Near the end, the only thing clouding Peter's happiness about going home to the Lord was leaving his beloved family behind.

On March 18, just five days shy of his 17th wedding anniversary, Peter Paularinne slipped away as his darling Cathy held on to his bony hand. She says she felt the presence of angels come into the room and take him to heaven.

She and the boys have learned to live with broken hearts. They trust that God had his reasons for putting Peter through such a trial and for taking him at age 47. Not a day goes by they don't talk about or think of him.

Roger Duncan thinks of him, too. He's the principal at Seffner Christian Academy and one of the organizers of tonight's benefit. The goal: to raise $100,000 to complete the house and another $100,000 to set up a trust fund for property insurance, taxes, transportation and future educational expenses for the boys.

Those who can't attend can give donations of building materials, labor or cash.

Duncan says the family has gone through some real tough times. But this effort will show that "God does provide and he does keep his word."

"Some people, when they find out they have only months to live, get all sweet and become great husbands and great fathers," Duncan says. "But Peter lived like that all the time. He lived his life as if he had only months to live. He had such an impact on people."

Yes, he did. I never had the pleasure of meeting this remarkable man. But his testimony is one of the most powerful I've ever heard. Even in death, Peter Paularinne is still teaching lessons that matter most.

Bearden can be reached at (813) 259-7613 or mbearden@tampa

IF YOU GO

WHAT: A dinner and auction to raise $100,000 to complete construction of Peter Paularinne's house and $100,000 for a family trust fund to help with home and school expenses

WHEN: 6 tonight

WHERE: Seffner Christian Academy, 11605 U.S. 92 E., Seffner

HOW MUCH: $20 per person (seventh grade and up); $10 per child

INFORMATION: (813) 205-6126 or www.scacrusaders.com

See the house that Peter built on Michelle Bearden's "Keeping the Faith" at 9 a.m. Sunday on News Channel 8. Keyword: Peter, to see a video and learn more about the fundraising efforts. trib.com.