AMERICAN IDEAS, Page 12Habitat for HumanityA Bootstrap Approach To Low-Cost HousingMillard Fuller believes in volunteer labor a little seed moneyand a lot of inspirationBy Don Winbush
Make no small plans," somebody once reasoned, "for they have
no power to stir men's blood." Millard Fuller has always acted on
that advice. He was worth a million dollars by his 29th birthday,
but then decided to pursue a more ambitious goal: "the elimination
of poverty housing in the world." If you want details, Fuller, a
tireless and persuasive salesman, is more than excited to talk
about his plans. They are large.
There are 7.6 million people in the U.S. whose dwelling places
are deemed "substandard," a euphemism that fails to evoke
adequately the living conditions in scanty rural shotgun shacks or
the inhabited shells of buildings in urban areas. These quarters
are commonly without heat and plumbing, and in some cases are in
such disrepair that the term shelter is misapplied. But worse than
the deficient housing, Fuller laments, is the world's indifference
to it. "People of goodwill, especially people of faith, should find
it hard to rest in peace," he admonishes.
Twelve years ago, Fuller founded an organization he said would
"make shelter a matter of conscience," that would provide the poor
with "simple, decent, affordable housing." He called his enterprise
Habitat for Humanity. The idea of a house-building ministry was
inspired by Koinonia Farm, an integrated Christian community in a
poor, rural, south Georgia area strewn with crude shacks and
tumbledown homes.
Fuller and Koinonia leader Clarence Jordan started Fund for
Humanity, a pool of capital that was used to buy building materials
and serve as a mortgage source for people too poor to qualify for
bank loans. Modest homes, built with volunteer labor and some
donated materials, were sold at cost to low-income families. Their
payments, plus donations and other money raised, replenished the
fund, and the money was recycled to build even more homes. There
were problems: raising seed money and bureaucratic snarls, but it
worked. By 1976 he had visions of grandeur.
"It's not your blue blood, your pedigree or your college
degree. It's what you do with your life that counts," says Fuller.
Like a peripatetic preacher, he makes his folksy "theology of the
hammer" spiels to audiences all over the world, trying to tap into
what he contends is "an incredible reservoir of goodwill out
there."
On the stump, the messenger is as entertaining as his message
is fervid. Fuller, 53, is an Ichabod Crane look-alike who is
incessantly joking, cajoling, commoving, pressing, pleading for
Habitat. He leans and swaggers, hunches his shoulders, pokes his
head and forms grandfather spiders with his lean hands, which are
constantly aswirl. He still crows about the sales pitch he made to
former President Jimmy Carter: "I said to him, `Sir, are you
interested in Habitat for Humanity, or are you very interested?'
" Since 1984 Carter has been one of Habitat's celebrity supporters,
along with Bob Hope, Paul Newman and Amy Grant.
Low-income housing is disappearing by the thousands of units
every year. And increasingly, people are very interested in
Habitat. In the U.S. a typical Habitat home is a no-frills,
1,000-sq.-ft., three-bedroom residence that sells for about
$28,000. Habitat homeowners usually make $150 or so monthly
mortgage payments -- which is sometimes less than the rent they
paid for indecent housing. Fuller often reminds Habitat affiliates,
"The houses we build should be a joy to the people, not a burden
on their backs."
The number of communities interested in trying Habitat's
formula has grown most strikingly in recent years. There were just
eleven Habitat affiliates in the U.S. in 1980; there were 171 by
1986. This year there are 324 affiliates, ranging in size from the
one in New York City to one in Coahoma, Miss. (pop. 351), which
plans to replace the town's entire housing stock. There are 38
college chapters and 68 Habitat affiliates overseas. All told,
4,000 homes have been built since 1976. Boasts Fuller: "It's clear
to me that we are seeing the birth of a movement."
Fuller's energy was not always so well directed. By the time
he entered law school at the University of Alabama, Fuller and a
college chum had a business partnership that was churning out
moneymaking schemes. By the time he had made his million, he was
a workaholic, and his health was suffering. His wife Linda left
home one day, announcing that she was off to decide whether she
wanted to continue being wed to a man who was married to his
business.
The crisis was dramatically resolved: they were reconciled;
Fuller sold his share of the business and donated a small fortune
to charity. He and Linda kept only several thousand dollars to
start life over, this time with a renewed commitment to the
Christian principles each had grown up with. Fuller's life today
is modest but, he says, far more meaningful. His salary is $14,300;
Linda, who works as his assistant, makes $7,200.
As Habitat's executive director, Millard is "a lot more fun to
live with," Linda says. But he is only slightly less intense than
when he was obsessed by wealth. Habitat staffers say a strange but
not uncommon sight is the gangling Fuller bounding up to the
headquarters, clutching a fistful of trash he swooped up on his
walk to work. He functions as the spiritual leader of the
ecumenical, nonprofit outfit. Much of his time is spent visiting
local Habitat affiliates and proselytizing. Once or twice a year
he takes hammer in hand and helps finish off a Habitat home with
the volunteers. Full-time helpers in Americus, Ga., are paid only
their lodging and a weekly "pig check" -- a $25 certificate
redeemable at the Piggly Wiggly supermarket.
Habitat, which will raise more than $30 million this year, is
not a charity organization. Homeowners must qualify for their loans
and make mortgage payments over a fixed period, typically 20 years.
Also, they abide by a "sweat equity" agreement to participate in
the construction of their own homes and donate so many hours of
labor to building other homes. Insists Fuller: "We're not
caseworkers, we're co-workers."
House-dedication ceremonies are invariably emotional,
spirit-lifting occasions for homeowners. "It's like you've given
'em the moon," Fuller says. Affiliates agree that a by-product of
Habitat projects is enhanced community spirit. Says Fuller:
"Habitat for Humanity has a way of bringing folks together who
normally don't work with each other."
Probably the question most often asked of Fuller is how
Habitat, its success notwithstanding, plans to reach its goal of
wiping out the world's poverty housing. He answers, volubly, "The
Bible says that with God all things are possible. We'll build 2,000
houses this year. We hope to build 4,000 more next year. We're
adding local projects at the rate of one every two days. Man, we're
