Building it Forward

KANSAS CITY, Mo. – “Move … that … bus! Move … that … bus!”
The chanting starts, and the tension mounts. Fans are lined up for blocks. Leaning on metal stanchions in the hot afternoon sun, they’re waiting for firefighter Stephen Johnson and his family to see their new home. Some of them have been there since 4 a.m.
It’s almost 2:30 p.m. now, and the “reveal” is about to happen. That’s reality show lingo for that moment when one lucky family is given a big surprise – a gimmick taken straight from the old 1956 game show “Queen for a Day,” in which a pitiful housewife was given roses and a crown, and often a washer/dryer set.
In this case, a brown charter bus blocking the view of a beautiful new house will soon drive away, unveiling a dream come true for Johnson and his five kids.
Finally, the moment arrives and the crowd goes wild. Johnson (who has never married) and his children – Stephen Jr., 18, Duane, 14, Gina, 12, as well as two kids he rescued from foster care, Brandon, 15, and Ryan, 13 – can’t believe it. They squeal, shout and weep with joy.
“It was a gift from God and ABC,” Johnson says later, after he has had a chance to let it all sink in.
That’s the way it goes each Sunday night on “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” (8 p.m. on KXLY-4 in Spokane).
One hard-luck family – tonight, the Johnsons – gets prizes, the most fabulous of them all being a completely redone, upgraded or all-new amazing house.
Though makeover shows can be found in some form on almost every channel, nothing draws viewers like “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition.”
The series, which premiered in December 2003, has become a surprise hit and shows no signs of slowing. It’s averaging about 16 million viewers an episode this season, making it ABC’s No. 5 show among total viewers and No. 4 among adults aged 18 to 49. A new season has been ordered for fall.
It won the 2004 Family Television Award for best reality show and 2005 People’s Choice Award for favorite reality show.
But it has become more than just a successful reality series. What may have seemed at first to be an updated version of “This Old House” has become a spiritual happening, more revival meeting than TV taping.
With its charitable sensibilities and ability to mobilize entire communities with a single episode, “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” is setting a standard for a new genre: Good Samaritan television.
“I’ve had people come up to me and say this is like a religious experience,” says Denise Cramsey, co-executive producer, standing on the Johnsons’ back deck. “It’s a modern-day barn-raising.”
For this “build” (as it’s called by those involved), the production company, Endemol USA, estimates that 1,500 volunteers helped redo the Johnson house, which went from 1,200 square feet to 3,211 square feet, from two bedrooms to six.
On-site producers also estimate that 10,000 fans – more than any city so far – showed up just to watch the unveiling and taping of the episode.
“I cry every week,” says Ruby Vinke, 59, a school cook.
“My kids and I watch it,” says Rob Velasquez, 33, an engineer.
“It’s cool all these people volunteer,” says Jessica Malone, 17, a senior at Raytown South High School.
Even after the reveal, they’re still standing around.
“They just want to be part of it,” Cramsey says. “Our show is not a pop-culture moment. It’s a from-the-heart moment.”
It’s also a get-a-glimpse-of-a-cute-guy moment. Kristin Farnsworth, 20, is here for one reason: “Ed.” She means the British carpenter Ed Sanders, a relative newcomer to the show who has become almost as popular with fans as the show’s host, Ty Pennington.
“Bizarre!” Pennington says when his rock-star status is pointed out. “I try not to take it too seriously.”
But he takes the show very seriously, saying it “gives me more hope in humanity.
“This pay-it-forward type vibe spreads. It’s bigger than building a house,” Pennington says, choking up.
“I’m not the kind of person who cries a lot, but this journey has taken me places. Let’s be honest. I’ve got the greatest job in America. We make a difference.”
They don’t do it alone, of course. Each week, it seems, the ABC Web site’s list of featured products for each episode grows.
In addition to Sears being a major national sponsor of the show, the list of donors – national and local – is long, from electrical to plumbing to the DNA sequencing machine for Ryan Johnson’s special spy-themed room.
Designer Constance Ramos, an architect, remembers back to the first show. “I had no idea what I was getting into,” she says.
Now, people on the street regularly hand her business cards, offering to help. “To see the outpouring of love, that’s bigger than anything,” she says.
More than a thousand letters and tapes are received by producers each day requesting the chance to be on the show, but only 24 new houses are built each season.
Executive producer Tom Forman’s criteria: “Who can really benefit from what we do? We know we can’t solve all of their problems, so we try to see who is in a situation where it really is their house making a difference. You look for people who have been active in their community and helped others, and given back.”
The stories are sad: a young girl with a rare skin disorder, a basketball player left paralyzed by a gang shooting, a widow and mother of three whose husband perished in a fire that destroyed their home.
The show, Forman says, is “a win-win situation” – a hit for the network, a boon for Sears and anyone else who gets a product mentioned, and a help to needy families.
He tells himself to “just enjoy it, because this is never going to happen again in your career – harnessing the power of television to do something good for people.”