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From the pages of the Eichler Network Newsletter
By Marty Arbunich, Editor
 When Catherine Munson and her husband Bill departed Middle America and their native Nebraska for Northern California in 1953, Catherine had anticipated that her double masters degree in microbiology and microchemistry would be put to good use laying a foundation for a conventional American family reared under a conventional American roof.
As the story goes, Catherine's three daughters arrived in rapid order, but the masters degree was retired early, a framed artifact in a house - a flat-topped Eichler that dared both tradition and the cookie-cutter formula - which led the young lady astray on an impassioned love affair for the next four decades.
Even though Catherine's infatuation with Eichler living would steer her, in a few short years, to enlist in Joe Eichler's sales staff, this was not an episode of love at first sight. That fact was substantiated in late 1954, shortly after the Munsons had purchased their first California home, a rather traditional one, in Mill Valley.
"After visiting a friend who had a new Eichler home up in Terra Linda,"she told us, "we went home that night and agreed it was simply the worst house we had ever seen. Whatever could have possessed them to buy this
dreadful thing, we thought."But, in the midst of remodeling our own house, something kept pulling us north to those Eichler model homes for inspiration. The more we went back there, the more we realized that we just loved those houses, and that they really expressed what our dream of living in California was all about. That began a saga of being absolutely stricken with Eichler
homes."
As a result, the Munsons put their Mill Valley house on the market in 1955, and enjoyed the good fortune of selling it for twice their original purchase price. "We quickly ran to the nearest Eichler home in
Terra Linda," she recalled with lingering satisfaction in her voice.
"What's more, it was larger, and cost us less."
With one child in the crib and another on the way, Catherine appeared to have a grip on her immediate role in life. That all changed, however, when the late Bud Sthymmel, the enthusiastic Eichler sales rep who sold
the Munsons their home, took advantage of Catherine's fondness for the
Eichlers, piquing her curiosity when he offered her a fluff position, as
a part-time hostess, in the Terra Linda sales office.
"I had never been somebody who plotted my course terribly clearly," Catherine said with a grin. "Consequently, thanks to Bud, my traditional life lasted only a few short weeks. I was being sucked into a vortex."
In spite of her humble beginnings in the organization, Catherine accepted her Eichler role gracefully, sensing that she had become a part of something very special. "It was a traditional 1950s attitude," she
added, then laughed.
"And the Eichler organization had this concept that
these hostesses were to be some sweet, little housewives who told the
potential buyers as they walked through how groovy it was to live in an
Eichler home. We were supposed to look pretty and decorative,
demonstrate the swivel table, and serve chocolate milk and graham
crackers to the kids."
In 1958, as the hostess concept caught on throughout the company and the role began to evolve, Catherine, now with three toddlers at home, found new ways to make her two days a week in the office more of a challenge.
"I got my real estate license and started setting a goal for
myself of selling a house every Friday," she said. "I wasn't competing with the salesman or cutting into his commission,
because I was still getting $3 an hour whether I sold a house or not. He
got the commission, which was probably all of $200. I didn't sell a
house every Friday, but those were good days and I sold one often."
So intrigued by all the activity, Catherine continued to put her science research career on hold to ride the whirlwind alongside
Sthymmel, jumping between Terra Linda and Marinwood (and later Upper
Lucas Valley) opening and selling a series of new subdivisions. As her
role expanded to that of a full-time salesperson, Catherine had become
well aware that even though she had gained the respect and appreciation
of her peers, she stood alone as the only woman from the hostess corp to
have moved up.
"I don't think Joe Eichler discriminated against me in any way,"
Catherine offered firmly. "He had a cadre of established salespeople,
and they just all happened to be men. "I was totally comfortable. I didn't think much about it [being the only woman], because in my background I was always the only one -in college, in graduate school, and in my science work."
As a sales team, Catherine Munson and Bud Sthymmel were matched like hand and glove, and Sthymmel's enthusiasm for life, people, and Eichlers made the relationship that much more enjoyable for Catherine. "Bud was
the reason why Eichler was so successful in Marin," she claimed. "He was
surely an exciting person. And anyone who ever knew him would tell you
that. Together in that environment, we couldn't have been more
compatible and more co-stimulating."
Into the early '60s, Eichler Homes' competition in Marin came more from the mushrooming new home construction than from the existing real estate market. Merchant builders like Kenney Homes and American Housing Guild,
both of which erected traditional family houses, also in subdivisions,
were seen as threats. "But nobody built as many homes there as Eichler,"
added Catherine, "even when you add all their numbers together."
It wasn't difficult for the competition to sway the uneducated house shoppers, many of whom were already befuddled by Eichler modernism, with a neat package of barbs directed at the integrity of Joe Eichler's
product -from "the flammability of the structure" to "the dark and
dreary walls."
"Some made negative remarks," remembers Catherine, "and many times you could see the puzzlement when they walked in. We had an explanation for
every possible objection. We would simply address their concerns, and
never get confrontational.
"It seemed that 95 percent of the people who came to the subdivisions disliked our homes because they simply didn't understand the houses. But the other five percent were such exciting people, and it was so
wonderful to find them. They were the ones who were open to new ideas,
to change, to a different way of doing things."
And of course they were the ones who stayed around at least long enough to appreciate Catherine's house tour, which was punctuated by a four-pronged checklist that gave prospects a starting point for
intellectualizing some very real benefits in owning an Eichler.
"People bought Eichler homes," she explained, "when they became
educated to what the house was about, what you could put in it, and how
you could impact your lifestyle.
"We would tell them we wanted them to imagine the house cut in two diagonal parts. On one side we had the master bedroom, the study, the
living room, the dining room - the adult side of the house. On the other
side, the kitchen, the family room, the three children's bedrooms.
'Isn't that interesting,' they would say.
"When the Eichler atriums were introduced in 1958, we began to show people how much more pleasant a room was if it had light coming in from
both sides.
"We showed how this was regional architecture designed for a benign climate, perfect for the Bay Area. And we put a huge emphasis on the "no
stairs', and how the levelness of the house induced you to keep going
outdoors.
"Finally, we showed people lifestyles, and showed the versatility and the flexibility of placing artwork and different kinds of furnishing in the houses. We referred to the houses as blank galleries, and that had tremendous appeal."
Catherine continues to resurrect her memories of Eichler Homes with fondness, her voice bubbling with verve at each mention of her
serendipitous journey, the boldness of the Eichler enterprise, and the
homeowners' spirit of adventure. For her, it's all still intact, frozen
in time.
"Those years seemed like eating ice cream," she said with affection. "It was that exciting."
For the past 21 years, Catherine Munson has lived in the same Jones (&) Emmons A-frame Eichler. She has purchased and remodeled 19 of them in San Rafael's Upper Lucas Valley, a community she embraces with great dedication.
Bill Munson died in 1967. In 1975, Bud Sthymmel and Catherine Munson were married. Bud passed away in 1990.
Following Joseph Eichler's death in 1974, Catherine launched Lucas Valley Properties, a real estate and property management company that she continues to operate today. "I'm an Eichler lover most of all, even in my own business," she says.
Catherine is a welcome addition to the Eichler Network team.
See other Eichler Modern Stories
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