The tall, sandy beige home is nearly finished, complete with six-over-one windows, a brick chimney, Adirondack chairs on the porch and Craftsman-style lanterns hanging from the garage.

All that's left to do outside is install the landscaping and turn on the sprinkler.

The home's design pleases many neighbors, but it has not changed the minds of some others involved in the controversial decision last year to tear down the 1914 home that had occupied the property.

That structure became the center of a dispute among people who care about preserving older homes.

Today, those who were against the demolition are still against it, and those in favor say the new home's beauty shows it was a good decision.

"The house is a beautiful house, there's no doubt about it," said one critic, Jean Kessloff, a neighborhood resident and a Historic Preservation Commission member who was against tearing the old house down. But, she said, "Part of the historic fabric of the boulevard is gone, and it's gone forever."

THE FIXER-UPPER

The controversy began when developer Jim Letner and his wife, Lillian, purchased the home. Their family had lived outside the city on Nemo Road, but Lillian, who grew up in Pittsburgh, wanted to move into town.

"I'm a big-city girl," she said.

Her husband asked her where in town she wanted to live, and she did not give him much choice.

West Boulevard, she told him.

The neighborhood?

No, she said, the street.

Homes on the boulevard do not come up for sale very often.

"We were looking year after year after year," Lillian Letner said.

When they found the home at 1204, they knew it would be a fixer-upper, covered inside and out with brown paneling, but that did not deter them. They bought it for $190,000, county real estate records show, and took a look behind the walls. That's when the problem started.

Letner was hoping for salvageable woodwork and other details that would make the home worth saving.

Instead, "Everything was hacked to death," she said. "There was nothing to salvage. And the foundation was completely and utterly flawed."

They would have considered raising the home and installing a new foundation, but, Letner said, "It was like, what are we saving?"

They decided that even though it was possible to restore the home, it was not practical, and it would be best to tear it down and start over.

Getting the demolition permit proved the hard part.

PRESERVATION TURF BATTLE

Like the Letners, leaders of the West Boulevard Neighborhood Association wanted the home gone, saying it was an eyesore that detracted from the area's value.

But the Rapid City Historic Preservation Commission ruled that, even though the home itself was not considered a "contributing structure" in the West Boulevard Historic District because of earlier changes to the exterior, tearing it down would adversely affect the district.

The commission's decisions are not binding, and the Rapid City Council could have approved a demolition permit anyway. But before that could happen, the State Historic Preservation Office overruled the city commission, finding that tearing the house down would not harm the boulevard's historic district.

After a dispute over which group has the authority to make such decisions, Rapid City's city attorney said the power is with the state, and the local commission serves only as an adviser.

The house was torn down in April 2007, and neighbors have watched with interest construction of a new home.

DEBATE CONTINUES

No one says the home is unattractive. But for Kessloff and others, it is a shame it was allowed to be built.

"Regardless of how I would feel about the design or construction of the new house, it was the old house that we were attempting to salvage," said Ken Loeschke, president of the city Historic Preservation Committee and a resident of west Rapid City.

If the issue arose today, Kessloff said, "I wouldn't have changed my decision in any way, even seeing the house there now, because it's still a new house. It's a beautiful home, but when you drive down the boulevard, you still notice it," she said, explaining she thinks the style does not blend in.

"It doesn't have the historic fabric," she said.

But Mike Pelly sees something different when he drives down the boulevard.

"I think it is entirely appropriate for its location," he said. Pelly, president of the neighborhood association, lives two blocks south of the new home and is no advocate for tear-downs or reckless remodels.

"I hate to lose a historic contribution, but that building was not contributing," he said. On the new home, "The landscaping is moving slowly forward, and I can see progress every day. By the end of the summer, I don't think anybody is even going to notice."

That's what Lillian Letner hopes for.

"We feel we created a house that goes with the rhythm of the neighborhood and is in keeping with the other houses in the neighborhood." she said.

Neighbors have been "over the top" about the change, she said. The old house was run-down and bred crime, she said.

"Thank you for getting rid of this," she said neighbors have told her.

SETTING A STANDARD

Fortunately, Pelly said, similar controversy is not likely to arise again soon. He said the home is the first house built on the boulevard in 50 years, since the brick ranch at 1616 West Blvd. was built in 1957.

Other homes are in good enough shape they should not need to be razed.

"That to me is a very, very rare occurrence," said Pat Roselund, a member of the preservation commission. "Most houses in this area can be restored to what their original beauty was."

Roselund said he was a "lone duck" on the commission. At first, he protested tearing the house down, like others, but came to change his mind, believing the 1914 structure had to go.

A year later, the demolition issue has not arisen with any other historic home. But people do still talk about it, Roselund said.

"People say, 'Remember 1204,' like, 'Remember the Maine,'" he said. "They don't want it to happen again, and I don't want it to happen again."