With self-interest, I read a Jan. 23 article in the Rapid City Journal titled "City looks for ways to protect West Boulevard Historic District."

What interested me most was that the information in it seemed mostly beside the point.

The article quoted various city and Historic Preservation Commission officials voicing understandable concerns about losing their ability to protect the character of the city's Historic District from scofflaws.

In my view, though, what needs protecting far more are the rights of the people who buy homes in the district.

Disclosure: I'm one of them. My wife and I bought a small, charming 1904 bungalow on Columbus Street just before the millennium, and we own it still, although it's a rental now.

The home is located just one house off West Boulevard and is officially located within the Historic District. That simple fact had enormous portent for us.

Unfortunately, although the fact was clear - we could stand in the front yard, clearly see West Boulevard and logically conclude that there was a really good chance we were in the district - the portent part was completely invisible, up to and for some time after the mortgage signing.

But it became crystal clear when we decided to upgrade the home.

Someone mentioned that because it was in the Historical District, any changes needed to be reviewed and approved by the Historical Preservation Commission.

We loved the house, wanted to maintain its general character and believed that the committee was just a bunch of neighborly, accommodating folks who would help guide us in our well-intentioned renovation.

We didn't realize that accommodation was not really a central mandate for the committee.

I had drawn up a simple plan of the rather modest changes we wanted to make to "our" 1,400-square-foot cottage.

We wanted to expand the one-car garage into a two-fer, turn the dusty attic into usable space with windows and a skylight, repair and slightly expand the 7x25-foot enclosed and cockeyed porch at the back of the house, and maybe put a small pool in the back yard.

We were quickly informed that we could do no such things.

For example, the second we tried to enlarge the garage, a district setback rule would kick in, requiring that the garage wall closest to the alleyway would have to be, as I recall, 15 feet from the alley (the existing garage is immediately adjacent to the alley).

If we just shined up the existing garage, we could leave it where it was, but, sorry, we'd have to park one of our cars in the street if we wanted it bigger.

Turning the attic into a useful room was also problematic.

Skylights were not allowed, I was informed, because the house didn't have any originally.

I can't remember what the commission said about the shed windows I envisioned, but I suspect they viewed them with alarm.

Enlarging the enclosed back sleeping porch was a non-starter from the get-go.

Since the porch, haphazardly thrown on, was originally 7-by-25, it apparently was doomed to stay that way until porches became extinct.

But, it's a moot point anyway, because the percentage of our lot covered by buildings when we bought it was already well over the district limit.

So - I'd like to emphasize this point - the house we purchased in good faith and with a genuine reverence for our architectural past could not be expanded one inch - or changed in any exterior way that was meaningful to us, its rightful "owners," without the approval of strangers.

Oh, and there was the pool idea.

No dice. I guess no one on Columbus Street had a Gatsby fantasy in 1904.

Although there appears to be nothing to be done for waylayed historic district folks like us, I would like to recommend that something be done for those unsuspecting and unprepared souls who are sure to follow.

The city could do all prospective district homeowners a huge favor by putting in place a city ordinance requiring that anyone selling a property in the district must provide the prospective buyer with an official packet from the district explaining exactly what that purchase would mean to them.

In other words, the city should require that buyers be told clearly and comprehensively the heavy load of restrictions the purchase will carry.

After all, leaky roofs - a far less onerous problem - must by law be disclosed.

If my wife and I had been so informed, it is doubtful we would have purchased the house, much as we were captivated by its charms.

So, now we own a house we almost literally can't do anything with. We feel deceived, controlled and helpless.

Yes, it's entirely noble that the city wants to preserve parts of its architectural heritage.

But to do it by neglecting to appropriately inform the very people it most affects is not.