My Story | David Olson, Builder, Broker and Guide

It's 10:43 p.m. on a Tuesday. The inspection report is eighty-six pages long. You've read the first thirteen pages twice and you still don't know if the house is fine or a colossal hidden money pit. Your spouse is across the table asking what you think, and you honestly really don't know. It's overwhelming, to say the least.

The inspector flagged it. The agent said it's nothing. One contractor said four thousand, the other said eleven. The lender needs an answer by Friday. Everyone has an opinion, most of them get paid when you decide, and underneath all of it is the thing you haven't said out loud: what if we get this wrong, and there's no one to blame but us?

Not one of them can answer the only question that matters: who here actually understands you, this journey, and what you really want — and can explain all eighty-six pages of it clearly enough that you finally understand it too? Who actually cares? And when it comes down to it, who can you truly trust?

David Olson built his career to be the answer to that question.

He learned to swing a hammer beside his grandpa in rural Minnesota long before he was ever building homes or writing contracts. He spent years as a pastor, learning to listen to what people weren't saying. And for more than two decades he has been a real estate broker and home builder, with over three thousand homes closed across the Twin Cities, Minnesota's lake country, Wisconsin and Florida.

Along the way he became the rare person who holds all the pieces at once. He is a licensed broker, a licensed builder and a licensed insurance agent. When he walks a house with you, he sees what the inspector will find, what the repair will cost, what the lender will say and what the policy will cover, before anyone else has opened their mouth. The noise goes quiet, because the one person who can hear through all of it is standing next to you.

But the thing David actually believes is simpler than any of that. A home isn't a structure. It's the life you share inside it with the people that you love the most. It's where your daughter learns to ride a bike, where the dog sleeps at the foot of the bed, where the light hits the kitchen on a Saturday morning, where someone is singing off-key in the shower and the whole house is laughing about it. He knows this because he lives it, in Chaska with his wife and three daughters, and at the family cabin on the Whitefish Chain, where he paints wildlife with his girls when the work is done.

So he doesn't match you to a house. He matches you to the life you truly want and need, and then he makes sure the house can hold it.

You don't need to sort out who to trust. You just need one person who has done it over three thousand times.