How to describe our quandary…? When we started searching for a home farther from D.C. we were stunned to see how much prices had risen. Houses comparable to ours were selling for $100k more than the value of our house, and we were not at a stage of life to incur debt. In reviewing hundreds of houses and visiting dozens, we considered everything from: should we rent a portion of the new home? That would negate the hoped for privacy. Should we level the condemned building on the pretty hillside and build new? That would be a drive from the children and a lot of work/cost. In short, nothing was close to ideal, and even ‘making the best’ of the situation seemed a step backward.
And then, one week before closing, we spotted something unique.
In retrospect, we were served by the timing. It was the third week of September – not a heavy house shopping timeframe. And the sale was being administered by a friend and caretaker of the property. The owner was in Bulgaria. He and his wife had returned there so she could spend her final days in her homeland.
The caretaker was highly committed to the owner and the property. He had installed the plumbing 40 years earlier during its construction, and had been instrumental in almost every improvement since. By his conviction then, he wasn’t about to have a real estate lockbox on the door so “any person could just walk in without him there.” The singular viewing would be when he was available. I noted his name on the legal attachments in the email: James.
When we entered on the one short-notice weekday viewing of the house, I noted somebody with a Vet cap shuffling to the fridge. As he turned to walk out I took a chance and called out: “Hey James!” To which he stopped, turned and asked: “How did you know my name?” “It was on the papers,” I replied.
After viewing the house, I found James and his friend sitting on the tailgate of a pickup in the driveway chatting. I queried whether I could ask him a few questions about the place to which he replied, “I don’t know if I can answer them.” What followed was a delightful 90-minute conversation about the property, James’ involvement with the house and owners, as well as his family and history. It was a joy just to get to know him and hear his many stories of the place.
As the open house concluded and people filed out, James and I were on the back deck alone. “So, who makes the decision about who gets the place?” I asked. “I do,” said James in his typically direct manner. “So… what’s your favorite beer?” I jokingly asked with a light-hearted smile. He didn’t respond, but he did say, “Your name is Steve, right?”
We put in a bid that night. The decision was to be only two days later.
Thursday, we received a call from our agent: “There was a bid placed higher than ours. Did we want to change it?” Ouch! We had given a good bid. I wanted the house bad, but to incur additional debt? We prayed. We decided to hold.
That evening, while a dear friend was joining us for dinner in the basement — (the only non-staged part of our ‘under contract’ house) we got the news: they had gone with our bid! The moment was surreal and the celebration joyous.
But I haven’t told you everything about the house. That’s another story.