It was 2005.
I was back in Grand Rapids, fresh from my annual trip to New York for the CMJ Music Marathon, feeling energized. I had a brand-new career and a newer digital camera. I’d shot on film for many years with my manual brass-bodied Canon TX—sometimes as an amateur, sometimes the local magazines let me publish a photo or two. The idea of taking more than one photo of something and not having to scan them in was incredibly exciting. I had hundreds of digital photos from the previous weekend to review. Later, I’d learn that my cheap fixed-lens unit with no display could produce semi-crisp, soft-focus images only in near-perfect, full-sunlight conditions.
Soft-focus spy camera photo from inside CMJ Music Marathon that year
I plugged my $99 weekender spy camera into my OG laptop through an oversized USB port, kicked my feet up, and got real comfortable. See, I was in the Westdale–Main branch real estate office on a Saturday afternoon, on floor time duty. Agents—especially new ones—would sit there as much as possible, fielding random calls from strangers dialing numbers off company signs in front of homes or from Sunday newspaper ads. Calls would route straight to me. As a bonus, anyone who walked in the front door was also fair game for the floor guy, and I’d do my best to convince them to Use Pete. That was one of my first website URLs–UsePete.com.
That afternoon, I got a call from Mr. W, a gentleman on the brink of retirement, separated from his long-time wife. His girlfriend’s home in Belding, Michigan, was the only thing standing between him and happiness in his next stage of life. Ms. S had hired an agent from another company, who had been given a full 12 months to market her property—with no bites. Me? I was the fresh new guy, convinced I could do everything better than the establishment if only given the chance. I was their best hope.
Spy camera photo of my first listing
Before dedicating my life to selling homes, I had done a few home renovations and had experimented with what worked and whatnot. After viewing their beautiful home, I decided that all they needed was fresh carpet in the lower level, some power washing on the exterior, and a lot of pruning, trimming, and potted plants. I took new listing photos with my trusty digital camera, listed it $5,000 higher than before, and had the place sold in less than a week.
Now-newlyweds W&S were thrilled and grateful. It was a time full of happiness and new beginnings. I had suddenly become a friend and their trusted Realtor for Life. We talked about cars—especially Mr. W’s new convertible. They owned a fascinating vacation property Up North that they barely used and wanted me to check out. And they made some big plans to buy a hot new condo together and sell their empty nest!
We quickly got down to business. I listed the home, and we received a great offer in short order. I met with them one weekday evening to get the pen-and-ink acceptance documents signed. That’s how we rolled back then, especially with clients who were less likely to have a scanner. As a professional, I knew to always use blue ink pens—to distinguish original, wet-ink documents from less-serious black-and-white copies. We might have had a beer as we sat around the dinette set, wrapping up paperwork.
Mr. W noticed an unopened envelope on the table. It was from his physician. He opened it on the spot, read it carefully, and then translated it for Mrs. W and me with intention. One of his recent test results warranted another visit to the doctor and another test; he’d call tomorrow.
A week later, he visited the doctor and never came home. He passed away under the doctor’s care.
What happened next was heartbreaking.
Mr. W’s adult children immediately jumped in and filed a lawsuit to stop the sale of their childhood home (which had a mortgage paid off in full only through the sale of Ms. S’s home in Belding). This also meant the contingent condo we had pending was also frozen. The kids tried to discredit their new stepmom and took the matter to court. It took a month or two to sort out, and ultimately, my client prevailed. But the battle—and the circumstances—took a toll on Ms. S, who had been used to mostly positive and cordial interactions with Mr. W’s kids. I felt the pain all around, especially through my interactions with the eldest son.
Twenty years later, my camera evolution went from Canon EOS D6 → EOS Rebel to now—where my cell phone takes better photos than all of them, even in the dark. Unless, of course, I get lucky with my Canon TX film camera. These days, I leave my home photos to the pros.
I also get everything in writing. I follow the letter of the law through careful analysis in every single transaction. I think hard before offering advice on how to proceed in real estate transactions among friends, partners, LLCs, and spouses—because you never know when a single piece of paper will drop in, change everything, and challenge all you’ve fought for.
Good thing we did everything right.
Yet—lessons learned.
