By Andrew Braman-WanekWhen our daughter turned one, we knew that it was time for new digs. We adored our tiny cape cod, but could no longer find space for "kid stuff", let alone providing a bonafide bedroom for our young daughter. But, the housing market was in frenzy, and our desired neighborhood it's epitome. Sometimes houses were listed on the market for only a few hours before they were snapped up. We knew a couple that left work immediately upon receiving a call from their realtor about a new listing. They wanted it and knew that not only did they have to bid immediately, they would have to bid high - more than asking. They got their house, but stories like these were demoralizing us. We had neither the time nor the energy to put into such a house hunt. So, we asked our realtor to show us a house that no one else wanted.
She had, in fact, a house that fit the bill. Having been on the market for a year and a half, we had to wonder just how bad it would be. We then found out that the original asking price was about 100K beyond what even the excited market would buy. One neighbor, we later found out, called it the "crack house" -- not because there were ever illegal drugs on the premises, but because she thought the guy selling it "must have been on crack" to ask that much for the house. The seller had done some significant remodeling of his own. Some of it was unfinished, and some of it was just not done well. We concurred that the seller must have been on crack. Nonetheless, price aside, the house had merits. Our realtor explained to us that the house was “market worn”. Other realtors were unconvinced of its value and the seller’s seriousness, and thus, were tired of showing it.
We decided to place an offer at a much much lower price and hoped that the seller, after waiting so long to sell, would finally submit to reality (and our offer). After some negotiation, we got the house that no one else wanted. We never met the seller in person, but already had begun to form a persona for him.
There was much work to do to reach the "adorable" factor that we left in our Cape Cod, but project-by-project, the house began to transform. Each project is perhaps a story of its own. Every time we got into a project, we would have to undo something that the previous owner had done. His last name was Nicholson, and we began to use his name as a curse word when we'd run into another one of his remuddling jobs. "NICHOLSON!!!" I would holler at the top of my lungs. "What now?" my wife would sigh.
The original part of the house dated to the late 1800's was a farmhouse before the neighborhood was developed. No doubt the house has much richer stories than that of the cereal remodelor that occupied it last. But we found ourselves to be most intrigued with Nicholson, who he was and choices he made. None of the neighbors seemed to know Nicholson well, but knew enough to offer a few nuggets of what he and his life was like. We continued to build his persona, defining him as over ambitious about his ability, over extended about his time (for which his family may have suffered most), and over optimistic about the value others would put on his work. Although we used his name in despair, we also felt connected with him, and in a way, felt like we were helping him complete his ambition.
We don’t know whether Nicholson thought of the house as a long-term home for himself and his family, or if it was nothing more than a ‘flip’. But he did see potential in the ugly duckling, as did we. But, when the opportunity to build a new house presented itself to us, we decided to sell the crack house. Our remodeling tactics varied from Nicholson’s, and more importantly, our asking price was realistic. As a result, we had dueling offers and sold the house in five days.
I would like Nicholson to know that although his projects were never completed, and his house wasn’t valued at what he hoped it would be, it allow a young family and opportunity to buy into a great neighborhood, create wonderful memories, and learn a few things about ‘what not to do’ when remodeling.
She had, in fact, a house that fit the bill. Having been on the market for a year and a half, we had to wonder just how bad it would be. We then found out that the original asking price was about 100K beyond what even the excited market would buy. One neighbor, we later found out, called it the "crack house" -- not because there were ever illegal drugs on the premises, but because she thought the guy selling it "must have been on crack" to ask that much for the house. The seller had done some significant remodeling of his own. Some of it was unfinished, and some of it was just not done well. We concurred that the seller must have been on crack. Nonetheless, price aside, the house had merits. Our realtor explained to us that the house was “market worn”. Other realtors were unconvinced of its value and the seller’s seriousness, and thus, were tired of showing it.
We decided to place an offer at a much much lower price and hoped that the seller, after waiting so long to sell, would finally submit to reality (and our offer). After some negotiation, we got the house that no one else wanted. We never met the seller in person, but already had begun to form a persona for him.
There was much work to do to reach the "adorable" factor that we left in our Cape Cod, but project-by-project, the house began to transform. Each project is perhaps a story of its own. Every time we got into a project, we would have to undo something that the previous owner had done. His last name was Nicholson, and we began to use his name as a curse word when we'd run into another one of his remuddling jobs. "NICHOLSON!!!" I would holler at the top of my lungs. "What now?" my wife would sigh.
The original part of the house dated to the late 1800's was a farmhouse before the neighborhood was developed. No doubt the house has much richer stories than that of the cereal remodelor that occupied it last. But we found ourselves to be most intrigued with Nicholson, who he was and choices he made. None of the neighbors seemed to know Nicholson well, but knew enough to offer a few nuggets of what he and his life was like. We continued to build his persona, defining him as over ambitious about his ability, over extended about his time (for which his family may have suffered most), and over optimistic about the value others would put on his work. Although we used his name in despair, we also felt connected with him, and in a way, felt like we were helping him complete his ambition.
We don’t know whether Nicholson thought of the house as a long-term home for himself and his family, or if it was nothing more than a ‘flip’. But he did see potential in the ugly duckling, as did we. But, when the opportunity to build a new house presented itself to us, we decided to sell the crack house. Our remodeling tactics varied from Nicholson’s, and more importantly, our asking price was realistic. As a result, we had dueling offers and sold the house in five days.
I would like Nicholson to know that although his projects were never completed, and his house wasn’t valued at what he hoped it would be, it allow a young family and opportunity to buy into a great neighborhood, create wonderful memories, and learn a few things about ‘what not to do’ when remodeling.
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1 comment:
Lovin' the pic of the peanut on the porch!
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