Today I had some really disturbing news from one of my buyers. He had been in the neighborhood where we are scheduled to close on a property next Friday. The deal has been up and down, extended this long since an early March contract date for very legitimate reasons beyond the buyers' control. Today however, in talking to some neighbors, he learned that the previous owner had committed suicide in the garage.
When I heard this in a phone call from the buyer this afternoon, he asked if the bank was required to disclose this. It is a bank-owned property, surprise! No, the bank is not required to disclose this, and in Michigan, nor are realtors since it is a non-material fact of the real estate. Of course, had I known it, I would have disclosed it, and in talking to the listing agent, he did not know it either.
My team leader came by right after I learned this and I mentioned it to him. He asked the address and commented that it was not the same place he was thinking of. Apparently someone in our office has a listing where another homeowner committed suicide in their pole barn.
Things have been not good in Michigan for some time but there is light at the end of the tunnel. A recent Today show
segment featured Barbara Corcoran and while she admitted that the Detroit metro area is one of the six most depressed markets in the nation, she also said that this area is on the way back up. It is official. We have hit bottom. Sadly, some homeowners hit bottom before the news got out.
I took this news in stride in the office but came home for a long power nap, awaking very subdued. I was physically refreshed but could not help but dwell on the news I heard today. We may talk in generalities about the number of foreclosures, the difficulties of short sales, the drastically reduced assessments. The human toll is rarely mentioned. Today I looked it in the eye and it hurt, literally.
As I drove to the supermarket for the requisite milk and bread, I had a song stuck in my head. "Be Not Afraid." It is a beautiful and sad song we sing in church, lax as I have been in attending of late, but the roots are deep. I remember being unable to sing this song the Sunday after our country invaded Iraq; the words were too difficult. I also could not sing it when we buried my little nephew recently. I'm sure the author of the song meant it to be uplifting, an affirmation that even in death there is hope. It just makes me cry. So crying is what I did, driving back from the supermarket.
You know what? I felt better. There is the release of tension that tears bring, but I think in this case it was more about faith, deep within me and sidelined far too easily. I don't know what end of life brings.
I don't know where the 40-something man who ended his life is now; none of us really does. I have faith though that there is peace in the end, whatever a person's belief system is, even if it is just that the pain of living is done. That light at the end of the tunnel I mentioned earlier? I have faith it is not related only to real estate. In the end, if I have the means, I'll blog about that too. I'll try my best to get back to you on that....
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