Always Confirm The Rumors First

From when I was four until I was about thirteen, my father worked for a non-profit religious organization. This wasn’t the usual “famous preacher”-type organization, and employees weren’t paid all that much, nor did the organization have a ton of money for property. But they did get a significant donation allowing them to move out of their office building (which was on the verge of needing to be condemned) and into a defunct Catholic seminary in rural Missouri.

We were living in Florida at the time and my parents were asked to work at the new headquarters, so my family became the “lead” to go scout out the area for housing.

My father found a realtor and answered the usual question about price ranges for a house. Then, he started showing us places. I remember one really trashy house that had a dirt basement. The main floor in the house was so warped that it was like there was a hill in the middle of the house. The asking price was that of a well-kept modern five-bedroom house. Everything we looked at was overpriced by three or four times what you could get a house for elsewhere. 

My parents tried a different realtor. We walked into the office and my dad asked about their listings.

Agent: “Yes! We have a listing!”

One. One listing for a real estate office. I was only about twelve and even I knew this was ridiculous. And there were several more agencies just like this one.

Lest this seem like an episode of “The Twilight Zone” with property values gone mad, here’s the reason: rumor went around the town that a major corporation took over the seminary and rich executives were going to be paid to relocate. Based only on the rumor, people opened real estate offices and homeowners jacked prices to insane levels.

My parents cancelled relocating there and we returned to Grand Rapids. It would be well over a year before the actual move happened, and by then, my father had taken a different job. My dad’s best friend became the head of the organization and, in the end, his was the only family to make the move. I guess they just hired people who already lived nearby.