Fifteen year old Buckaroo, drenched in sweat, had a moment of clarity last week. "What you do isn't about selling houses," he said with a bit of wisdom. Part of this revelation came from the fact he had just spent several hours in a hot house helping an 80 year old man move. But, he was right.
Very little of what real estate agents do has anything to do with the actual house. It has to do with the people. This past Sunday, after 8 p.m., I was on the phone with another agent, a home inspector and my client, renegotiating the start time for the home inspection. Why? Because the home inspector announced if they couldn't get into my listing at 7 a.m., life would end. However, I wasn't about to let them and I wasn't about to break it to the tenant they had to let in a perfect stranger at 7 a.m.
In the end, the rest of us managed to convince the home inspector he had to pick a different time. Also in the end, I showed up on the tenant's doorstep yesterday with movie passes so he and his family had something to do for a few hours while the home inspection took place. None of this had anything to do with a house. It had to do with accommodating folks who are being inconvenienced--except the home inspector, who is not happy about the time change. Can't win them all.
But this is minor in the grand scheme of things. Jane's story is not.
Last week Jane had a closing. Her clients were an 80 year old couple who had been in their home for 30 years. These folks had built this home, raised their children there, played with their grand babies in this house, and sadly, watched one child pass on. All in this home. However, once it closed the owner wasn't in a great hurry to leave. Of course, that meant the buyer couldn't get into the house either. But fortunately the buyer was out of town.
So, though the home closed on Thursday, he still hadn't moved out on Friday. He even told Jane he wasn't leaving until the buyer verified with him personally they were turning on the water, because he didn't want the plants to die--and he had no problem spending the weekend in the house. Jane explained, they weren't his plants any more, but that didn't deter him.
Jane also had lined up movers earlier in the week for the seller. The same movers the seller fired as soon as they set foot on his property. This 80 year old man would be loading the Uhaul by himself, thank you very much. He didn't need to pay $200 to some guys who were willing to work in the 100+ degree weather. (by the way, the house he sold went for more than $500,000--all of that was proceeds to him, so the $200 wasn't the issue).
Friday morning, Jane called me in a panic, what was Buckaroo doing right then and there? SHE would personally pay him to help her clients move out of the home. Then she picked him up and brought him to the seller (who, by the way, does have another place to live). Jane held the wife's hand throughout the day as she cried about leaving the home she loved. She bought Gatorade for Buckaroo and the husband (who kept firing Buckaroo because he was loading the "damn Uhaul too fast" and they needed to take their time, as he was in no hurry to leave). When the truck was loaded and Buckaroo officially dismissed, the husband then broke down and cried like he had never cried before. Jane was there for him.
I am glad Jane was the agent for them. Comforting, loving, understanding--that's the kind of thing she was born to do. Jane also followed up a couple of times this week to make sure they were settling in nicely.
Zillow doesn't talk about this kind of thing. Moving can be such a personal and emotional experience. What I do is rarely about the house. It is always about the people.
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