Quick backstory: I went to visit 80 year old Mrs. Meadows last month. She was refinancing her hacienda in Cochise County. She used a loan officer recommend by her nephew. The loan officer basically took the credit application and then sent her a bunch of papers to electronically sign. He didn't explain anything to her. He didn't follow up. He didn't provide any modicum of customer service, support or goodwill for his client. As much as I would love to have found a better loan officer, to do so might have caused a few bigger issues because I am not related to her and I have a real estate license. Plus, it was a pretty good loan and the fees (verified by my loan officer) were reasonable. The only recommendation I made was to use my escrow officer because Mrs. Meadow's home is in a trust, and I knew my escrow officer would make sure it stayed in her trust after refinancing.
Anyway, I just happened to be with her when all this went down last month.
Now then, please fast forward to Tuesday morning. I got a phone call from my escrow officer. Mrs. Meadow's refinance documents were ready for her to sign. And by the way, because they are time sensitive, they had to be signed on Wednesday. And, was I going to take them down to her in Southeast Arizona?
The short answer was "sure, why not?" However, I am not a notary. Though I could meet her with the actual documents, I couldn't notarize them. Not a problem, my escrow officer would find a notary. I changed a few events around on my schedule and voila! My day was open for the 3.5 hour drive, each way.
I was so paranoid about these loan documents that I left them in my car Tuesday night, lest I forgot them on my kitchen counter. I went out Tuesday night and took the other car, because I wanted nothing to happen to the car or the documents. Even on the drive down, I glanced at the car seat once or twice, just verifying I had everything with me. This entire experience was so far out of my wheelhouse.
Sometimes favors are favors. Favors that come with a real estate license are called liabilities.This was even more true after Mrs. Meadows signed. You see, she actually paid off her first mortgage and was only taking out a marginal loan amount. That meant she provided escrow with a cashier's check with a very sizable sum that I was now responsible for. I did a quick calculation in my head, there was no way I could sell my cars, children and pets and come up with enough to cover this check if it went missing on my watch. At lunch (I also took her to quick lunch for her birthday) that envelope sat between us. When I got up to use the restroom, Mrs. M., guarded her money. Even in a super-duper small town, I wasn't taking any chances. I didn't stop for gas, iced tea or calls of nature until I was back at the escrow office. I had left my home just shy of 6:30 that morning and I was back in Gilbert by 2:45 p.m.
Though Mrs. Meadows thanked me about 16 times for giving her a peace of mind, truly me being involved made her signing more high maintenance. Otherwise, the loan documents would have been e-mailed to the notary and she would have just met Mrs. Meadows, had her sign and e-mailed everything back. The money Mrs. M. was issuing to the escrow company could have been wired with a bit of finagling from a few third parties. However, she asked me to be there. This woman is a true delight. I would have made this drive if it were twice as long. It was my honor to serve her.
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