When looking at foreclosed houses, we often check out the rest of the neighborhood to see if there are other houses in the immediate area that are also vacant and foreclosed that we can pick up as well. Turning multiple houses within a few blocks of each other gives us a greater opportunity to maximize the impact of public funds aimed at helping to keep neighborhoods from tipping into vacant danger zones.
With that in mind, I went cruising around a few days ago looking at HUD foreclosed homes. I found one in a subdivision that I liked. In true subdivision style, the house was on a street called Gopher Pause Lane, not Paws as in feet, but Pause as in "The Men All Pause" (thank you, Klymaxx). I should have known it would be an eventful evening.
The out of control lawn at the house next door to the HUD house made me think it might be vacant so I jotted down that address for further research. Another house, across from the HUD house, also had the general disheveled look of a vacant house and a lockbox. There was no sign out front, so I drove over to get the address, but I couldn't find it. Usually when I look at houses, I do it in the middle of the day so most of the neighbors aren't home. I was behind that day, so it was about 6pm and I was not able to prowl in private, as is my wont. A young man in his teens was standing on his lawn watching me do the drive-by roll back and forth in front of the vacant house. My window was down so he called out, "You trying to find somebody?"
"No, I'm just trying to find the address on this house. Do you know it?"
"Nah," and he walked over to the car where we started up a conversation about all kinds of things: how the neighborhood used to be so much more fun when there were lots of kids hanging around outside in the middle of the street, but since the police broke it up it's been really quiet and by the way, police helicopters are brown and gold, not silver and black like the one flying overhead now; how if I am not the one moving in, could we please find families with teenage girls so he won't have to get in his car to visit girls; and finally about how he is going to complete his education so he can buy a nice house that is the envy of his friends.
At that point, he started yelling over to his backyard where 2 other young men were, "Hey! Shot me one! Shot me one!"
"What's 'shot me one'?" I asked, still sitting in my car.
"I'm asking him for a cigarette."
"A cigarette?! You are too young to be smoking!"
"I'm a grown man," he protested.
"A grown man in high school," I shot back.
He grinned. "Yeah."
At this point the 2 guys and a younger girl came over to the car. He introduced me to them as his cousins and sister. After the pleasantries, they offered to help me find the address. I got out of the car and started poking around under the overgrowth on the curb then someone piped up behind me, "Hey, why don't you look inside to see if there is any mail with the address on it?"
"I can't get inside. There's a lockbox," I yelled back.
Then silence. And again the grin, "I can get you inside. We used to hang out in there, but it's boring now."
Before I could protest, my new friend had sauntered over and opened the unsecured garage door which led to an open door inside the house.
Well, you know I ducked on into the house to see whether they had ruined it and if I wanted it. They didn't and I did. As I stood at the bottom of the stairs watching one kid wave unopened mail over the bannister, another kid called out from the front of the house that he had found the broken mailbox under the front porch. It had enough numbers on it for me to ascertain the address and after the young girl asked her brother to bring home an old mirror that was lying in the garage of the house (if it had been a fixture I would have protested but sometimes you have to pick your battles), we started heading away from our trespass. After a brief tutorial on my hair (I have locks), I got in the car, promised to try to find families with daughters and left.
I'm learning to be flexible in this line of work. So there is more than one way to skin a cat on Gopher Pause Lane.
With that in mind, I went cruising around a few days ago looking at HUD foreclosed homes. I found one in a subdivision that I liked. In true subdivision style, the house was on a street called Gopher Pause Lane, not Paws as in feet, but Pause as in "The Men All Pause" (thank you, Klymaxx). I should have known it would be an eventful evening.
The out of control lawn at the house next door to the HUD house made me think it might be vacant so I jotted down that address for further research. Another house, across from the HUD house, also had the general disheveled look of a vacant house and a lockbox. There was no sign out front, so I drove over to get the address, but I couldn't find it. Usually when I look at houses, I do it in the middle of the day so most of the neighbors aren't home. I was behind that day, so it was about 6pm and I was not able to prowl in private, as is my wont. A young man in his teens was standing on his lawn watching me do the drive-by roll back and forth in front of the vacant house. My window was down so he called out, "You trying to find somebody?"
"No, I'm just trying to find the address on this house. Do you know it?"
"Nah," and he walked over to the car where we started up a conversation about all kinds of things: how the neighborhood used to be so much more fun when there were lots of kids hanging around outside in the middle of the street, but since the police broke it up it's been really quiet and by the way, police helicopters are brown and gold, not silver and black like the one flying overhead now; how if I am not the one moving in, could we please find families with teenage girls so he won't have to get in his car to visit girls; and finally about how he is going to complete his education so he can buy a nice house that is the envy of his friends.
At that point, he started yelling over to his backyard where 2 other young men were, "Hey! Shot me one! Shot me one!"
"What's 'shot me one'?" I asked, still sitting in my car.
"I'm asking him for a cigarette."
"A cigarette?! You are too young to be smoking!"
"I'm a grown man," he protested.
"A grown man in high school," I shot back.
He grinned. "Yeah."
At this point the 2 guys and a younger girl came over to the car. He introduced me to them as his cousins and sister. After the pleasantries, they offered to help me find the address. I got out of the car and started poking around under the overgrowth on the curb then someone piped up behind me, "Hey, why don't you look inside to see if there is any mail with the address on it?"
"I can't get inside. There's a lockbox," I yelled back.
Then silence. And again the grin, "I can get you inside. We used to hang out in there, but it's boring now."
Before I could protest, my new friend had sauntered over and opened the unsecured garage door which led to an open door inside the house.
Well, you know I ducked on into the house to see whether they had ruined it and if I wanted it. They didn't and I did. As I stood at the bottom of the stairs watching one kid wave unopened mail over the bannister, another kid called out from the front of the house that he had found the broken mailbox under the front porch. It had enough numbers on it for me to ascertain the address and after the young girl asked her brother to bring home an old mirror that was lying in the garage of the house (if it had been a fixture I would have protested but sometimes you have to pick your battles), we started heading away from our trespass. After a brief tutorial on my hair (I have locks), I got in the car, promised to try to find families with daughters and left.
I'm learning to be flexible in this line of work. So there is more than one way to skin a cat on Gopher Pause Lane.
1 comments:
That could have been a potentially dangerous situation. Don't be so trusting around strangers even if they're teenagers!
Manonymous
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