…Each day for the next 30 days, I will write about my experiences as an Estate Sales Professional…
The Estate Sales Business Is Incredible: Each day I go behind the scenes, into homes, to see how people lived, whether hoarder or collector; each one different…and I can’t say that I like everything that I see, but what I can say is that, for the most part, I respect that people are people, and that each of my clients deserves to be treated with respect and dignity.
It’s Already 11:00am: I can’t even tell you all that I have done already today! Now I am on my way to San Francisco to see a house in the Eureka Valley…hoping to see a house with enough in it to properly conduct an Estate Sale.
I am met there by a Realtor, who will go un-named. The house is in your basic state of neglect, the kind that comes from 20 or so years of someone getting too old to care for them selves. By this I mean, the place is in shambles. I meet the Realtor as he is coming down the stairs with his client, a pretty but kind of tough looking woman who doesn’t say a word to me. She gets into a fancy SUV and takes off.
Inside, the house is almost empty, save for an antique or two that was way too big for an heir to cart away…that’s the look and feel of the place – that someone, probably more than one person, perhaps a hoard of people, have descended on the house and carried off everything of value that was within sight.
I don’t really mind this: It’s perfectly OK for people who have inherited personal property to take it and use or sell it, I don’t have a problem with this…I usually can’t help people who have done this, but it’s OK with me if this is what they have chosen to do.
But This Place Feels Different: It feels like, heirs were waiting for someone to pass so that they could descend. It feels like stuff and the money, and the real estate were all that any one really wanted. It feels like, that who ever lived in this house was not taken care of by those who stood to gain from their passing. And this, although a very real phenomenon displeases me a great deal.
The One Thing I Can’t Stand is Lack of Respect: Of course I don’t really know the history here folks, I am making it up based upon what I am seeing, and maybe I am hitting the nail on the head, and maybe my thoughts are far afield from what actually happened here.
What I am not making up is: The Literally Petrified Dog In The Sub-Basement. Sometime in the past, a dog, maybe a neighbors, found their way into the sub-basement of this house, and this poor dog, perhaps they were sick or couldn’t find their way back, died.
And there the dog stayed. For years…and years – so many years in fact, that the poor beast dried out and became in a way petrified. Folks, I used to live in the country, and this kind of thing happens there…a critter gets under your house, maybe they can’t get out or whatever, and they pass. You’ll know that this has happened because, your house will begin to smell.
The Realtor and The Home Inspector Thought This Was Very Funny: I did not, and here’s why. That smell permeates everything, up through the floor boards, into the in-law unit, rising, and rising even into the owners unit. And I think the person must have been able to smell it, must have lived with it, probably wished they could figure it out, do something, or wish that there was someone they could call – a relative or neighbor…seems by the evidence of this poor dried up dog, that there was no one to call.
Maybe they were waiting for this person to die: This sickens me, the thought of old people with no one to turn too…
It’s Now 12:15pm: I am in my car wondering about it all, wishing it was different, and knowing that there is little I can do except care…and care I shall, for all the rest of my days…
All The Best To You…