A Lie Will Trip You Up Everytime

Dear Boo and Bubble,

A year out of college, I entered the field of real estate sales.  It’s not unusual for a woman to sell houses today, but back then……hate to think of how many years ago…it was almost unheard of.  My forward-thinking, open-minded, welcoming mentor was a man named C. Dan Joyner, who passed away last year.  I will always be indebted to Dan for starting me on a career path that lasted intermittently over 30 years.

I openly admit this was back in the dark ages – no computers, no internet, no Fax’s, no wire transfers, no secondary market, no RESPA.  Local Savings and Loans generated the mortgages and collected payments.  Women had to renounce their dower rights.  A three-day right of rescission had to pass before money could be dispersed. 

Even though some of the rules were arcane and the process seemed tedious, in many ways I think it actually worked better.  Loan applications reliably landed on the desk of someone who knew the community and its people.  A local loan committee made decisions on the viability of a borrower, not some anonymous wizard behind a green curtain in a far off land called Oz who insisted on sanitized credit ratings and impeccable appraisals. 

As luck would have it, great granddaddy Schaefer incorporated real estate closings in his panoply of legal services and I used him for all of my transaction.  I never achieved the Million Dollar Club, but my sales production met the financial needs of a twenty-something single woman and it kept granddaddy busy on my behalf. 

On an occasion, I was working with a young Political Science professor at Furman, Don Aeisi, and his wife Margaret.  They were expecting their first child and wanted a larger home to accommodate a growing family.  When we started our house search, Margaret was around seven months pregnant.  After a couple of futile weeks in the existing home market, which was by far their obvious preference, I convinced them to look at new construction. 

In the late 1950’s, Furman moved from downtown Greenville to a more modern, expanded campus off of Highway 25 towards Travelers Rest.  The area became a magnet for growth out from Greenville.  Builders profited from the numerous subdivisions developed within a few miles of the university grounds and we had plenty of selection from which to choose.  Don and Margaret opted for a three bedroom, tri-level about six weeks from completion.  We wrote the contract and the builder accepted - setting in motion a chain of events that ended in one of the funniest scenes I’ve ever witnessed.

As was my job, I monitored the progress of the Aeisi loan and periodically checked on the finishing touches to the house.  Don resumed his teaching schedule and Margaret, growing all the while, began preparing for moving and having a baby back to back.  There were minor glitches that delayed things a bit, but nothing major.  It looked like we would make it just under the wire.

Granddaddy Schaefer received the loan package, set the closing and prepared all the paperwork to reflect the agreed upon date.  The night before the settlement, Don called me to say that Margaret had gone into labor and they were on the way to the hospital.  After registering my excitement and good wishes and asking to be kept informed, I immediately called Granddaddy.

When someone responds “uh oh,” it’s never good.  Such was Granddaddy’s instant reaction. 

“Looks like we have a problem,” he said.

“Why?”

“Well, the papers are already dated according to the bank’s instructions.  If Margaret can’t sign her part and renounce her dower rights tomorrow, then we’ll have to change everything which holds up the disbursement of the funds due to the 3-day right of rescission and the builder won’t get his money and they won’t be able to move in when they had planned.”

He rattled this off just like a lawyer.

What became obvious to us both was that Margaret would be in no position to come to the closing.  Having a baby in those days meant an extended stay in the hospital.  On top of that, restrictions on who could come into the maternity ward were severe.  When the babies were out of the nursery, not even the fathers could be present.  This presented a real dilemma.

“Let me think about this,” Granddaddy pondered.  “I’ll call you in the morning when we know that the baby is here safe and sound.”

The baby came in the middle of the night and all was well with that.  Granddaddy phoned me and instructed me to come to his office right after lunch.  He had a plan on how to get the papers signed so that the loan could close as planned.

I met him at the office. 

“Come with me,” he said, holding a folder full of mortgage and related documents under his arm. 

We got in his car and headed to the hospital.

“We have two problems,” he continued. “First the papers have to be signed today and the only way to accomplish that is to take them to Margaret.  Which presents the second problem…..they won’t let me on the floor because I am not a member of her immediate family.”

“But, surely in a case like this…..” I suggested.  “Couldn’t you just explain the situation.”

“No.  Trust me, the hospital is very strict on these matters.”

“So, what is your plan?” I asked with a little skepticism.

“Well, I’m going to pretend to be Margaret’s father.”

“What?  Are you kidding me?  That’s insane.”

Granddaddy turned his penetrating blue eyes to me.  He was dead serious.

“I’ve thought about this through and it’s our best option.  All I want you to do is go find a seat in the lobby and wait.  I’ll go up to the reception desk by myself.”

“Okay.  If you say so.”

We arrived at the hospital. I split off from Granddaddy as we came into the lobby and found a seat across from the receptionist.  Here is what I witnessed.

Granddaddy approached the desk.  The lady sitting there looked up, smiled, and asked how she might help him.  Granddaddy began his shenanigan.  His hands waved in the air to press the importance of what he was saying.  This went on for a minute or two when all of a sudden Granddaddy’s shoulders slumped and he put his head into his hand.  A solid blush of embarrassment crept up the back of his neck.  The two of them burst out laughing.  Obviously, his plot had failed.

Here’s what actually happened.

“Hello, can I help you?”

“Yes.  My daughter, Margaret Aeisi, just gave birth to my very first grandchild and I’ve driven all night to get here to seem them both.”

“Oh, Really.  Well that’s very nice.  Congratulations.”

“Yes, so if you could tell me her room number, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Certainly.  But I need to ask you one question before I do.  What was Margaret’s maiden name…..before she became Aiesi?”

Granddaddy stared back at the lady.  His shoulders slumped as he realized he had no idea what Margaret’s maiden name was – which, of course, would have been his name as well.  He put his head into his hand.

“Schaefer Kendrick – WHO are you trying to fool?!?”

The lady had known who he was from the get-go.  When Granddaddy started his tall tail, she just let him run with it to see where he went.  He ended up in the middle of his own woven web with a very red face.  The story ended well, though.  Without any problem, Granddaddy made it to the maternity ward and Margaret signed the papers. 

But, there’s a moral here, boys.  No matter what how noble the reason, a lie will trip you up every time!