“Why do we stay in farming?”
Answer: “Because our ancestors did, it provides us a fine standard of living, and we love to do it.”
“Why do we have such an uneven balance between huge capital and low annual payoffs?”
Answer: “Farming works because the nation must eat, and government subsidies keep essential crops in production.”
“But, we could make larger returns in real estate development, don’t you think?”
Answer: “Farming and horse racing are all the gambling I can handle!”
“Why aren’t our kids going into farming?”
Answer: “Other interests and a desire to live and work in the city.”
In this fashion Larry and the Heiress spent what could be termed a pleasant evening together in conversation, avoiding any head-on collisions. Larry was exhausted and excused himself to circulate within the room. He said his farewells to his comrades, who were well aware of the extended time he spent with the Heiress. Once outside, he was quickly refreshed by the cool air of the evening. No fog so far, he recognized at once. He dreaded the idea of making the drive home at this hour, taking his chances with whatever driving conditions might lie in his path. Instead, he opted to stay on Highway 65, drive south thirty minutes, and find a motel room in Bakersfield where he could get a good night’s sleep.
Martorano made the trip in good shape and found a motel with a cozy suite and a large bed. He slept fitfully at first, then found a peaceful rhythm that was followed by his best rest in years. He awoke refreshed and feeling relief from his emotional turmoil. He arose, showered, ate heartily at the closest restaurant, and drove home. Without any idea what lay ahead in his difficult life, he could ill afford to waste any of what remained of it.
10
Home in Three Rivers
June 1998
The years passed. Martorano’s children thrived, completed their educations with advanced degrees, and took their own positions of responsibility in society. They wedded and reared their offspring, enjoying many successes along the way. Larry could begin to see a certain pattern, if not a plan, that repeated for each generation. As he grew older, he also recognized his own position in the family; the farming company was changing as well. The younger generation was very capable of handling and resolving issues, better in many ways than he had ever been or so it seemed. Maybe as his children faced their issues they made a similar mix of good and bad decisions. Perhaps they simply spared him the details. Regardless, the observable results were certainly commendable, and he was very satisfied.
But these days, he was no longer as tolerant of his living conditions as he had been in the past. He did not want to face the distinct possibility of living in a big home with no one to share it. He felt a compulsion to find a residence in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountain range; he had always admired the mountain’s majesty when he viewed it from the Valley floor. He felt a magnetic attraction to the serenity of the mountains, but realized that living at higher elevation was not in his best interest because of the colder climate and thinner air. The next best solution would be living in the foothills in a comfortable home that enjoyed a fabulous view of the western slope of the Sierras. His search for the perfect site brought him to Three Rivers, California, where his search was soon rewarded.
The community was inhabited by less than two thousand people and was called the “Gateway to the Sequoias.” But it was much more than a doorway to the enchanted land, which at six thousand feet and above, was inhabited by some of the world’s most incredible, ancient gigantic trees and abundant wildlife. Nestled below, Three Rivers was home to many people who were drawn to nature’s majesty and the comfortable informality of a community inhabited by people who sincerely appreciated the serenity of the place. An order of Franciscans had developed some property there after the Second World War. Locals were self-reliant and independent. Larry had done his homework before making his final decision to relocate his home there by visiting the few restaurants and coffee shops, and he found the residents easy to meet and mostly forthcoming. They had opinions and shared them with him. He soon felt at home and sensed that he could make a new lifestyle for himself in this charming location. The clincher was that at one thousand feet and higher elevations, Three Rivers was mostly spared the ugly impact of foggy winters, as Valley fog infrequently trespassed from lower elevations into the township. Larry had become weary of the chilly temperatures and enveloping dreary grayish days during Valley winters at sea level, and he still could not forgive the perfidious fog goddess for her arbitrariness in tearing Maria out of his now celibate life, a mystery he would never comprehend no matter how many years he had to ponder it.
Larry found the local real estate agents knowledgeable and helpful. He reviewed the inventory of available homes but was not convinced or even smitten with just the right view, floor plan, or ambiance. He was determined to find a parcel of land to his liking and then build his dream home from scratch. After all, he had all the time to commit to the task and was intrigued by the idea of applying his skills to the effort.
Three Rivers, as the name of the community implied, was located at the convergence of three branches, or forks, of the Kaweah River that drained the watershed in this locale of the western Sierra Nevada mountains. Mount Whitney was physically located in Tulare County, but most of its runoff drained to the east side of the range. On the western slope where Three Rivers was located, the area was referred to as the Kaweah Gap, a name taken from the indigenous peoples who inhabited the region long before the appearance of white men in the midnineteenth century. Larry diligently explored the north, middle, and south forks of the waters of the Kaweah River coursing through Three Rivers and chose to focus his further exploration on the environs of the south fork. He could access higher elevations on the South Fork Road, and the views he encountered were very pleasing to him.
Larry soon learned from his real estate broker that many of the most enticing locations were unavailable or would prove to be if the conventional search approaches were used. As it turned out, some properties might become available for purchase but only through discrete inquiry outside normal channels. This was where he discovered that having the means to purchase a desired property was secondary to the willingness of a given owner to part with it. This point, in turn, led to a frank discussion of whether the potential seller considered the interested buyer worthy of becoming a neighbor in the area. There were no neighborhoods as such, and acreage was never referred to as lots but rather sections, quarter-sections, or simply places. Larry’s challenge was to find an area he liked and then attempt to open dialogue with an owner to explore the range of possibilities, if any actually existed, for purchase.
Larry’s manner was ingratiating, and once he determined that his favorite area was in the three- to four-thousand-foot elevation zone on the South Fork Road, he instructed the broker to pursue those interests. The broker soon learned of the title vestings in the target area and set about the task of making contact with as many owners as he possibly could. Usually his inquiries went unanswered, and he fully understood their reasons. They simply had no interest in adding to the census in their part of paradise. His efforts were finally rewarded when he made contact with the representative of an estate who indicated her willingness to meet with Larry. The broker arranged an informal meeting with the interested parties at a local café.
The subject property was now in probate. The decedent, the only son of a retired military officer who had served in the Polish Army during Germany’s invasion of Poland in August 1939, had been a graduate engineer for many years before retiring to the property his father had purchased decades earlier. The personal representative and sole heir of the estate was Mrs. Paderewski. She was enamored of her home but had no interest in managing the 160-acre property now that she was all alone. Her marriage had been loving and fulfilling yet went unblessed with children. With her husband gone, she felt no match for the rigors of caring for the large parc
el. Add to the mix the continuous flood of memories she experienced every time she gazed out any of the windows of the home, and most anyone would understand why she was interested in selling. But not to just anyone. She was looking for a buyer with a compatible vision for the property.
Whoever bought the place would have to qualify according to her personal standards. Despite warnings from her attorney to keep the probate proceedings moving along, one of the reasons she refused to list the property for sale by the estate was to retain control of the ultimate identity and qualifications of the buyer. When she questioned the estate attorney closely, she gained his acquiescence to the plan since no one besides her was at risk financially by her methods. She, after all, was the sole heir, and she could hardly complain of her own actions. She knew from her limited experience that an estate sale is tentative until the judge makes the final order of approval of the transaction, and there was risk of a public auction in the proceeding. One never knew who, including possible bidders and other vaguely interested persons, might attend the sale confirmation hearing. The thing she feared most was that this charming piece of God’s creation might fall into ownership of someone who would attempt to subdivide it for a huge profit. She was realistic enough to know that one day she would give up the right to ownership and was reconciled to offer it while she felt she still had some control over its disposition.
She knew she could not simply list the property with a realtor because she would, at the moment of signing, lose the very control she felt she needed. She had become perplexed about her options when she received the letter of inquiry from the broker. Relieved by this no-risk opportunity that dropped into her lap, she replied to the broker’s letter to indicate her interest in further discussion.
After a get-acquainted conversation, the three fell into a serious discussion about the property at the Bakery cafe. Larry provided a short autobiographical sketch covering his ancestors’ emigration from Italy and the subsequent development of their family agriculture business. He explained his interest in living his remaining years in the mountains surrounded by natural phenomenon. He had no hidden motives.
Mrs. Paderewski was delighted to learn of Martorano’s vision for the property. Larry explained that he would like to build his dream house and had several ideas of what specifically appealed to him. Mrs. Paderewski described the improvements already on the property, and Larry was very impressed. Finally, he asked if she would let him inspect the grounds at a time convenient to her. She paused and looked him straight in the eyes for several silent moments then offered: “What about now? Would that work for you, Mr. Martorano?”
Larry returned her gaze and replied: “Of course, and the three of us can ride in my truck, if you like.”
“I would be very grateful. The road can be a task at times,” and she smiled at what she hoped and intuitively felt might be the answer to her prayers, for herself as well as the property.
Larry drove his truck higher and higher into the mountains, and the views became more splendid at nearly every turn. He had passed the three-thousand-foot elevation marker when his hostess declared, “Turn left in about a quarter mile, please.”
Following the instruction, he located the intended turnoff marked by a sign imprinted with the message, “Welcome to Paradise!” The road narrowed as he steered the truck around a number of curves and stopped at a gate that was operated electronically by code. Mrs. Paderewski slipped out the front seat and entered the appropriate numbers on the keypad causing the heavy iron gate to swing aside. Larry pulled on through and stopped while his hostess tapped another message onto the pad causing the gate to close. After she re-entered his truck, Larry drove another quarter mile and then pulled into a driveway that led to the house.
“House” was an understatement for what he beheld. His instant impression caused him to forget any design and build ideas he might have cherished. The exterior of the residence blended remarkably into the surrounding terrain, and it was obvious that extreme care had been taken during design stages to assure that the improvements did not constitute an insult to nature’s handiwork. Someone had shown keen sensitivity to the need to enhance the natural beauty of the site’s surroundings.
Larry wanted adequate room to entertain his sizeable family, thus a house with four or five bedrooms would be needed for family reunions during holiday seasons. At other times, he could expect and would welcome any one of his children and family to spend a week or two at this beautiful spot, with or without reservations. He sought, more than anything else, an inviting feeling and a place where his friends and relatives would feel welcome and comfortable.
Once inside the home, he sensed that he had serendipitously discovered a real jewel. His subsequent inspection confirmed this impression.
Mrs. Paderewski, making her own survey of this prospective buyer, took pains to inconspicuously observe his reactions as he explored and discovered more and more of this unrivaled masterpiece of architectural concept, construction, and interior design.
Martorano mused that he thought he heard passages from Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyrie, while his hostess reached an advised decision that her potential buyer had gained membership into the elite category of qualified buyers. Now, the question for her became one of whether Larry would be truly interested in making an offer on the property.
To finish his inspection of the site, Larry requested a tour of the acreage, which was gently rolling and comparatively flat. There were no nearby rock outcroppings or precipitous drops that would constitute hazards for youngsters or the elderly. The timber consisted of pine, spruce, and cedar, but no sequoia gigantia due to the elevation being less than six thousand feet.
On first impression, Larry was more than ready, willing, and able to undertake the next step in negotiations that might lead to his purchase of the estate property. For her part, Mrs. Paderewski felt a warm confidence that dealing with him could possibly be very pleasurable.
Mrs. Paderewski secured the premises, and Larry turned the truck around in the ample driveway. He alighted from the cab and walked to the nearest promontory to confirm his impression that he had freshly discovered the earthly manifestation of his yearnings for a mountain retreat. Make no mistake about it, he just had done so.
He turned to his broker. “This is very interesting to me. I’d like to tie the property up while we study the details,” he nearly commanded.
“I have a suggestion, Mr. Martorano, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Yes, by all means,” Larry approved, but only half listening to the broker.
“I’m certain you are a very sophisticated buyer, but the trick in my estimation on this purchase is to work off the seller’s comfort zone. You see, Mrs. Paderewski is very unsure about many things at the moment, and if we’re not careful, she just might become frightened by something we say or do. If that were to happen, we might not hear from her again, ever. Do you get my meaning?” the broker asked.
Larry quickly absorbed the point here. He paused and repelled the instinct to rail at this uninvited advice, but he calmed down and voiced his approval.
“Okay, what’s our next move?” he asked. “Do I make an offer at this point?”
“I’d have to say that would be premature from my perspective, and not just because there is no signed listing agreement at the moment. Naturally, I’d like to protect my commission coming out of any deal. More importantly, I certainly get the impression Mrs. Paderewski is positive about your involvement, though it is obvious she is not desperate to sell. I think she is a strong and self-reliant woman, and she works at her own pace.
“Besides, you and I should have some major discussion before any offer is presented. Bear in mind, please, without a listing and an asking price, we’d end up bidding against ourselves. Candidly speaking, of course, she is fully entitled to hire a real estate agent to represent her interests. It is lawful for one broker to represent the property and the buyers and sellers to boot. Normally, I’m very cautious about
representing parties whose interests could come into conflict as the deal moves ahead. If you’re in agreement with this suggestion, on the trip back down the hill, I could open some general discussion about her intentions. After all, she’s the one who invited us to see the property,” he added, “and she might have something in mind. You just never know, but it’s worth raising the point.”
The threesome loaded into the truck and headed back to Three Rivers. Larry was busy guiding the truck down the steep mountain road, absorbed by that activity, nonetheless aware that the broker and Mrs. Paderewski were talking. The broker asked her if she would be listing the property for sale. She responded with a question.
“Do you think that is necessary?”
The broker candidly pointed out his need for protection of his commission, if any sale materialized. She answered by saying she would check with the estate attorney as she had the utmost trust and confidence in him. She and her husband had known him for many years. She and Mr. Paderewski had discussed this subject on numerous occasions and were satisfied with his advice. If he thought the estate needed a broker the lawyer could likely find one for her, and present company would be under consideration.
“Well,” the broker continued, “when negotiations begin in earnest, usually the seller announces the price she’d like to receive, as well as any conditions that are of concern. Each deal is just that much different from the next. The seller’s offer serves as the point of beginning normally. Mrs. Paderewski, have your ideas jelled concerning the price you’re asking?”
Thus the broker took the plunge, gambling that she was open to further conversation of the subject.
“No, I must say, since I was so completely focused on finding the right buyer. Thanks to the good impression your client made this afternoon, I’m ready to start the discussion, although I will talk to my attorney before we go any further. He might get involved, but he is willing to follow my lead on that score,” she volunteered. “I’m a bit of a fish out of water, it seems.”
(2012) The Court's Expert Page 14
