Drugs
and Suicide
Now
that I’ve got that off my chest I can go on to more suicides. These are not fun
stories to remember or to tell. But they should be told so that readers will
know the things that we encounter in the normal course of business. More often
than not we are grief counselors, social workers, or mediators in these incidents.
Experience has shown that agents just looking for a fast easy commission don’t
last long in the business, but that’s a whole other set of stories.
For
this one we have to go back to St. Genevieve where all the Legals and Gauthiers
live. There was an almost complete tri-level house that Ulysses Legal had
designed and built. It was an amazing design featuring (among other things) a
mezzanine walkway across the whole second floor of the building. At first
blush, it was the ideal building of a dream house and household. I was soon to
discover that it was more complicated than that. My first visit was cordial
enough as I went through the house in an effort to evaluate its market value.
But I had a sense of tension between husband and wife, nothing I could put my finger
on, but still it was there. I said I would return after I’d had a chance to
determine a reasonable selling price.
On
my return there was tension in the air even as I pulled up in the driveway. It
only increased when I entered the house. There had apparently been a fight
about selling or not selling the place. Lucille apparently didn’t want to sell
at all, and he, Ulysses just wanted to be rid of it. It wasn’t very long before
he had signed the agreement and she tearfully co signed.
That
wasn’t the end of it. Apparently, Ulysses had gone into a depression and had
become aggressive toward his wife that I later learned was what happened when
he was coming down from a drug binge. I had driven out two days later to put up
my “for sale” sign and went in to the house to let them know what I had done.
The air was electric. Lucille had a few marks on her arms as well as a black
eye. She was in an agitated state and said she was going to stay with her
sister in Winnipeg for a few days.
“How
are you going to get there?” I wanted to know, realizing the tension in the
room.
“Oh,
I’ll take the bus tomorrow,” she answered.
“No,
get your things together. You’re coming into town with me,” I more or less
commanded. I had a feeling that if she didn’t get out of there right away,
something dangerous would happen to her. She complied and we left.
On
the way Lucille broke down crying – no, sobbing about her situation. Drugs, she
said. It was the drugs Ulysses couldn’t kick. Every time he tried he would,
after a few days get depressed, and ultimately become aggressive. By the time
we got to Lucille’s sister’s place, she had pretty well cried herself out. She
thanked me for my understanding and for the ride (which probably saved her
life) and left my car. I watched her go to the door and enter the house.
Pretty
well rattled by the experience, I stewed over it for days. There were a number
of showings on the property and I had a lockbox there so I wouldn’t have to
attend each one. When an offer came in from an agent in Steinbach I did manage
to close it. I can’t remember if Lucille was back home at the time or not, but
suffice it to say that it was a done deal.
Now
I could put it behind me and move on to something else. Ha ha, little did I
know. A week or so after the deal was completed somebody found Ulysses hanging
from the railing of the mezzanine floor overlooking the main entry. It was
determined to be a suicide. After checking with the lawyer to confirm that the
deal would stand, I promptly turned to happier thoughts when I got a call from
the buyer, a machinist at Griffin Steel. He’d heard of the suicide and wanted
to know what kind of a discount he could get in the price if he would proceed
with the purchase.
Of
course I knew that withdrawing from the sale would cost him his deposit (plus
other penalties and punitive damages). It’s at times like these that my
sarcastic humor automatically kicks in. I told him that the lawyers and I were
trying to determine the surcharge there would be for the privilege of buying a
suicide home and we would be in touch with his lawyers on determining that. He
said ‘Oh’ and hung up the phone.
I
don’t know if my response saved any further headaches or not but the deal
finalized without any further hitches and I could go on to other things.
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