We get another report within 48 hours of evicting our tenant, a once upstanding - now turned sour and rotten, from our rental property. This is the family house in which Sue was raised along with her 6 brothers and sisters. The report is not good. Nearly all of the windows, upstairs and in the daylight basement have been broken out. I decide I need to get out to Washington, and quickly. I book a flight from Dallas to Spokane so I can handle this growing disaster from Ground Zero.
I arrange to meet my parents in Spokane. They will drive their dually pickup truck from their home in Western Montana and meet me at the airport, and we three will travel together to begin repair and clean up work in the now vacant and vandalized rental home. We hope to repair holes knocked in the plaster walls, clean up all the broken glass, paint all walls and ceilings and replace the kitchen linoleum flooring.
On this October Saturday morning we stop for fuel as we turn off I-5, and it so happens that I notice a deputy sheriff parked at the gas station as well. I strike up a conversation about the damage done to our property just 3 miles up the road. He tells me, it is unlikely that the mischief would be repeated. I explain, No we have been targeted twice. The vandals have shown up with bolt cutters to cut the chain to gain access to then destroy my property. Quite targeted and intentional. I ask about the effectiveness of surveillance cameras? The deputy tells me that even if they had a license plate or good enough quality image to identify the criminals, it would be up to the DA to decide if they would use county funds to prosecute. I ask, so if I had the photo evidence, what are the chances we could get a conviction from the DA? I am told, "It's a crap shoot". I take that to mean, law enforcement does not give a rip about what happens to my property in the country. The deputy shrugs and ends the conversation. I think, "To Serve and Protect"? Ha!
We unlock the newly installed combination lock and extra heavy chain around the gate and drive up to begin working to get the place set up for some new and better renters in the future. Mom sweeps up broken glass. Dad sets to the very hard work of scraping up the old linoleum kitchen tiles. I get started of patching walls and painting. The hard work continues for 7-9 hours each day.
Daughter Inga and her boyfriend Sean drive the 5 hours north up from Portland, OR to lend a much appreciated hand for a day and a half. Brother-in-Law Bob comes by to bring a pizza for our lunch and promised to return on Wednesday with his 1 ton truck to haul off garbage.
Inga cleans up the basement and a pile of used hypodermic needles left on the floor. Drug use proof positive. The basement had been crudely rewired to set up a "grow operation", including faulty wiring and holes cut through the exterior siding into the basement to run tubes to support the weed growing efforts. Lots of damage everywhere I look.
Bob, Sean and I load up two loads of household garbage just thrown out the back door and piled up there. At the county dump, the two loads total an even 2,000 pounds - yes that is 1 ton of trash! We end up disturbing a family of about 4 large Norwegian rats live at the bootmo f the garbage. EEEEK!
My father, after several days of hard work, offers his free advice: "Lock the door, go into town and find a real estate agent and list the property for sale. Now." I listen, but I am not at all convinced. Where he sees only liability and hard work, I see assets of a forested 50 acres with a nice creek running through it and a sweet landing place for our dreams of a retirement home. Land north of Seattle is not getting any less expensive as the months go by either. A solid investment at the very least.
After 8 days on the job, we partially settle up with insurance adjuster for the damaged windows and fixtures. We lock the gate behind us as we drive back to Spokane, where I will catch a plane back to Dallas. I have a long list. It is a list of just about everything, since everything is damaged or broken. Me and the wife need to prioritize how we will tackle the numerous projects needed to return the house to a rental state and a revenue stream to cover taxes and mortgage before we end up there as blissful retirees.
Lots of hard work and expenses ahead of us I know, but at least we have turned the corner on this nightmare of a disaster. Right?
I arrange to meet my parents in Spokane. They will drive their dually pickup truck from their home in Western Montana and meet me at the airport, and we three will travel together to begin repair and clean up work in the now vacant and vandalized rental home. We hope to repair holes knocked in the plaster walls, clean up all the broken glass, paint all walls and ceilings and replace the kitchen linoleum flooring.
On this October Saturday morning we stop for fuel as we turn off I-5, and it so happens that I notice a deputy sheriff parked at the gas station as well. I strike up a conversation about the damage done to our property just 3 miles up the road. He tells me, it is unlikely that the mischief would be repeated. I explain, No we have been targeted twice. The vandals have shown up with bolt cutters to cut the chain to gain access to then destroy my property. Quite targeted and intentional. I ask about the effectiveness of surveillance cameras? The deputy tells me that even if they had a license plate or good enough quality image to identify the criminals, it would be up to the DA to decide if they would use county funds to prosecute. I ask, so if I had the photo evidence, what are the chances we could get a conviction from the DA? I am told, "It's a crap shoot". I take that to mean, law enforcement does not give a rip about what happens to my property in the country. The deputy shrugs and ends the conversation. I think, "To Serve and Protect"? Ha!
We unlock the newly installed combination lock and extra heavy chain around the gate and drive up to begin working to get the place set up for some new and better renters in the future. Mom sweeps up broken glass. Dad sets to the very hard work of scraping up the old linoleum kitchen tiles. I get started of patching walls and painting. The hard work continues for 7-9 hours each day.
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| Mom paints the kitchen |
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| Dad sands down the family room windows before repainting by Inga |
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| Dad & Sean do a lot of hard work to remove kitchen tiles |
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| Mom adds new paint to the Master Bedroom |
Daughter Inga and her boyfriend Sean drive the 5 hours north up from Portland, OR to lend a much appreciated hand for a day and a half. Brother-in-Law Bob comes by to bring a pizza for our lunch and promised to return on Wednesday with his 1 ton truck to haul off garbage.
Inga cleans up the basement and a pile of used hypodermic needles left on the floor. Drug use proof positive. The basement had been crudely rewired to set up a "grow operation", including faulty wiring and holes cut through the exterior siding into the basement to run tubes to support the weed growing efforts. Lots of damage everywhere I look.
Bob, Sean and I load up two loads of household garbage just thrown out the back door and piled up there. At the county dump, the two loads total an even 2,000 pounds - yes that is 1 ton of trash! We end up disturbing a family of about 4 large Norwegian rats live at the bootmo f the garbage. EEEEK!
 |
| Bob delivers pizza for lunch! |
After 8 days on the job, we partially settle up with insurance adjuster for the damaged windows and fixtures. We lock the gate behind us as we drive back to Spokane, where I will catch a plane back to Dallas. I have a long list. It is a list of just about everything, since everything is damaged or broken. Me and the wife need to prioritize how we will tackle the numerous projects needed to return the house to a rental state and a revenue stream to cover taxes and mortgage before we end up there as blissful retirees.
Lots of hard work and expenses ahead of us I know, but at least we have turned the corner on this nightmare of a disaster. Right?
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