Key West Horror Story No 20

 This is a True Story

 

Have you ever had someone in your house accused of beheading another person? I did. In Key West.

I remember the day very I met him very well. Soon after we moved here in December 1993 my partner and I began to clean up the former Eaton Lodge Guest House which had been foreclosed upon, boarded up, and the gardens left unattended for two years. We got things under control and opened on Valentine's Day weekend in 1994. Our 13 room guest house was sold out within days and remained sold out until the first of May. Soon after we moved in neighbors stopped by to introduce themselves and to welcome us to Key West including a very handsome young man named Jerry Hamlin. He told us he was the manager of the Blue Parrot Guesthouse and offered us any help he could give. 

After we got the guest house running smoothly I joined Club Body Tech in the Duval Square complex. It was a great little gym. I saw Jerry Hamlin there from time to time. He always said hello. Always had a smile on his face. He was taller and younger than me. And very handsome! Big boy! Totally straight looking but gay.

A few years later I was at the gym and got caught totally off guard when someone told me Jerry had been arrested for the grisly murder of another gay man in Key West. They lived in the same apartment complex but not together. They apparently got together one night. Something happened. According a report in the Sun Sentinel in December 1999 "Jerry Lynn Hamlin, 32, allegedly confessed after his arrest Friday in St. Petersburg to killing Jesse Ronald Childs, 29. Childs' head was found Saturday wrapped in a sheet in a Key West park. His sexually mutilated body was found by workers last Monday in Homestead canal." As I recall both the head and the body were found he day after the murder in different locations. I was shaken to my core when I heard the story.

A woman lawyer I used to work with went tt law school with Ted Bundy.  She said she never sensed anything negative about him. The thing about people is you don't know what you don't know. 

 

Key West Real Estate Horror Story No 20

Two senior adult siblings lived in this Old Town home for many years. The place was a wretched mess. I showed the property several times to prospective buyers who were shocked both at the living condition but also the asking price. I saw the value in the location but warned the renovation would have been a total redo from foundation to roof.

As I recall neither brother or sister ever married. Oddly, stuffed animals and other toys were scattered all over the place.  I remember thinking one of the two was living in an alternate reality. 

The house was purchased, torn apart, and totally rebuilt. The renovated house sold soon after it was listed.

Key West Horror Story No 19

Today's blog is a continuation Key West real estate transactions where horrible things happened. Unlike some earlier blogs that dealt with death or mistreatment of animals, this story deals with taking advantage of an elderly gay man by a Key West real estate agent.

It was 2006 or 2007 that I first met an elderly gay man who I will call Forrest who came into the real estate office where I then worked. He was probably in his 70s and, while he appeared to be in fairly good physical shape, his rambling speech, faulty memory, and odd behavior suggested he was drifting toward dementia. And though he knew who he was and bragged about his apartment in New York City and his home on Fire Island, I don't think he knew what the heck was going on in his life.

Forrest would pop into the office all times of the day looking for Mike, another agent in my office. If Mike was busy or not in the office, Forrest would walk over to my desk to discuss whatever came into his befuddled head. This went on for several months. I began to dread seeing the old guy walk in the front door.

Mike was always very nice to the old guy and invited him into his office to talk and sometimes take him out to look at houses. I later learned that Forrest had been talking with a different Realtor who I will call Devin. At that time Devin was one of the top producing agents in Key West. He owned a big house and multiple investment properties. Devin sold Forrest an investment property that he owned on Lucky Street (made up name). Devin had purchased that property a couple of years earlier for a little over $500,000 and sold it to Forrest for well over $1,000,000.

A couple of years later I joined Preferred Properties where I still work. I was working with new customers who had moved away from Key West and wanted to return. They were searching house based on price and not location. One Saturday I drove them and their childhood friends to a house they selected in Bahama Village, an area with a large Black population where houses were markedly less expensive than Old Town. As we entered into Bahama Village their friend proclaimed "My momma wouldn't let me cross Duval Street when I was a kid". The buyers quickly decided that house and that location were not for them. The listing agent told me he was listing another house later that day on Lucky Street. It had a pool, off street parking, and a valuable transient rental license. That price was more than these buyers could afford. As soon as I finished showing those folks houses, I called the agent for more info.

The listing agent told me the address - it was the house Forrest purchased from Devin. The agent told me the executor for Forrest's estate contacted him to sell the Lucky Street house,  I asked if Forrest had died. No - he was not competent. He was living in a "home" in New York. The executor decided to cut the losses to the estate and sell the Lucky Street house for just $550,000.

I got as much info from the listing agent as I could and then called a customer I had been working with. He was a cash buyer who had been seeking a transiently licensed home in the $500,000 price range. I faxed him the offer (remember fax machines?). He signed and returned it. I hand delivered it to the listing agent's home late that afternoon. It was accepted. My buyer closed the full price transaction. The house made it into the MLS and went contingent on the same day. My buyer still owns the house which is making him oodles of money.

Key West Real Estate Horror Story No. 16

Today's blog is another in series wherein I tell a story of some horrible event involving a real estate transaction. In this instance I was not a participant, but instead am just the narrator.  Some in Congress might call it hearsay.

I was talking to a former real estate agent yesterday and mentioned dog smells which led to cat pee.  He then told me about the time in the early 1990s when he listed an old mansion on Eaton Street that had been the site of a quaint little Italian restaurant in the 1980s. He mentioned the name and I said I ate there twice on my first visit to Key West in 1984. I recalled it did not have a liquor license and that we had to bring our own wine. As I recall we ate on the front porch. I am not sure if they had inside dining.

The buyer had a special condition in the contract that buyer would inspect the inside of the property the day before closing and that there would be no "cat piss odor".  The agent said he found some local company that advertised it could eliminate cat urine odor.  The company did whatever it was that they did and they got rid of the odor. The inspection went off without a hitch and the property closed.

While the company was doing its cat piss odor removal magic, a worker found a dead cat behind the stove. There was no telling how long it had been there.

Key West Horror Story No. 15

This is a true story. A couple of years a customer of mine who I will call "Charlie" had to return to his home town to bury one of his siblings. Both of Charlie's parents had passed during the previous ten years or so. It was up to Charlie and his siblings to bury the first of their brood. There were seven. And then there were six.

Charlie returned to Key West late one night a few days later. The house he bought had a rental cottage at the rear. The tenant's truck was parked on the street. Charlie went to work the next day and life resumed. The following night there was rapping on the front door. Charlie opened the door to find a Key West policeman and another man standing on the front porch. The officer asked if Charlie had seen his tenant. "No." He explained he had been out of town. The officer said the tenant's friend had not seen him and feared something was wrong. Charlie, the officer, and the tenant's friend walked to the cottage at the rear. Charlie knocked on the door and then opened it. He turned on the light and found brain matter and blood on the walls and bed. The tenant's body was on the bed.

The police officer called the fire department. More police arrived. Charlie told me every cop and fireman in Key West must have been standing on the deck when all of a sudden the deck collapsed to the ground. Nobody was hurt.

Charlie said the tenant left a note apologizing for what he had done. He gave is pick-up truck to his friend - his only friend. He had no relatives. The city removed the body. I asked Charlie if there was a funeral. He did not know. Charlie cleaned up the cottage by himself. He said he could never ask someone else to do something so horrible.

A lot of single people move to Key West to find a new life here - to start over. Some buy puppies. Some buy cats. Some spend a lot of time in the bars. Some buy dope. Some pack up their bags and go back home. And some end up like this poor guy. Alone with nothing left to live for.

Key West Horror Story No. 13 - Uncle Charlie's Demise

This is a true story. The names have been changed so that I don't get sued. An older gay man who I will call Uncle Charlie lived in a rambling Key West house for several decades starting in in the 1970s. He enclosed porches and expanded the sides and rear of the house during a time when code enforcement was not making daily sweeps of the neighborhoods checking for phantom building additions.  I don't believe our Historic Architectural Review Commission (HARC) existed when he began to enlarge his house. Later, the place was obscured by trees and foliage to the extent that nobody seemed to notice or to care.

Uncle Charlie had so many rooms he knew just what to do. He invited younger gay men to live with him. I don't know if they paid rent as much as they provided services. Uncle Charlie also had a love affair with cats. He had perhaps twenty or more cats who moved in and out of the house through open doors and jalousie windows. 

A friend of mine lived near Uncle Charlie. My friend's house did not have central air conditioning.  He left the doors and windows open most of the day. One day my friend found one of Uncle Charlie's cats on his sofa. He kicked it out. (He didn't kick it. He escorted it.) That same cat or it's cousin returned. And then another. And another.

My friend got upset and called animal control. They said there was nothing they could do but offered to give my friend animal traps. He started making daily trips to the animal shelter to deliver cats to the county. This went on for a few weeks until Uncle Charlie suddenly died. I don't think Uncle Charlie died over the disappearance of his cats, and I certainly don't think my friend killed him. 

Very soon after Uncle Charlie's demise, someone made all the wayward boys leave the house and emptied if of cats as well.

That's the end of the story. Somebody bought the house. It got ripped apart, renovated, and sold.

I was reminded about this story during an inspection earlier today. The recently deceased former owner had a love affair with cats. The place reeked of cat pee. 

If you are a fan of cats you may not agree with my calling this Key West tale a "horror story". But if, like my friend who lived near Uncle Charlie, I'll bet you would have breathed a sigh of relief when the wayward boys and the wayward cats left the neighborhood. And if you should happen to live near some living "cat lady" or man, I'll be you can't wait for fate to take its course.

Key West Horror Story No 12

Unlike my other real estate horror stories that related to houses in Key West, this true story occurred one day several years ago while my buyer and I had a quick bite to eat at a Key West eatery that is no longer in business - Thank God!  The photo above was borrowed from the internet and is not the place about which I am going to write.

The building where we "dined" is now owned by a totally different party. The current occupant is a lessee and not in any way related to my story. But to avoid getting sued, I posted a photo of a totally different joint in some place that is not Key West.

We went inside the eatery and stood in line to order quick fix sandwiches and a Coke which we took to our table. I had eaten at this place several times before and thought the sandwiches were not only really tasty but also a good value. And we could get in and out within about 15 to 20 minutes.

The guy behind the counter was an older guy - probably in his fifties. He was rather large both in height and belly. He looked like Mel Sharples.  Older readers may remember Mel from the TV show Alice.  But this guy was no lovable Mel Sharples.

We sat down and began to eat our sandwiches. We were situated ten feet or so from where we ordered our meals. The Mel look-a-like left his post as the order taker and sandwich maker for a couple of minutes. He picked up the trash can behind the counter and lugged it outside whereupon he threw the contents into a big green dumpster.  He stopped for a moment to savor the cigar he had in his mouth. As I recall there was another person working there that day. I remember wondering why that person didn't take the trash outside.

Then the Mel guy came back inside and placed a new black plastic trash bag in the trash can. He then went back to the counter to take orders and prepare sandwiches for newly arriving customers. The cigar was still in his mouth and he did not wash his hands. I was disgusted. I never went back there.

I have never gotten over this incident. I know bad things happen in restaurants. I rarely send anything back to the kitchen in fear of what some other Mel might do to the meal. I didn't complain at the time. Maybe this incident didn't really happen. Maybe. 

Key West Horror Story No. 11

 The ten days after Hurricane Irma were about the most difficult days of my life. I had a little damage to the roof of my house  I lost parts of my fence after not-all-that-tall trees fell upon it. And I was without power and potable water for more than a week. I stayed with friends and we made the best of it. I stayed in Key West for the storm and was lucky enough to learn my house was okay in spite of the minor damage.

During the next two days I went by many of the houses I had sold to inspect for damage. There were trees down in many places including in front of one particular buyer's property. A couple of guys were already on the spot cutting tree limbs. I spoke to one of the men to see if he could help cut and remove the trees that damaged my fence. He said yes. We talked some more when he told me he is also a licensed electrician. Since we did not have electricity, he was doing tree trimming and removal. We set a time for him to come to my house.

Two days passed before he showed up. He explained that generator at one of the local mortuaries had gone kaput. The owner knew the tree cutter was also an electrician and told him that the bodies were starting to thaw. The tree cutter was able to bring the generator back to life so to speak.

The tree cutter came to my house removed for trees from my property in about an hour's time The price was $500. That was okay with me. I would have ended up in the mortuary if I had tried to remove those trees by myself.

Key West Horror Story No. 8

Just like reading the opening credits of each new episode of Fargo this is a true story. Everything told here really happened. This is the simple tale of the house I bought 22 years ago and the events that led to a trip to the psychiatric hospital and later to death at my Key West house.

There were three primary reasons I bought my house:  it was located in the Casa Marina Area of Key West which was close enough that I could ride my bike to work or to the beach. It had one of the largest private pools on the island. And it had a small (and legal) apartment which I could rent to help pay for taxes, insurance, and have a little left over for lunch money.

The house was located on a very large corner lot about four blocks from the ocean. The area is lush with huge palms and tropical foliage everywhere. Most of the streets do not have sidewalks and gutters to the feel is more rural the urban. The front door of the apartment was set back thirty feet or more from the front gate and hidden from view by a dense tropical garden and a small pond inhabited by fish and frogs. I regularly removed as many tadpoles as possible to keep the frog population in check, but the tadpoles ate the mosquito larva so it all worked out okay.

One day I decided to clean and repaint the pond and to make it into a KOI pond. I had a KOI pond years earlier when I lived in Denver. (I had a greenhouse of sorts. The fish lived and thrived there. My dog loved to watch stare at them and imagined getting to catch and eat one someday.)

I used a bucket to remove the stinky brown water and bailed it into the foliage. Then I got out my pressure washer and began to power wash away the years of scum on the sides of the cement pond when all of a sudden I screamed so loudly that the tenant bolted from the apartment to find what had happened. I was grasping the fingers of my left hand to stop the blood. I had been holding the nozzle end with my left hand directing water and used by right hand to regulate the water pressure. The water accidentally cut deeply into finger. The tenant ran back inside her place, grabbed a paper towel, and wrapped it around my finger. She offered to call an ambulance. I thanked her and said I would drive myself to the hospital.

I ran to my part of the house, grabbed my keys and wallet, and got into my car and raced down Flagler Avenue. I turned left on Kennedy Drive and drove a block or so and then ran inside Depoo Hospital. It was like an episode of THE TWILIGHT ZONE: nobody was there - in the hospital. Not a sole.  I remember walking through the entry way looking for someone, anyone. Then some man emerged. As I recall he was wearing hospital green. Then someone else came out - maybe a nurse. I remember a woman. They saw the dishtowel around my hand. I said something and one of them responded NO. NO. NO. And then they talked more in Spanish. Oh this truly was THE TWILIGHT ZONE.  Finally someone else came out and told me that I had gone to the wrong place. Depoo is not a medical hospital. I needed to go the hospital by the golf course - of course, the one by the golf course. Where was the golf course? This was before the Key West Golf Club Community was built so I had no idea where to go. Later I learned that Depoo Hospital was our local psychiatric hospital.

When I got to the real medical hospital the intake lady asked for my identification, insurance card, and so forth. She told me to have a seat and wait. I did. I stuck my arm up into the air to prevent what blood I had left in me from dripping onto the floor. It seemed like I waited twenty minutes or longer to get inside the trauma area. Finally a doctor came in. He recognized me from the gym.  He asked what happened, sewed me up, and sent me back home.

Soon after my wound healed I went back over and finished cleaning the pond. I patched a couple of holes to plug a leak. I then painted the surface.  I bought a new pump and some chemical to treat the water so that the new fish would not die from the chlorine. Everything was ready for the fish.

I bought two or three large KOI and a lot of feeder fish plus several water plants. I acclimated the water and later added all the fish and water plants. The pond looked really cute. The tentant came out and thanked me.

Back then I was working at Prudential Knight Realty on Duval Street. I routinely road my bike to the office. I road my bike to work the day after I stocked the KOI pond. As I neared me house that afternoon I noticed an egret strutting around out in the middle of the street. We don't have much traffic in my area. I remember thinking "The Fish". I raced around to the apartment entrance, opened the gate, and headed toward the pond.  The tenant came out and said something like "Gary I came out as soon as I saw it". (Meaning the egret.) "They are all gone." The KOI were gone. Eaten alive. Dead. I didn't know or even think about a bird eating the fish. My fish in Denver had never been exposed to anything that could eat them except my dog. And she knew better.  Those fish had lived their lives just fine until I got involved. It was my fault. I decided then - nevermore. I tore out the pond and planted some more foliage. You can't kill anything green in Key West.

Key West Horror Story No. 6

In the year 2010 I set up a showing of an older Key West home which the listing agent described as "Old Town Gem, over 100 years old, the property is certainly worthy of a total restoration. Perhaps with removal of non-historic additions, one can have a nice patio/garden with pool. Off-street parking also possible. Excellent location." The mls primary photo is above and two other photos appear immediately below. You can tell from the outset that the place needed work. Of that, my buyer was fully aware.

My buyer wanted to see this place because it met his requirements as to architectural style and appeal, location, and price. The listing agent met us on the sidewalk in front of the house. He told us the older woman sitting in the car parked in front of the house with the large dog was the owner. He then told us the owner's grand daughter would show us the interior.  That was odd from the start. Agents are supposed to show their listings - not the principals. He whispered that he would wait outside - as if the small size of the house was the reason he would not go inside. It was not until after we saw the house that we understood why he chose to stay outside.

Betty Furness who demonstrated how to use the new appliances of the 1950s

When we crossed the threshold we saw only a couple of pieces of  furniture which were obscured by piles of newspapers and magazines stacked nearly waist high combined with odd things encased in old grocery store plastic bags. We had to move across the floor wedging our way through piles of papers or things saved in grocery bars. The stench was over-whelming. We moved toward the rear to checkout the kitchen and back yard. It became clear that this house needed more than a minor fix-up. The back was dark and nasty. I can't recall anymore than the rear was surrounded by dank old wood, We turned around and saw the grand daughter standing next to the to the inside doorway leading to the second floor. The young lady pivoted on the spot and opened the door as if doing her best impression of Betty Furness with arm outstretched inviting us to go up the stairs to view the second floor.  My buyer lead the way but stopped after a step or two. He said something like "Gary, the smell is horrible!"  I suggested that he breathe through his mouth so we could at least see what was upstairs. He was a big man but briskly ascended the stairs. There was a semblance of a second kitchen of sorts with a table where some pared potatoes were sitting on a small table. The smell was putrefying. We scanned the room, turned our heels, and made a quick exit out of the house thanking the young lady for allowing us to see her home.

The listing agent sold the house to someone who did a remarkable transformation. The old house was lifted up to the sky after which a new pier foundation was built. The house was lowered and rebuilt in place. Most of the framing was replaced. The house was expanded to the rear where a small pool was built. There is even a small second floor rear deck off the master bedroom. To my surprise the new owner was able to create an off street parking space in front as well. The new owner paid $216,500 for the place. I would think the house would sell for around $1.2 million in today's market.

Sometimes houses of horror can have happy endings. This is one of those times. The listing agent was correct in his prognostications about the potential for this old house.  If you are looking for a place in Key West and are not working with another agent, please consider contacting me, Gary Thomas, 305-766-2642, or send me an email at kw1101v@aol.com.  I am a buyers agent and a full time Realtor at Preferred Properties Key West. Let me help you find your place in Paradise.

Key West Horror Story No. 5

A few years ago I represented a buyer who found me via my blog. He lived up north in New York City and was looking to buy a cute Key West cottage where he planned to move. He came to town on several visits to find that perfect place. This was during that terrible time soon after the Great Recession.  Many buyers lost faith in our economy and believed we would never be as good as we once were. I know he expected prices would be lower than they were. He quickly learned he couldn't afford as much house as he thought.

This particular buyer was self-employed. He lived from project to project. He would get paid a lot of money upon the completion of each project. But there was no steady income for the times in between. I hooked him up with a local lender who figured out a way to get him approved for a mortgage. We started looking in areas other than Old Town where prices were lower. We found such a place in Mid Town.

The particular house was an estate sale. The previous owner had passed away. The man was single and died alone except for his dog. His body wasn't discovered for quite some time. The body of his large dog was found as well. The dog apparently survived for a while after the owner passed. You can figure out what happened.

The deceased had two male siblings who lived in the northeast. They engaged a local real estate agent who was a stay-at-home-mom and part-time agent. She told me the place was a mess when she first saw it and offered to fix it up for the far-away brothers. She hired local contractors to do some repairs, install new bathrooms including plumbing and tile installation, painting, and so on. She purchased new kitchen cabinets, appliances, light fixtures, fans, etc. The place looked as next to new as a fifty year old house could look. She was a real estate agent mind you, not a licensed contractor. 

The finished house was priced the equivalent of a fixer house in Old Town except it was already fixed. My buyer was willing to forgo the cuteness in favor of the up to date renovation at an affordable price.  He made an offer. We negotiated the price a bit and put the place under contract.

I was a bit concerned that the agent had done a lot of work which may or may not have been permitted. I included a couple of safe guards in the contract which later proved useful when the renovations she  authorized did not pass final building inspection. The brothers had to come out of pocket to bring the sub-standard work up to meet building code. 

I totally sympathized with the situation those brothers went through. Losing a family member is never easy. Losing a family member in such a harsh way is awful. But then having to pay for something twice compounds the loss even more.