by James Ross
“Yeah, I’ve got all that stuff.”
“Then you better call Curt,” Marcia advised, knowing full well that J Dub’s older brother would help. “Let him check the guy out. He can make some phone calls and do some checks on him. I’m not convinced about this guy from what you’ve told me.” She stared at her husband in disbelief, but could see the hope in his eyes. Marcia backpedaled a little and relented, “We’ll want to make sure that we’re protected if that is what you want to do.”
“Anything that Curt can dig up on him would be great,” J Dub said to his doubting wife.
Marcia butted in. “I told you. This guy sounds like a whacko!! We’ll need more than a few checks that Curt can make.” She was extremely skeptical as she placed a slice of tomato in her mouth. She read her husband’s face as she chewed her food. “Are you crazy? If you go into business with the guy, then we’ll have to think about sending you to some nut house.”
J Dub took a bite from his burger. “Maybe this is the opportunity that we’ve been waiting for,” he reasoned as a huge glob of ketchup splattered on his plate.
“Are you going to give up your dream?” Marcia asked in reference to J Dub’s dream of playing on the PGA tour.
“You know, Hon, we’ve got some applications out there.” J Dub’s rational side was hard at work. “The guy must have talked to some of the local guys in the St. Louis area and went about finding me. I’m torn . . . but we’re going to have one more mouth to feed around here pretty soon and have you looked at where we’re living? This isn’t exactly how I pictured things as we bring a baby into our lives.” J Dub’s jaw began twitching as the frustration consumed him. “It’s just happening so quickly. I mean, why me, of all people?” He swallowed a spoonful of pork and beans and chased it with a generous helping of potato salad. “Sometimes life works like that. If nothing else, I’ll be doing what I love to do.”
“I don’t know. We’ve had too many changes around here lately. I don’t know if I can go through all this in my condition. I don’t want to move right now,” Marcia cried as if the trailer park was the real solution to their housing needs.
“If it’s not us, it will be somebody else,” J Dub replied. “Besides, I want to get the heck out of this hole that we’re in.”
“It sounds too good to be true,” Marcia stated as she chastised herself silently for sounding so vulnerable. She hated feeling this way; she liked to be in the driver’s seat.
J Dub wanted to make the move. His efforts were geared toward swaying his life-partner to agree. “It won’t be much different than the range. He wants me to watch the register.”
“That means your weekends will be gone,” Marcia whined.
J Dub nodded. “But that would have been the case if I made the tour.”
“There’s a big difference between a pro running a golf shop and a professional on tour and you know it,” Marcia complained.
J Dub knew where Marcia was headed with that comment. “You mean money-wise?”
Marcia nodded her head. Not that she was money-hungry, but having some money would eliminate a lot of their worries. It would provide some stability and peace of mind for both of them.
“At least we won’t have to travel from stop to stop. We can stay put for a while,” J Dub offered.
“But your dream was my dream,” Marcia pleaded.
“We’ll just have to put it on hold for a little while,” J Dub stated. He was clearly faced with a life-changing decision. After he took a final swig of beer he crushed the can. “You know, from a business standpoint and a real estate perspective, it might be a decent move. Let’s make sure that there is a buy/sell agreement and a partnership arrangement that is spelled out. I want to look at the contract and all the other documents beforehand.”
“I don’t know if this is the right time to walk eighteen holes in a thunderstorm with a stranger,” Marcia added.
“Let’s put the tour on hold,” J Dub rationalized. “There is supposed to be a driving range at the course. I can still practice there,” J Dub said. He was more than willing to move down a different road in life. His own eagerness even surprised him. Things weren’t adding up, but he felt like he needed to strike while the iron was hot.
“I want more details. I’m leery about jumping into this too quickly. I want to see the contract, any agreements, what he wants out of you, as well as what your hours are going to be,” Marcia demanded.
“We’ll get some help with that. Between your dad and Curt, we’ll get the right advice. This could be the deal of a lifetime,” J Dub suggested. He looked deeply into the eyes of his wife. “Marcia, you always said that when one door closes another one opens up.” He paused to reflect on what he had just said. “Maybe this is it.”
Marcia was less than thrilled. “I wish you’d have taken the nine-iron.”
Chapter Thirteen
First week of February, 1984 . . .
George, Walter, and Lew sat in the conference room of FARMBELT ABSTRACT & TITLE COMPANY. Doughnuts and a pot of coffee were readily available to extend hospitality toward the guests. For the health-conscious customers low fat cookies and hot chocolate were on hand also. Walter had placed himself in a very compromising situation and was more than a little fidgety on this specific morning.
“Can we get this thing closed today?” Lew asked as he jammed half of a doughnut into his mouth.
George slid a contract in Lew’s direction. “Here’s the contract for the sale of the golf course from the Morton Estate to Lew Zerrmann. The signature on the power of attorney form is a perfect match,” George explained.
Walter chimed in with a slick grin. “It comes with a very favorable price. You can put my tip in a briefcase and leave it on the back porch.” He wanted to emphasize that his conciliatory negotiation had come with a hefty cost.
Lew nodded his head in agreement. He forced a sly, devilish grin and then raised a question. “How’s it going to come down?”
Walter replied, “What we’ve done is have the estate enter into an owner-financing agreement with you, Lew.” Walter shoved the loan papers toward Lew.
George added, “We’ll wait until you’ve been up and operating for a year and can qualify for a bank loan. Then we’ll take the funds from the bank and disburse them.”
“I’ll show that the property assets are going away on the books and it will become a note receivable,” Walter made clear.
George slid another document toward Lew. “Here’s the legal description and survey of the property.”
“Good. That gives us time to incorporate the business,” Lew said as he examined the documents, knowing that the incorporation would protect him personally from his business.
“It can’t get any easier than that,” Walter stated. “Is everybody happy?”
George and Lew shook their heads with approval. Both flashed a sinister smirk at each other.
“They got copies of everything two days ago, right?” Lew asked.
George and Walter both nodded.
“They should be here any minute. I hope that everything was to their satisfaction. I need somebody that knows what they’re doing to run the place,” Lew said.
Meanwhile at Curt Schroeder’s office . . .
Curt did the best he could to check out all there was to know about Lew Zerrmann. He made a few phones calls and nothing seemed to indicate that the guy was not on the up-and-up. The one thing that seemed like a positive at the time was that Lew had a fondness for real estate and his most recent acquisition was thirty miles from Curt’s office.
Curt was older than J Dub by a couple of years. He wasn’t anything special, but J Dub worshiped his older brother. Curt would blaze the trail and J Dub would follow. Curt had been a fair athlete in his own right while the two boys had been growing up. Since their dad had been a basketball and golf coach, athletics and the lessons that could be derived from sports had been instilled in them at an early age. Curt concentrated on baseball and football, but didn’t qu
ite have the size, commitment, or talent to take it to the next level. After Curt graduated from high school he watched as his little brother led the golf team to three straight State championships.
When J Dub chased his dream of playing on the PGA tour, Curt was busy getting his real estate license. He later got involved in banking and commercial lending. No matter where their path in life was headed, their dad made sure they applied the lessons they had learned on the athletic field. However, there comes a time when every little boy has to give up his dream and go to work in the real world. Curt had chosen real estate and lending; J Dub was at a crossroads.
Marcia had taken all of the paperwork to her father’s lawyer and everything checked out. Actually, the buy/sell agreement between the parties was very fair. There were provisions that covered many situations. A formula for establishing value was spelled out.
Lew was the majority stockholder in the corporation and J Dub was the minority stockholder in the corporation. It was agreed that the two parties would operate under an 80/20 split. It was a fabulous opportunity for J Dub to build the business and ultimately buy the business once Lew decided that he wanted to sell it.
On the road from Texas . . .
It was a bright, sunny, crisp morning as J Dub completed the last leg of his journey from Humble, Texas with a U-Haul in tow. Marcia did all that her condition would allow her to. Days earlier she put a lot of the little things in boxes while J Dub and an acquaintance had cleaned out the double-wide and loaded the few possessions that J Dub and Marcia had into the U-Haul.
“I hope that everything works out okay. We don’t know this guy at all,” J Dub said in an excited, but anxious way.
“If he turns out to be a jerk, then you can always get out of the deal. Just keep hitting balls,” Marcia deadpanned.
J Dub grinned from ear to ear. If there was anything he loved to do, it was pounding ball after ball on the driving range. “There’s no problem with that. I just hope that we’re not walking into something that doesn’t make any sense,” J Dub stated with caution as if to reinforce his major decision. Marcia’s anxiety seemed to grow with each passing mile marker. “Okay, honey. Try to force a little smile,” J Dub said. He grinned at his wife across the car seat.
Marcia was clearly apprehensive. “I’ll be really pissed off if he screws us.”
“Let’s go full force through that open door and make the best of it,” J Dub said. He clamored with excitement. He had flown up, met Curt, and had driven to see the place a week earlier. They felt that even though the course was run-down and the clubhouse was in need of repair, a wonderful business opportunity existed for J Dub and his family. It seemed that for the first time in a long time, things were turning around.
J Dub and Marcia went down the road and traveled to the banks of the Mississippi River. The directions to the title company were perfect. The young couple had a budding business opportunity awaiting their arrival. In short order, J Dub and Marcia parked their U-Haul in front of FARMBELT ABSTRACT & TITLE COMPANY.
The office of the title company was located in an older home near the business district of town. It appeared that it had been someone’s residence at one time, but had been converted into a business as the town expanded.
J Dub and Marcia entered the door. Both of them were apprehensive about the sudden turn of events. J Dub’s adrenalin was overflowing. Marcia’s skepticism was presented as a nervous mother-to-be.
With the energy and chirpiness of a baby robin going after a worm, Mary Jean greeted them. “Good morning! You must be the Schroeder’s.”
“We’re here for a closing,” J Dub mumbled as his stomach began to tie in knots.
Marcia looked around and checked out every little nook and cranny of the place. She eyed some artificial plants and whispered to J Dub, “Even the plants are fake.”
“Just relax. Everything will be fine.”
“Gag me,” Marcia said.
“Don’t let Lew hear that. We don’t even know the guy. It might turn him on.” J Dub returned the deadpan expression and gave her a lightning-fast wink.
Mary Jean made an offer. “Can I get either of you any coffee or doughnuts?”
They declined. “We had something on the way,” Marcia answered.
“Where did you come in from?” Mary Jean probed.
“All the way from Texas,” J Dub responded. “It’s been like a tornado the last couple of weeks.”
Mary Jean beamed. Her enthusiasm was infectious. “Are you excited?”
“Why sure. This is a big deal for us,” replied J Dub as he began to loosen up a little.
Mary Jean noticed the advanced stage of Marcia’s pregnancy. “When are you due?”
“I still have a few more weeks.”
George popped his head around the door. The minute his eyes hit Marcia’s, she felt something was wrong. He had that look about him that signaled that his intentions were for him and not them. “Hi, I’m George Pierce. Come on into the conference room.”
He extended his hand to J Dub and they exchanged pleasantries. Marcia nudged J Dub from behind and shook her head no to warn him. He looked a little perturbed. J Dub was concerned by the cold feet that Marcia was experiencing. He jerked his head toward the conference room, gave her a frustrated look, and followed George.
As they entered the conference room, Lew stood up and eyed Marcia. “J Dub was right! Wowee! He said you’d be my best daughter-in-law!”
Marcia forced a grin and patted her belly. She turned to J Dub and in a condescending tone asked, “Have you already picked the godfather, too? My, what a lucky girl I am.” The whole process had been moving too quickly for her satisfaction.
J Dub made light of the situation and covered for his wife. “This pregnancy thing has her worked up a little.” Marcia shot J Dub a dirty look and forced a smirk for the group.
Forced laughter filled the room.
“I guess we’re all stuck together for a while,” Marcia conceded.
Lew was ready to get down to business. He grabbed a chair and sat down. “J Dub. Marcia. Are you two youngsters ready to make your first million?” Lew cried.
Marcia was cynical. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Lew continued, “This is an opportunity of a lifetime for you two.”
J Dub replied, “We couldn’t be any happier.” As he mockingly smiled at his wife, Marcia turned to glare at her husband.
Lew was oblivious to the banter that the young couple had exchanged. His mind was focused on closing on the property as quickly as he could. “You’ve met George. He owns the title company and is doing the closing for us. Walter Hancock will be our accountant, J Dub.”
Walter stood to shake hands with the young couple. “This transaction will be beneficial to a lot of parties.”
Lew shoved a document toward J Dub. “We’ve got some paper work to take care of. This is a partnership agreement that I had my lawyer draw up.”
“Can we look at it?” Marcia asked.
“It’s just simple, basic stuff. It’s easy to understand. It’s the same document that you got for review a couple of days ago,” Lew countered matter-of-factly. He wanted to get the formalities out of the way.
“I just want to make sure,” Marcia replied with a hint of aggravation. She took copies of the document out of a manila envelope and compared the verbiage. J Dub and Marcia flipped through the pages.
“Here’s the contract with the seller, and the financing agreement, and the legal description of the property as well as the survey,” Lew hurried. “George did the closing statement.”
George and Lew pushed several documents toward J Dub and Marcia. They flipped through the pages. Once they were satisfied that all the documents were the same as what they had reviewed they wrote their signatures.
“Now we’ve run all of this by our lawyer. If he suggests any changes at a later date, then there won’t be a problem?” declared Marcia.
“. . . Absolutely. No problem. We
can always amend,” replied Lew. He stood and extended his hand. “Congratulations! Let’s go look at the place!”
J Dub turned to Marcia. “It’s probably not a bad idea to go look at whatever we just paid a million bucks for.” As crazy as it sounded, even though J Dub and Curt had driven by the place and given it their blessing, Marcia had never seen the property.
Marcia mocked him more than ever. “You got that right. I’ve witnessed my share of dumbass moves over the last few months.”
Chapter Fourteen
Crazy things happen in life. The last few weeks had provided a roller coaster of emotions for J Dub and Marcia. It started with the highs and lows of that fateful day on the golf course during the qualifying tournament which morphed into the opportunity to become self-employed.
But to go into business with a total stranger and buy something for a million bucks, sight unseen, was going over the top. Now, Marcia was about to crawl into a banged-up station wagon that had a wrecked front-end just weeks before delivering a child.
As luck would have it, the trip to the course was short and uneventful.
Lew pulled the car around the corner and they entered the parking lot. A broken-down sign propped against the base of a tree read: PRAIRIE WINDS GOLF COURSE. The sign looked weathered. It appeared as if the previous management group had let the maintenance on the grounds slide.
At first glance, the place was a disaster. Weeds were everywhere. The parking lot was a mixture of pot holes, gravel, and torn-up asphalt. The cart barn needed to be painted and had a loose door flapping in the wind.
The telltale sign of trouble ahead was in the first glimpse of the clubhouse. Shingles were falling off of the roof. A wrought-iron railing was loose. The guttering was detached. An upstairs window was broken and served as a nesting spot for as many sparrows as the eye could count.
It looked like the two-story frame home was built during the Depression. The balcony in the rear had a broken support beam and was falling down. A large crack in the foundation allowed a view of the lower level. A pump for a water-well was just yards from the front door.