I couldn't believe what I was told today after I called the Oklahoma City Corporation Commission to discuss the land I had nearly purchased. I knew what I was getting into until I didn't. I was being trapped, forced, and coerced into buying something I didn't want, but with no good alternatives being offered, I was so close to being taken advantage of without much of an escape plan. That's where God came into the picture. He really does foresee just how bad the situation I've gotten myself into is, and He was able to fix it without me suffering more than I already had.
The house I used to live in (House A) was situated on 14.4 acres of land. Over 5.5 acres of it were taken up by oil operations, specifically tank battery storage units, and a lease on the property didn't go to the land owner; it was withheld from him because he was stupid enough to buy the land on an "as-is" basis. The people selling the land to him did not even have a legal obligation to tell him he couldn't be paid for the surface rights, but they did. They told him that the surface lease and the mineral rights of the 5.5 acres remained with them EVEN THOUGH he purchased the 5.5 acres.
The 99-year lease began in 1978. Since about that time, the original owners of the property, the ones who refused to give the new owner the rights to his own property, were receiving more than $15,000 a year from the oil company who paid an annual lease for the surface and an additional unknown amount in terms of whatever the well was pumping out. I think the well was closed down in 1994; still, they received about $15,000 each year in rent for the land use. Since the original owners never allowed the new owner to have the rights, it was the new owner's option to buy or not to buy - and he chose to buy. That's on him.
The land surrounding the 5.5 acres is contaminated now. It has apparently been for years and can only get worse. This was verified today when I called and asked if there were any public records of the seepage or the drainage from the oil operations. The Corporation Commission has to keep tabs on all oil operations (wells, exploration, seepage, etc.), and they told me so. The land immediately surrounding the 5.5 acres, about 300-500 feet in all directions, was being contaminated. The house is less than 900 feet from the oil operations, and the backyard I would have purchased was right there in the thick of it.
From time to time, Laura and I could smell a sulfur smell, and though it wasn't too bad and it didn't last long, ChatGPT told me today that it was a signal that there was, in fact, seepage and that it was bad enough to reach the house over 1000 away. I am so glad I didn't buy that house! I am so glad God got me out of that situation. I'm still very upset that neither realtor (mine or the owners') told me that FHA would not loan on such a home.
My realtor knew - but I think she had dollar signs in her eyes. She's a very good realtor, but she had an obligation to tell me, and chose not to. When it was discovered, she blamed the lender. The lender accepted some responsibility, because he could have detected it long before he did, but he redeemed himself. It was my lender who helped me get out of the mess I found myself in. He made sure I got the denial letter from FHA to force my realtor to find me another home.
If I had stayed there, I would have had to put up with a house with cracked walls, cracks in the ceiling, underground sludge making its way to the place, and God only knows what else. The barn needed to be removed; the shelter had to be pulled out of the ground or decommissioned professionally. FHA refused to lend for a few reasons, all of which my realtor was aware of, but I guess she somehow just thought these issues would fix themselves. The place had a popcorn ceiling; it was built before 1978, so it was probably lead-based paint as well. I'm telling you, when I forgave the realtor, I really forgave her. (Jesus did it; I really wasn't wanting to do it myself, but He talked me into it.)
Laura and I had to go by House A today because I forgot to update Walmart delivery with the new address. When Walmart delivered my groceries, I had to drive over to the old place to pick them up. When we went there, I saw something I had not seen before. I saw something I would have questioned immediately had I seen it, but I hadn't, and maybe the inspector found it, because in the TRR he mentioned that the house required piers. Today, I noticed that the entire house was lifted off one corner of the foundation by about 3/4 of an inch. WHAT?
The corner of the house was 3/4 of an inch off the foundation. Yes, that corner required 11 piers, and the pier guys put them in before we signed, but I had never seen that corner the way I saw it today -- yet another thing that would have kept me from ever reselling the place. I asked ChatGPT about it, and the result was that perhaps the guys who put in the piers back in November over-jacked the corner and the house came off the foundation bolts. Crazy!
I doubt the owner ever finds a buyer. He may just have to raze the house and sell the 9.5 acres as hay pasture. That's the only thing it would be good for unless some other industrial place wanted it for storing something - it could be turned into a public storage area perhaps, but it wouldn't pass inspection for a restaurant. The area surrounding the land (if the house was razed) could be used for a number of commercial uses; but alas, I have zero interest in keeping up with them now. I'm just too happy to be free of the twists and turns that could have been churning inside my gut had I been forced to buy the property.
Stepping back and looking at it from my new point of view is amazing. I wanted land for the horse farm, yes, but at the expense of my health? No. God was (and is) so good. We drove up to the house today, and it just didn't feel as good as it did several months back when we thought it would be our home. It's as if my rose-colored glasses have been removed and I see the place for what it is. I guess I'm a little upset with myself for not seeing it, but I was already in the middle of buying it when I found out—that won't happen again.
In my next book, "The Trust", the buyers and the sellers come alive, and a lot of what happens to them happened to me, to the owners, to the sellers, to the realtors, and the lenders of both my new house and my old one. I want to be sure and get the warnings out where and when I can. I may not draw straight lines to the names and faces of those who were actually involved, but they'll know I came mighty close. I could have slapped a couple of ethics charges on two of the people involved, but again, Jesus wanted me to play nice. Mercy, He often reminds me, is for those who show mercy. I want mercy; I have to be willing to show it as well.
Photo Credit: Think Eternally
