Calling the Owner

The no tresspassing sign posted on the large oak tree in front of the home had a name on it. So after a bit of searching, I found that there were three persons by that name in a near by town. I called all of them, and recieved one call back.

The folks said that they were not the owner of the property, but had a hunting lease on it. They also informed me that the owner would never sell. They said they knew about the condition of the home and that they were responsible for keepign the area around the home mowed as part of the agreement in the hunting lease.

I hung up the phone, near broken hearted. Here was someone who was semi-responsible for the home-place and they knew, and either didn't care about the condition of the home or didn't feel it was their responibility to helptake care of it.

On top of that, they saud the owner, who lived out of state, would never sell it and would only lease out the hunting rights.

There were so many questions racing through my mind- who would abandon this place? why would they not care? Is it a matter of the person being out of state? If they won't sell it, would they at least preserve it and the history that is sure to be attached to it?

I began my search for the true owner of the property. Luckily the tax assessor's website for the area it is located in, makes use of some really cool programs/software.

I set up an account and logged in and searched for the road the property was located on. The program pulled up all the names and addresses of property owners on the road. All the information the tax assessor has access to is available on this site.

PLUS (this is really big for me) once you are looking at a assessment, you can MAP IT!
I LOVE MAPS! Too boot, the maps this program uses are AWESOME! So I pulled it up and saw ALL the land that went with the parcel. I changed setting and could see the topography, streams, railroads, water systems, satalight images as far back as 1955 and through 2010.

It was so cool to use that feature and see how the land has changed over the course of the past few decade. Which parts have been logged, how much the tree line has moved in on the pastures, what types of trees are planted (most satellite images are ten in fall/winter and you can tell if an area has evergreen or deciduous trees. I could see the shooting lanes and deer stands the hunters had on the property and old out buildings/barns that are not noticeable from the road.

And I could see the same thing for the properties around the Blackwell home. It was a map lover's Sunday drive in a convertible. Way cool.

So now that I have shown you my inner nerd, I'll continue the story. Ha!

The assessor only list the legal name and mailing address of the property owner. So I began an internet search for the phone number of the owner.

I was so giddy when the owners name and address turned up in the white pages. For anyone who has tried to find a phone number on the internet in the age of cell phones, you know how excited I was. I had feared the owner would be a cell-phone only person who elected not to list their cell phone in the white pages.

Time to call. I was so nervous. What would I say? Would I sound crazy? I had a knot in my stomach.
What if the leasers I spoke with earlier were right, and that I would only be "bothering" him and "he doesn't want to be bothered".

The last thing I wanted to do was tick someone off or offend them. What if I had it all wrong and the owner did care and just couldn't get out to the property on a regular basis. I didn't want to sound rude telling him about the state of the property.

I called. It rang. And rang. And then went to a fax ring.

Well poo! Now what do I do?
I waited a few hours and tried again- thinking maybe they were expecting a fax. It went to fax again.
The next day, I was searching for the owner's family members and thinking of other ways I could contact him. I tried his number one last time, and this time got and answering machine. Joy! ... Poo, what do I say? I quickly tried to tell him who I was and that I needed information from him.

After not hearing from him for a day or two, I decided I would try to contact what I thought might be a family member.

A woman answered the phone, and I explained my situation. She said she would try and get the owner on the phone via a three way call. The owner answered the phone. I began to explain who I was- a reporter from a town near the property, how I found the property, and the state of the property. I asked if it was for sale and if not could I preserve it through writing and photographs.

He explained it was not for sale right now and if it ever came up for sale it would only be with all of the acreage.

This sunk my spirits pretty darn low. I would never be able to afford the hundreds of acres the dog-trot sits on. I got a bit upset thinking about the dog trot slowly rotting away, animals living in it- about it being unloved and forgotten.

I told the owner if there was ever anything I could do to help him preserve the property to please let me know. He granted me permission to access the home and property, take pictures and write about it- as long as if something were to happen to me while exploring the home, I wouldn't blame it on him.

This helped my spirits a lot. I was afraid I would be asked not to call again and told to stay off the property. I was afraid the owner didn't care.

While we would never be able to move into the home and do a live-in restoration like my husband and I day dreamed about, at least I could preserve it through documentation.

After a couple of days of being down in the mouth and putting my day dreams on paper, then filing them away, I picked up my bottom lip and we went out to Sweet Gum Hill to take pictures.