view of Pentagon CityThe expert says: “I understand. But no matter what price we set for your property, there is always a chance it may not sell. I would like to set an appointment to review the activity and reconsider the price in two weeks. We will be monitoring the calls from signs, ads, and open houses to determine our best strategy for locating a buyer. Then we will analyze this information and adjust our marketing campaign as needed until it is sold.”
— Rich Levin, Real Estate Trainer and Coach
It's true: we're still in a buyer's market. I don't see prices continuing to decline, but there are only two options if you want to sell your home: wait patiently for a buyer to see the value of your home, or lower the price to entice a buyer to act now. In the past, homes were selling for more than what they are worth. Today, they are probably selling for less than what they are worth. If you have the time to be patient, hold out to get your price. If you want to act now, don't worry too much because if you sell at a low price, you'll be buying at a low price.
Will NesbittWill Nesbitt is the Principal Broker of Condo Alexandria.
Will Nesbitt's grandfather
Frank Nesbitt was my paternal grandfather. By the accounts of his contemporaries and my personal recollections he was sort of man among men---a likable leader well-recognized in his community. I recently wrote a quick note about his mortgage and realized that many of my younger cousins and younger sisters might not know much about good ole Pepaw (as I called him). So, here's another memory that comes to mind.
Pepaw worked for forty years at a viscose plant where rayon was made. Those types of factories and jobs have largely been moved overseas now. But, for more than a half-century, viscose was the life-blood of Front Royal. The factory worked 24 hours a day in three shifts employing half the town in its operation. Pepaw started work there as a young man and retired from the plant after more than 40 years of service.
Don't ask me how or why, because I'm too young to remember that part, but one day I came with my dad to see my grandfather at work. Most folks called the work site "the plant". The plant was an enormous campus with many different buildings including warehouses, power plants, and places where they actually cooked, made and then threaded the rayon.
On this particular day in the early '70's, we parked in the factory parking lot and walked through the gates and into the offices of the factory. Everything seemed so big to me, and a little disjointed. To give you an idea of the scale of the place, my maternal grandfather (Grandpa as opposed to Pepaw) also worked at the plant in the powerhouse. The powerhouse was just one small part of the plant, but the area that Grandpa had to monitor was so large he rode a bicycle around for most of the day.
Pepaw began his career at the plant as just another guy on the assembly line, but by the time of this memory Pepaw was one of the plant's managers. When we went to visit his office, they said Frank Nesbitt was visiting some office in another building. So my dad and I walked a wide lawn that separated the front offices from "production".
When we got to production, the noise for me was almost overwhelming. The plant was filled with the steady clack of machinery working away. Individually the machines weren't that loud, but when the room has a half-acre under roof and all the machines are clacking away, it can be pretty overwhelming to a young child.
I don't remember what the silvery metallic machines were doing but I know that along the line there were a good many stools bolted to the concrete floor. These stools were work stations where workers monitored the machines and made corrections as necessary.
Across the way, I could see my grandfather. He sort of looked like a tall Carrol O'Connor in a way. He had been an athlete when he was younger, but he now had a bit of a tummy. The pale red hair of his Irish ancestry was combed back and he wore glasses and a short-sleeved dress shirt. It was 1970-something but his glasses were a throw-back to the Kennedy days. (He loved Kennedy.) His pants were probably polyester, because the plant made polyester and it was after-all the fabric of the future.
Pepaw couldn't see us and didn't know we were there. I saw him walk over and tap a guy on the shoulder. The guy was leaned over and talking to a worker. The two them exchanged friendly greetings. Pepaw then invited the man to join him for a chat. The two of them entered an office near the production line.
That office had glass windows all around. Inside I could see Pepaw's desk and a couple of wooden chairs, the kind they don't make anymore. Pepaw sat on the front of his desk and appeared to be engaged in a fraternal chat. Pepaw then stood up and began closing the metal venetian blinds which permitted us to witness the exchange.
My dad and I were closer to the office now, but the blinds and the door were closed. I couldn't actually hear what was being said, but I can tell you this. My grandfather didn't sound real pleased. His booming Irish voice was at such a volume that when he spoke the venetian blinds trembled against the window. The steady click at the plant blocked the sound enough so that the workers couldn't hear my grandfather. But I could, and my dad could.
Dad knew better than to interrupt this conversation.
In a short moment the shouting was done and my grandfather was walking around the office opening the blinds one by one. The employee stood up and turned toward us. I could see that the guy wiping a tear from his eye, but here's what stuck with me. The guy didn't look angry at my grandfather. In fact, he had sort of a smile as my grandfather gave him a big handshake and then opened up the door. The guy had just gotten blasted, but he actually looked like he'd gotten good news. When the door opened, I heard Pepaw say something pleasant about the man's family and Pepaw patted the guy on the back.
As he left, my dad and I entered into the office and my dad sat down in the same chair where the man had been. Pepaw closed the door and he said to me and my father, "You never embarrass a man. If you have something to say to him, he'll listen if he knows you respect him and that you care about him. But if a man needs correction, you take him aside to do it."
I don't for the life of me have a clue why my dad came to visit my grandfather that day. But I've never forgotten how those blinds shook when he unloaded on the poor guy. I also remember how the man took it. He almost looked appreciative and he seemed to have a genuine fondness for my grandfather, even after Pepaw had just blasted him.
For more information or to set up an appointment call Nesbitt Realty at (703)765-0300.
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