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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 1, 2017 14:40:54 GMT -6
OUT OF THE STUMP
An Unanticipated Plot Development While Writing A PAW Fiction Story
I have been participating on this PAW Fiction board for over a year and genuinely appreciate the work of the authors on their stories. I also appreciate the feed back to those authors from the rest of this community. Prior to discovering this site, I had made a few minor excursions into writing short stories in a different genre and only for my own amusement. I came here looking for a little distraction, some entertainment, and to periodically clear the cobwebs from my head while I am working on my own non-fiction book. Well, you guessed it. I got seduced into writing a PAW Fiction story of my own to break up the tedium of my ponderously detailed non-fiction writing. Then I ran into a truly unexpected plot twist. As other writers and I have discussed, sometimes when writing fiction the story takes on an unexpected "life" of its own. Some times this is driven by the development of the individual characters and how they react to each other and to their circumstances, but sometimes it is driven by the writer's research to assure the story seems more plausible and "real". Well that happened to me with my new fictional story. I found myself thoroughly delighted with the way the characters were developing and their unexpected interactions with each other. I was actually enjoying the story myself, in spite of the laborious effort required to write, re-write, and refine the wording as well as the story line to get it right. One of the keys in most PAW fiction is the trigger(s), buttons, or tipping points that initiate the societal reset, because these often have a huge impact on how the challenges develop for the characters. I was extremely surprised as I developed the scenario that triggered the apocalyptic reset as I was envisioning for my fictional story. As I researched and developed that theme to accurately present its details in a plausible way, it began to astound me that this particular natural scenario that was emerging had never, as far as I had been able to find, been discussed as a potential mega disaster scenario. I found more than adequate scientific and technological data to support this specific scenario, but the pieces which seemed glaringly obvious to me were not being put together in a reasonable fashion in any writing I could find elsewhere. Sometimes I would find allusions to some of the effects I was describing, but it seemed almost like someone was creating a false trail of misinformation, or deliberately leaving key pieces, readily available elsewhere, out of their discussions. I dislike the notion of paranoid thinking, but it almost seemed like the experts were deliberately skipping the obvious to throw other people's thinking off the track of this seemingly more plausible and more likely scenario. Anyway, the story was developing very, very well along several fronts (At least is seemed that way to me, since I had not offered any piece of it to this community nor anyone else for their feedback, yet). That is when I got a really big and troubling surprise. How shall I put this? Let's say I was – um – instructed to stop work on this story immediately. Yes, Right Now! The reason for my stopping was not specified, but the imperative and the authority behind it was unmistakable. That is as much as I feel comfortable saying on that subject. I had to back off, but the lure of writing was too much. Eventually I started over, but with a more sober frame of mind. This preface is my way of apologizing to you if this story I share is not quite as real as the one that might have been. The story I am now providing is fictional work about a group trying to survive in a PAW, but the references to the cause or causes of the reset have been almost completely omitted. Identifiable and even decipherable geographic references and inferences have also been either removed entirely or made far more generic. I apologize especially for the geographic ambiguities, because I personally find those to be very engaging when I am reading fiction. The story I will now be offering you will, I hope, still be entertaining, and provoke thoughtfulness about how you prepare, Please forgive this for being a more sober presentation, however, due to the author's mood as a result of his – additional experience. As the category for this thread indicates, this is a story still being written, not just edited, so we will have to watch together to find out where it goes. Please, please give me honest feedback and suggestions. I value your participation, and do not worry about being too critical. My skin is very thick. Thank You.
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Post by 9idrr on Jan 1, 2017 15:16:28 GMT -6
Damn, pbbrown0, you've set the hook before the lure's even hit the water. Will there be a prize if one of the commenters comes up with a guess that covers what you were "instructed" to ignore? Thanks you in advance for puttin' in the work to bring us another story.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 1, 2017 15:21:39 GMT -6
You know the old saying, "If life gives you lemons, make lemonade." I had to get something out of all that work and insight I had to -- set aside. Glad you liked the lemonade.
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Post by solo on Jan 1, 2017 16:27:11 GMT -6
Dang, That gave me chills. I don't get chills easily. I got chills because of my line of work, what you just described can and does happen. Frequently. Can't wait to see how you handle the sober story. I can only image the real story about the real catalyst.
Okay, ya hooked me! Now really me in!
V/R, Solo
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Post by misterjimbo on Jan 1, 2017 17:52:00 GMT -6
Well now that you have gotten us all intrigued, confused, confounded and pissed off by talking about it and not getting to the story I have noted that you are on line and just sitting back enjoying the comments while considering when to actually put the story out.
Does that mean that some entity was monitoring your work as you were writing it? Before it was sent out for a look? Or, did your significant other walk by and slap you up side the head and tell you to clean up your work?
So, there. You may continue now. Thanks
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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 1, 2017 18:25:08 GMT -6
OUT OF THE STUMP Post # 1
Modern society seems to think little of cutting down a tree to make room for progress, which is a rather ambiguous term. I am not one of those tree huggers who thinks you should never cut down a tree. I have cut down a few, myself and I fully intend to cut down even more. I do value and admire trees, however, and when I cut one down I have enough respect for what that tree is to be sure it is not wasted. If, like me, you have cut down a number of trees and then instead of just moving on, remained in the same area in the weeks that followed you may have seen something amazing. Many times a tree which was cut down to a stump will not give up. Instead it will sprout again out of the stump regardless of the height of the stump. Most times it cannot get enough new growth soon enough to sustain the roots, but once in a while a tree struggles then grows to a decent size again.
Michael had finally lost it. The slings and arrows of outrageous fortunes seemed to have been drawn to him like scrap steel is drawn to the crane magnet in a salvage yard. After a suffering through the unrelenting onslaught of Murphy's Law Michael had finally taken leave of his senses. At least that's the way it appeared to those who had known him for years. He had at one point been blessed with a model family, a good job, and an enviable future. Now all of that was gone. Throughout his life he had garnered an exceptional level of respect from virtually everyone who had known him as more than a mere acquaintance, but now the respect had been largely overshadowed by an uncomfortable, and a disconcerting pity. His decision to take a very modest inheritance and pursue some crazy idea of running off into the woods to become a lone hermit, was just a confirmation of his dramatic, total defeat in the game of life. No one could talk any sense into him, no matter how hard they tried to stop him from making a fool of himself. Obviously the stress of his dreams and expectations being totally devastated had taken a toll on his psyche. The eternal optimist had finally been pushed over the edge to despair.
If they could only see him now they would think they had been understating just how far he had been pushed. Here he stood; a former computer systems consultant now in the middle of a mountainous woodland that was miles from the nearest trail and even farther from the nearest road to nowhere. All he had were the supplies and tools in and on his back pack and a hand drawn cart he had been pulling up the mountain for about the last five hours. It would be incomprehensible to his professional colleagues that standing here in this environment he was elated to be home. This was his land. He had spent over half of his inheritance to buy just a few isolated acres, saving back enough to pay the property taxes for the next fifteen years. The fact that this place was so isolated and that there was no access to it except for a foot traffic only easement through the surrounding land had helped convince the previous owner to sell it for a rate per acre that was unusually low for this area. In their view he was some eccentric old codger who was willing to buy a small parcel of unusable, and virtually inaccessible, land in the mountains, just so he could hike into the woods and go camping.
What they did not know or bother to ask about was how Michael planned to build a sustainable long term haven here. On this small piece of land he could sustain himself without any dependence on outside resources, almost. His plan actually went beyond that selfish consideration. He knew that many others were going to feel the pain of the hard times ahead. He hoped to be able to accommodate a few beyond himself in this tiny haven. It would be a cold and lonely world if he survived but was totally alone.
Michael was tired from the long up hill trek though the woods carrying all of his gear. He still had not adjusted to the somewhat higher altitude. His euphoria over finally beginning his new adventure helped to overcome his fatigue. The time had come to get to work and set up camp. There was still plenty of drifted snow on the ground, so he would have a manageable water supply until he got his well dug. The first order of business was to make a temporary shelter for the cold nights that were still ahead before spring.
Michael had finally laid down in his sleeping bag, actually it was more like he collapsed into his sleeping bag, under his temporary wilderness style shelter. His tunnel fire pit would keep him warm enough through tonight even if the fire died down. Tomorrow he would work on refinements of his shelter and fireplace. Even though he was tired, his mind was still excited about finally beginning his mission. As he tried to settle down and sleep, his thoughts swirled around how he came to this location and this place in his life...
It seemed to him like only a few years before that he had been on track for early retirement with his wife of thirty years. That could not possibly have been fifteen years ago, could it? His children were all but grown and the future for them looked very bright as well. Then everything started crumbling. Every unexpected setback and twist of fate that came his way was met with his unfaltering confidence in the future and determination to meet the challenge. His Father, his father-in-law, and multiple other family members of that generation had managed to work over fifty years in the same company. How was it that Michael, in spite of consistently top notch performance reviews from one employer after another found himself again and again being forced to find a new employer? At one point his own father commented that the Bible story about Job had always seemed to him more of a parable than a story about an actual person; until he saw it happen to his own son.
At each economic downturn, or major reorganization by his employers, it seemed Michael's job was included in the first cut backs. He always managed to grab onto another ladder he could climb with another company, but the ladders kept getting less sturdy and more vulnerable. Then another economic downturn or massive reorganization by his newer employer would come along, and it always came at the worst possible time for Michael. During one of those progressively lengthening employment gaps between being hit by a “Reduction In Force” and finding yet another new job, Michael's wife was hit with a devastating illness. The health insurance bridge from his previous employer's health plan had already run out, and the new 'almost promise' of a job had not yet been officially confirmed, so there was no insurance coverage for her 'pre-existing' condition when he finally took the job.
Several years later his wife of over forty years passed away, and Michael found himself with no job, no savings, no property, and almost no family. His children, like so many of their generation, had been seduced by the illusions of modern society and scattered themselves to the four winds pursuing their own careers. They were too busy anxiously making a life for themselves and hoping to not find themselves in their Dad's predicament, to see their Dad except at Christmas. Even phone calls were rare. Michael's mother had passed away less than a month before his wife, and his Dad was in a retirement/extended care facility about thirty miles away. Michael had been determined to start over, but at his age he had become an anathema in the corporate world, and a true misfit in the world of entry level jobs. He was barely making enough to get by, and his prospects for promotion from the entry level jobs were laughable. Had he been even ten years younger, he would have been first choice for promotions based on his effectiveness, experience, and work ethic (meaning he gave more to his job than was expected), but management assumed that at his age he was just filling in the short term gap until he retired. They could not grasp the notion that a man his age would want to work even one day beyond his eligibility for a social security check.
Michael had scrambled for the next four years trying to get pennies an hour type raises. At one point he even switched to a new employer for a pay increase of only $100 a month. He was pinching his budget until it screamed in order to save back even a little bit for emergencies. He rode a bicycle to work to save a few dollars on gasoline each a month. Some who had known him before tried not to think about him. It was just too scary to contemplate someone that conscientious and with that much ability and potential falling that far without ever having made a major mistake in his career. Once upon a time he had been surrounded by friends and family. Once upon a time, if he thought of something he needed, and that did not happen often, he would simply buy it. Once upon a time the future looked rosy, happy, and comfortable. Now, it seemed the fairy tale was over. It was harder life situation that Michael was to adjusting to, but what lay ahead looked even more ominous. Like Daniel, he had read the handwriting on the wall, and he understood what those words really meant.
Michael was a problem solver, and knew he would soon be facing the biggest problems of his life. He had struggled to find possible solutions, but there was only one solution he had found that would address both his own retirement issues and the ominous handwriting on the wall regarding what lay ahead. Even that one solution seemed impossibly crazy when it first came to him. Unfortunately, this solution depended on getting through yet another hard personal blow for Michael. It would also mean uprooting himself from an area where his family had lived for a century and a half. He would need to move back to where his ancestors had been, in more ways than just geographically, several centuries before. If he was going to make it, he would need to learn a lot of skills that had never even been considered in all of his decades of formal education and ongoing professional development. Like a hunting hound that caught the scent of its quarry, Michael threw himself in to his study and planning. He, somehow, also knew that he would not end up alone in this new venture.
By the time his father passed away, being well into his nineties, Michael's plans had become very clear. He liquidated his portion of his father's remaining assets, packed up his few tools and gear in his Jeep, and hit the road. It took several days on the road to get to his destination. He had already searched out in advance a few real estate agents of the kind he would need in the area he was headed. While he was still on the road he was able to schedule appointments to interview several of those. He wasn't looking for an agent who knew how to market a property that the owner wanted to sell, or scan the listings databases of properties for sale. He needed an agent who could find and persuade a land owner to sell a small parcel of their non-productive land at a below market price.
He had selected an agent and was very pleased with the results. He had actually been able to negotiate for a larger tract than he had hoped for, once the agent he selected understood his strategy and all the pieces fell into place. He was now the owner of a completely undeveloped and 'inaccessible' tract of land surrounded by a expanse of privately owned mountainous, wooded wilderness. Furthermore, under pressure from environmental lobbyists, legal restrictions had been imposed on much of those surrounding lands to strongly discourage their commercial development, while not actually prohibiting that. That left the land owners in a bind of being required to pay taxes on land they could no longer develop or market to generate revenue. Michael had seen this tactic used buy government entities in many other localities to 'encourage' land owners to throw in the towel and give the land back to the government for the tax break. This tactic kept the local government from having to force the owners to sell the land to the government under eminent domain laws. This way the government entity did not have to prove a greater benefit for the general population, nor did they have to lay out an expenditure to acquire the land. They simply had to exercise their discretion and patience to outmaneuver a few of the non-political citizens with regulations and taxes until they gave up on their property.
Michael's purchase was a win-win for him and the seller. He also found an attorney who had written a number of land deed contracts. She had followed his requests and criteria to draw up a cleverly worded title deed contract to, hopefully, help protect both the seller with the surrounding land and Michael on his small parcel from future detrimental changes to the property usage rights. Michael paid cash for the property and the fees and got the paper work all filed at the county courthouse. While he was at the courthouse getting all the paperwork filed, he was musing at how this very courthouse now held the records of similar, though simpler, land transactions conducted several centuries before by some of his own ancestors. It would be interesting to compare how his new venture in this area of his older roots would compare to theirs...
Michael's thoughts seemed to spin endlessly as he tried to get some sleep that first night. Maybe it was the fatigue, the higher altitude, or perhaps the intensity of this new beginning, but he hovered in that never-land between fully awake and fully asleep for what seemed like the whole night. He must have gotten some sleep, however, because he suddenly woke up to bright daylight leaking through his shelter walls. He grabbed a couple of energy bars and a bottle of water, then crawled out of his shelter and went to work digging his first well. There was natural flowing water just outside his property line. The fact that it was not on his property had helped with the negotiated price for this piece of land. Having examined the terrain before the purchase, Michael was confident there would be adequate ground water on his property for a shallow well, so that was his priority at this stage. The issue of modifications to the stream and ground water rights, at Michael's insistence, had been specifically addressed in the deed contracts to protect both parties. By Thursday Michael's well was virtually finished. He was becoming very aware that he was going to need some time to build up his strength and stamina, particularly in this higher altitude. He was only at about four thousand feet, but he had spent a lifetime living in what was essentially the coastal plains and working desk jobs.
Michael decided to get to sleep early and hike to the nearest town first thing in the morning. It would probably be noon or later before he actually got to the town. There were specific supplies he would need soon, and if they were not in stock at a local hardware store he would need to get some orders placed, so he could cart them back to his site in another week. One item he would probably need to order was a second log arch dolly. He had learned that you could connect two together in such a way that the log could be suspended at both ends, rather than having only one end suspended and the trailing end of the log dragging on the ground.
During his long hike into town Michael was dogged by the memory of another of those surreal dreams about his late wife. It had been quite some time since he last had one. It was a bitter sweet occurrence that twisted his head and his emotions around vividly at a deep level while he was dreaming. Of course he missed her presence, but there was more. There was a part of him, a very big part of him at his core, that was simply made to love another person with all of his heart. That part of him had been put in the root cellar of his life for now, but it was still definitely there, waiting for this deep winter season in his life to pass.
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Post by papaof2 on Jan 1, 2017 19:08:23 GMT -6
Off to a good start. Can you tell your boss that you need to take the rest of the week off to care for a sick animal? I'm sure the Moar Monster will be needing care tomorrow ;-)
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Post by 9idrr on Jan 1, 2017 20:31:16 GMT -6
Good start, good premise with the idea that one may have to begin again. Wouldn't be that easy on the other side of thirty... uh, forty... um, fifty... ah, lets just say us experienced guys past maybe sixty. How about way past sixty, yeah, that's it. When you wrote " Obviously the stress of his dreams and expectations being totally decimated had taken a toll on his psyche" I'm guessin' you may've meant "devastated" instead of the word for the old Roman term that reflects the killing of one out of every ten. Keep up the good work.
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Post by tckaija on Jan 1, 2017 21:25:05 GMT -6
Ahhhhhhhh.... Yes!
I so can relate to your character...
Year after year of jobs being eliminated out from underneath once...
The urge to return to the family Roots/ground....
Thank You! and I will patiently await for more....
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Post by misterjimbo on Jan 1, 2017 22:44:26 GMT -6
Thank you. Very good start.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 1, 2017 23:57:43 GMT -6
Thank you all for your feedback. Good catch on word selection 9idrr. Papaof2, I will tell him as soon as I can find him. misterjimbo, as to 'who' -- revealing that might turn the lemonade into something too hard to swallow. Maybe that is best left as a teaser as far as y'all are concerned. This is a major rewrite in which I am going to be very careful to avoid what I think was the cause of that issue. btw those old story files were only on my hard disk and have now been erased and overwritten.
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Post by bretf on Jan 3, 2017 13:38:11 GMT -6
Wonderful start on the story. I hope that first post was the Prologue, but I’m afraid it’s not.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 4, 2017 2:17:38 GMT -6
OUT OF THE STUMP Post # 2
As Michael approached the village he was finally able to shake off his thoughts about that dream from the previous night. His thoughts turned to musing over the dichotomy of this curious little community. Some of the residents here were small town style locals who lived and worked here as 'permanent residents'. They were not overly ambitious, if ambitious at all, but did seem to know pretty clearly what was important to them. They did have a curiosity about what others were doing, but only to a limited degree. No matter how strange other peoples choices and notions might be, it was no skin off their nose as long as it didn't affect them or their friends. Then there were the non-locals, who were more often referred to by the locals as city folks. Even though some of the non-locals had actually lived here longer than some of the locals, they were seen as temporary outsiders by the locals. These non-locals were people who seemed more in tune with city environments and were here to get a break from the city frenzy. Some had summer homes here while others had actually come here to retire. It was not uncommon to hear them mention how nice it is to have a little more room to breath. The real distinction between the two groups, it seemed to Michael, was that these 'non-local' people never established a bond with any of the other families in town. They interacted with the merchants and local craftsmen, but only so far as it took to conduct business with them. The non-locals did not even seem to connect even with the other non-locals in the community. These non-locals, or city folks, typically had larger modern homes that were surrounded by an acre or two of open space around the house. A few had their houses on four to ten acre plots just outside the village with their property sometimes reaching into the edge of the woods. The local residents typically, but not always, had smaller more modest housing. A few of the locals lived in space that was built either above or behind their own stores. In reality the city folks in the village outnumbered the locals. At it's heart New Sidon, which was formerly an agricultural community, including some timber harvesting, had evolved to where most of its not so thriving economy was centered around providing services for the non-locals and a smattering of tourist that came 'to get in touch with nature' for a few days at a time on clearly marked hiking trails.
When Michael finally got into town he was looking over his list of needs, and comparing it to the inventories of the stores in this small village. He realized there would be quite a few items that he would have to order, but many would not be needed right away. Because of his self imposed constraints for transporting supplies to his site, like having already already sold his Jeep, he would have to arrange to have his supplies delivered to one of the stores. With no roads to his site, no one would be able to deliver his orders directly to him, so he would need to pick up the materials and tools he ordered in small batches over a period of weeks. He got a preliminary order together and learned a number of the items could be delivered to Pete Burleson's hardware store by Monday. Michael asked around and found he could rent a small room at the local tavern to sleep in over the weekend while he waited for his order to arrive. He also spoke to Liam, the proprietor of the tavern, about his need to use the room again from time to time, so he would not have to turn around and immediately trek back every time he came to town for supplies. Staying overnight would also help him with his need to develop acquaintances and friendships within the town.
Michael's decision to create a Haven that was not only off the grid but also divorced from dependence on high tech conveniences was going to be particularly challenging. The urgency of getting the Haven established was forcing him to make compromises during the period when he transitioned from using what others had made to using only what he could make himself. He understood human nature, including his own nature, well enough to know he had to be deliberate and cautious about the tools and materials he chose. He was certain that there were serious long term changes on the horizon, and he had to prepare for more than a few years of disruption to the normal way of doing things. He had decided as a fundamental principle that if it was not feasible to make and maintain something himself, he must not fall into the trap of depending on that kind of device in his Haven. If he could see himself making something from scratch, then he might consider a temporary compromise of buying a similar tool, device, or material now, even though it was made by others. This kind of compromise was only made to shorten his preparation or transition time. Ironically, after a lifetime of working in the microprocessor world, it seemed quite easy for him to decide he could live without any electronics or even electricity. The hardest rule he made for himself was his decision to disallow any electric or internal combustion motors for the Haven.
On Monday much of his order arrived, including the second arch cart. This was a big compromise on his “can I make it myself, and should I go ahead and buy one just to speed up the process” list. He already had a feeling he was going to become very dependent on those carts, but he could not spare the time to make a suitable substitute. Along with his supplies, an early spring snowstorm arrived. He had not prepared for this possibility, so he now he needed some extra items that he had left at his shelter on the mountain. He also realized that if it snowed too much, he might need to leave the arch cart for a later trip. Clearly he needed to adapt his mindset to a new context of thinking ahead. There were certain areas of planning (like the impact of the weather on his travel and survival) that were still new to him, and he needed to make some adjustments. With that in mind he decided to ask a few of the locals about what they anticipated from this weather front that was moving in. Their consensus was, you guessed it, for a harder spell than he had expected, even after he listened to the weather reports.
He was now faced with either paying for several more days in a very tiny room in town, along with paying for more meals, or pushing on to get back to his shelter with a degree of risk in what might happen on the way. He decided to not be arrogantly foolish. This was still an unfamiliar climate and geography to him. He had much yet to learn and needed to keep a long term perspective to reach his goals. Foolishly running down an unfamiliar path to recklessly pursuing his objectives was too risky. As it turned out the locals he spoke to were more on point than the weather service reports. It was Thursday again before he was comfortable with heading out. Fortunately the snow was not so deep if he was careful to avoided the drifts. He had used the time in town to get to know a few of the towns people and the business owners better. On his trek back to the mountain he realized he had not really lost a week of work. He would not have accomplished much at his property site until the weather had passed, and the local relationships he was beginning would be crucial for what he wanted to accomplish here.
On his periodic trips to and from town Michael had taken to being somewhat stealthy. The sight of a man on foot using a shoulder harness to tow a log dolly laden with bundles down the road was bound to stir people's curiosity. With him repeating his treks to town for more supplies almost weekly, that sight was sure to draw more attention than he wanted. He made a point of selecting times like before dawn or just after sunset to minimize the number of people who might see him when he was leaving or entering the town. While pulling his cart in town he tried to use mostly back streets and alleys. At the edge of town he would use some hiking trails or dirt roads through the woods until he could get back to the main road at a place out of sight from the houses in and near town. While on the road he was careful to listen for vehicles, and he was constantly watching for places to quickly slip out of sight into the woods if he heard a vehicle approaching. These precautions seemed necessary to Michael, because he had decided it was important to keep his location and provisions under the radar. He was also careful where he entered and left the road to get to and from his mountain Haven. He would vary that spot where it met the main road along a curving half mile stretch. He even avoided following the same route through the forest every time so he was not creating a worn path that could be easily spotted. Maybe that was a bit compulsive or paranoid, but it seemed to Michael that was an easy way to discourage others from finding his place.
Two months later he had the location for building his house measured and staked out, and he had laid out the location for his sanitation system. He was in the process of digging holes for the foundation supports, and had also surveyed the surrounding forest for his tree selections. He had paced himself carefully as he worked alternating between the strenuous work of digging and the lighter work of selecting trees in the forest and staking out measured lines for his construction. His stamina was significantly improving, and soon he would begin cutting trees for his house. His trips to and from town were not much faster, but he was not as tired when he returned home as he had been after the first hike into the mountains two and a half months ago. He was eager to start cutting the logs, but he knew he needed to wait until the sap was flowing strong. Besides the foundation pillar holes, there was a lot of work needed to set up a complete sanitation system. He would also need to make time in the midst of cutting trees and logs to plant and tend his crops during the spring and summer.
This was going to be a year of Michael pushing very hard to be sure he had everything in place so he could make it alone through the winter. He had to be ready for next winter in a number of ways. He would get the foundation structure in place, but he could not start building with the logs until at least next spring. The logs had to be prepared and given time to dry first. Otherwise the house would be in continuing need of repairs. That meant he needed to improve his temporary shelter, since it would simply not be adequate once the real winter arrived. He also had to have enough food supplies and fire wood stored up for the winter.
By the end of August his logs were all cut, kerfed, peeled, and stacked on the drying racks. He was also finished with building the foundation pillars out of stone and mortar. Having spent the late spring and most of the summer hewing and manhandling the trees and logs, Michael's stamina was now better than any previous time in his life. The uphill trek from town with heavy bags of mortar mix slung under the arch carts would have been a terrible strain six months before. Now it was just another days work to get to town and back with a full load. With the Pillars completed except for allowing them to set up, He now he needed to build a better winter shelter, cut his firewood, and finish harvesting the end of summer crops. He would have to buy his meat for this winter and prepare it for storage. Next year he would have to introduce live stock to his farming homestead while he was building a permanent house.
During the summer and early fall Michael had become well acquainted with several local merchants. Liam and Colleen at the tavern were naturally outgoing, and they seemed to be warming up to him. Jake and Mara who ran the grocery store and local post office station were also a delightful couple. If the troubled times ahead didn't come too soon, Michael thought he might be able to sell some of his fresh produce to them in a couple of years. Pete's hardware store carried many of the items Michael needed, and Pete was willing to order anything for Michael that he did not carry in his inventory. Pete, therefore would probably be the person most likely to realize some of what Michael was doing, but with Michael keeping his cards close to the vest, Pete was probably not suspecting the full purpose of Michael's efforts.
As it was getting closer to October Michael began pushing even harder to get things prepared. He remembered the lesson from the past spring about this still being an unfamiliar area for him, and he understood that mistakes in his planning could have dire consequences. He was living alone in the mountains without civilized conveniences and his means of transportation was limited. By the time October arrived he thought, or rather hoped, he was ready for Winter. He had even managed to get a wood burning cook stove up to his retreat. Even though the house was not ready for it, the stove would help with both warmth and preparing meals inside his shelter through the winter. There had not yet been any serious weather, but the season was clearly changing. He was really enjoying the beautiful spectrum of colors that filled the forest in the early Fall. Michael decided it was time to make another trip into town. It had been several weeks since his last trek. This trip would give him a chance to stock up on some supplies for the winter, and he also wanted to get a better feel from the locals about what to expect for this winter. When he got to town, he made a point to chat specifically about the winters here with folks who had longer experience in this area.
Michael's conversations with several long time residents had convinced him to expect a harder than average winter this year. He decided to stay overnight again in town. That would give him time to ask more questions and plan out what extra measures he might need to survive a 'harder' winter. By the time he left town he had a plan for shoring up his preparations. When he returned to the mountain, Michael got busy expanding his winter shelter by adding an outer shell made of more tarpaulins tied to poles he had cut and lashed together. He extended one end of the the outer shelter, doubling the total size of the shelter, and also dug a small root cellar for food storage. He brought some of his firewood under the shelter for times when the weather was particularly severe. He would need to replenish it whenever it was used, but the replacement batched could dry in the warmer air inside the outer shelter. The old timers talked about this harsh winter probably bringing heavy snows. That would make it much more difficult to get to town for more supplies. Michael was concerned about that if his supplies were depleted faster than he anticipated. He had never lived this far north and he was not sure of the practicalities of a “harsh winter” here in the mountains.
As the weather was getting colder and snow was staying on the ground, Michael's trips into town became less frequent. He occupied his time cutting some of his logs into hewn lumber, shaving pegs for next year's construction, and splitting shakes for the roof he would eventually need. About half way through the winter he realized he had badly underestimated how many calories he would consume with his working outside in the cold weather. He had also under estimated the amount of firewood he needed to keep warm inside his shelter. For Michael, without any experience for making a comparison, this winter gave new meaning to the term harsh. During one spell that looked like a slight break in the weather, he headed into town to load up on more food. A log cart was useless with the snow so deep, so he was going to have to backpack as much food as he could manage. He decided to buy dehydrated foods so he could carry more. He might need to stay in town a few days if the dried foods had to be ordered.
When he got to town he was surprised at how warmly some of the people were in greeting him. Apparently his absence had been noticed. He answered their questions about his extended absence with generic comments about the difficulties of getting out with all the snow, but he was careful to not reveal too many details about his location or circumstances. No one questioned him further or commented on how the snow plows were keeping the main road cleared. Michael admitted to himself that it was nice to feel like there were people nearby to whom he was more than just another face. Maybe there was some truth to that idea that in a small town everyone knows everyone. As he suspected, he did need to stay a few days for an order to arrive, and during that time he gained an even greater appreciation for Colleen's cooking skills.
Michael's upgraded shelter was adequate but not spacious. The inner shell was good enough to keep him from freezing with the stove inside, but to work even inside the outer shell, he needed to dress warmly. Rather than working outside, he began to work mostly inside the outer shell on splitting and shaving wood. It was becoming a cold and lonely winter, and the months seemed to drag on. By the middle of March Michael had begun building his house. It was no small feat working alone and using only hand tools, but Michael was not taking any short cuts. His only trips to town now were for groceries, but once he could handle towing the the log cart through the thinning snow cover he could suspend large enough bundles under the arch for several weeks of groceries in each trip. It was obvious that he needed to grow a lot more crops of his own this coming summer. The seed packets he ordered were of little consequence in his loading plans but he was literally multiplying the quantity of seeds he was buying over what he had used the previous year. He also decided to give serious attention to gathering his own seeds this year, so he was careful to get only heirloom seeds.
During the Spring Michael bought a pair of young dogs, some chickens, and a family of goats to add to his farm. In spite of handling and caring for these additions, he had finished building, though not completely furnishing, his house by the end of July. The number of chickens was already increasing, and there were going to be several baby goats by the end of the summer. The two dogs, Great Pyrenees, were rapidly getting larger and were already demonstrating their shepherding instincts without the need for training them. There was only one incident when Michael had to make it clear to the dogs, that the chickens were to be protected rather than hunted. Things were progressing quite well, and Michael was full of hope for his Haven becoming a reality.
It was early August when Michael realized he had not been into town for several weeks. He also knew that in another few weeks several of the goat does would be kidding, and the heavy harvesting at the end of the summer would be starting. He needed to get more supplies for canning, and honestly he could use some more contact with people. He was up the next morning before dawn, it was actually almost four o'clock, and he set out toward town with his log dolly. The sun was up already when he slipped in behind the Jake's grocery store and parked his dolly in the alley before heading over to the tavern for breakfast. After breakfast he checked at both the grocery store and the hardware store for canning supplies. He got a load of canning jars at the grocery and ordered both a large canning boiler and pressure canning pot from Pete at the hardware store.
Michael kept his ears open to the normal chatter among the town folks. He was learning that next winter was expected to be about average. There was a lot of talk about the economy being pretty sluggish. Michael translated that to mean that there had been fewer tourists and less spending by the city folks this summer, so the locals were feeling the pinch. He checked on his mail, which as usual was all junk that he need not bother to open. Then he headed back to the tavern to catch an early lunch.
When he stepped inside the tavern dining area and scanned the patrons he noticed Mrs. Van Hoosen sitting at a table with another lady whose back was toward him. He had not seen Mrs. Van Hoosen since he signed the papers to buy his plot of land from Mr. Van Hoosen a little over a year ago. For just a moment Michael took satisfaction in how far he had already come with that small piece of isolated land. He took a seat at an empty table and Liam's wife, Colleen came up within seconds to greet him. She asked if he needed the menu or should she just surprise him. They both laughed at that question because Michael was so totally predictable in his choices when he came to the tavern for meals.
While he was waiting for his usual lunch to arrive, he noticed that Mrs. Van Hoosen was maintaining a very serious and strained look throughout the conversation she was carrying on with the other lady. It truthfully looked like the other lady must be dominating the conversation, because Mrs. Van Hoosen did not seem to be saying much. When Colleen brought Michael's meal, he saw her glancing with a very concerned look at Mrs. Van Hoosen. As Colleen set his plate down, somewhat off center from where Michael was sitting. Michael quietly asked, “Colleen, what is going on with Mrs. Van Hoosen? She is clearly troubled by the conversation with that other lady, whoever she is, and I can see you are very concerned, too."
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Post by 9idrr on Jan 5, 2017 19:28:10 GMT -6
Thank you. Glad you were able to find enough time to drop another tease. This is, of course, less than even one per cent of the total story, isn't it? Please?
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Post by ydderf on Jan 5, 2017 19:33:07 GMT -6
Well done thank you for sharing with me/us.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 6, 2017 10:56:24 GMT -6
Thanks to all of you for your encouragement. Yes, there is a long way to go on this story. You have less that 5% of what I have written, and I have a lot more of the story already in my head that has not been written down. Furthermore, I don't know yet where this story is going, LOL. It is going to be an adventure of discovery for all of us.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 7, 2017 17:42:46 GMT -6
OUT OF THE STUMP Post # 3
Colleen looked startled, then she tried hard to dismiss her previous distraction. Another glance over at Mrs. Van Hoosen's face told Michael that something was clearly wrong. Her expression was even more strained now to the point that Michael was seeing pain there. “Colleen, I don't go around poking my nose into the business of people I don't know, but I bought my little piece of land from John Van Hoosen just last year, so he and his wife are my closest neighbors. His wife over there is clearly distressed about something, and you seem to know more about what is going on than I do. Is there something happening that I should know about, or that I might help with.? “
Colleen turned back to Michael for a moment, then spoke very quietly so others would not hear. “Rose Van Hoosen's husband died a couple of months ago, Michael, and that lady with her is her attorney who came out from the county seat to meet with her over lunch. Her attorney asked me before Rose even got here to wait about taking their order for lunch until after she had time to talk with Rose. Now Rose seems very upset which is so unlike her. Even at John's funeral she was grieving, but holding herself together. I've known Rose since I was a young girl and always looked up to her, but right now I am worried about her. I have no idea what her lawyer could be telling her that is making her so upset. I really wish I could do something to help her, but I don't really know what this is about.”
“That's her attorney with her? Is that Rebecca Sargent? I didn't recognize her from behind. She must have let her hair grow a lot longer since I last met with her. She is my attorney, too, Colleen.” Michael's heart was going out to Mrs. Van Hoosen, knowing from his personal experience how devastating it could be to loose your spouse. It was clear to him that whatever the conversation was about, Mrs. Van Hoosen, was probably still emotionally reeling in the early stages of her intense loss, and was on the verge of being overloaded by her young attorney. Colleen had not experienced that kind of loss, fortunately, and like the young attorney, might not grasp how vulnerable her long time friend might be at this stage. Michael was using their having a common attorney as an excuse for what he was about to do. He was certain that Colleen would think he was being too forward by interrupting a private conversation, but he was determined to diffuse some of the building stress he was seeing there. Michael stood and walked directly over to Mrs. Van Hoosen's table. As he approachedthe lady looked up at Michael with a pained and defeated expression. Rebecca paused and turned to see who was approaching. “Miss Sargent, please forgive me for interrupting.”
Michael dropped down on a knee beside their table so he was not towering over them and turned to his neighbor. “Mrs. Van Hoosen, I am so very sorry. I just now heard about your husband. I understand how really hard it is to loose your spouse. My own wife passed a way only a few years ago. I guess you could say I am your nearest neighbor now, and neighbors should be ready to help when things like this happen. I know sometimes people say 'let me know if there is anything I can do to help', because they think it is a polite thing to say that. Unfortunately they usually get busy with their own routines often don't really get around to doing much at all. Now I do understand how that happens, but that doesn't really help you very much. I want you to know I really mean it when I say that I will help if I can. If you think of something I might be able to help with, please tell me. If I can help, I will. With my location, you can't very easily send a message to me, so if you don't mind I will drop by periodically to check on you. I don't know about what family or friends you have in the area, but you are a bit outside of town and even folks in a small town get rather busy with day to day things. They tend to forget to check on someone they are not seeing every day. I have to come to town periodically, and because of where I live, as you know, I pass very near your house, so it won't be a problem for me to stop by and see that you are alright. Please remember when I drop by, you need to go ahead and tell me if there are any chores you need help with. I would be more than happy to lend a hand. Now, Mrs. Van Hoosen, hear me on this – I also understand how hard it can be at times like this to even organize your thoughts about what needs to be done. So, when you tell you can't think of anything at the moment that needs to be done, please don't take offense if I ask you more questions about that. Remember that I have been through this myself, so I know how hard this time can be emotionally. If you just need a neighbor to talk to, I know how to listen, too.” Michael suddenly realized he had been talking non-stop far more than normal to someone he had only met briefly, a year ago. He hoped he had not overwhelmed her with his offer to help.
By this point Rose had reached out and put her hand on top of Michael's. Her tears were welling up in spite of her efforts to keep it together. Rose's eyes began to rapidly dart back and forth between Rebecca and Michael. She was not saying anything, but her eyes seemed to be almost pleading with Rebecca. Michael noticed that, and he also saw a pensive, but questioning look on Rebecca's face as she focused on Mrs. Van Hoosen.
“Rebecca,” Michael interjected, “sometimes when a person is feeling intense grief, almost everything feels overwhelming. That can make it hard to feel confident when you are trying to making serious choices. That also makes it harder, sometimes, to ask for help when you need it.” He turned and spoke gently to Mrs. Van Hoosen. “Mrs. Van Hoosen, please tell me if I am out of line. I am only trying to help, and if I am guessing wrong, I apologize. I am not trying to pry, but again I am serious about helping if I can. If you want Rebecca to explain something to me about your situation where I might help, she cannot talk to me about anything she has discussed with you without your giving her clear permission to do that. Also, is it possible that you are wanting Rebecca's advice about whether she thinks I can be trusted, since she has worked with me some? I am going to go back to my meal over at my table now, so you two can talk privately. Please believe me, Mrs. Van Hoosen, I would not be able to forgive myself if I betrayed your trust at a time like this. Until you tell me more I do not know if I can help you, but I promise you I would not do anything to cause you more hurt. I also meant what I said about stopping by periodically to check on you, unless you tell me to not do that.”
Michael stood up to return to his table, but Rose held on to his hand and would not let go. “Rose. Please call me Rose, and please sit down. Rebecca, please go back to what you were saying. I know I need to hear some of it again to really understand. Right now I think I need a friend as well as a lawyer.”
“Alright, Rose. I suppose some of this could potentially affect Michael as well, at least indirectly.” Rebecca took a deep Breath. “As I was saying before Michael came over, the amount of land you are inheriting from your husband is now a real problem, because the valuation on it is pushing you well over the threshold for estate taxes. Many times land holdings are considered to have been owned half by each spouse. In this case John inherited the land a portion at a time from from several family members before the two of you were married. In this state that means that he owned all of it. His inheriting it a piece at a time is also why he had not dealt with the estate tax before. There is no tax on an inheritance, technically, but there is a tax on the estate if it is over a certain value. That tax has to be handled by the estate executor, me in this instance, before the inheritance can be handed over to the heirs. Essentially 'we', I am referring to you and the estate collectively since you are the only heir, will have to come up with the money to pay the estate taxes to both the federal and state governments in order to settle the ownership of the land and John's portion of your savings. The value placed on John's estate is almost entirely due to the tax appraisal on his land, which is fairly sizable. John, had been putting back money for retirement, but had not anticipated this special tax expense, since it had never been an issue with his previous experiences of inheriting land." "The big problem, Rose, is that the total of those taxes due is much more than John was able to set back in savings. When something like this happens some of the land must be sold to cover the taxes. However, with the recent regulatory restrictions placed on the forested land in your area, you will be very lucky to find a buyer who would buy all the land or even a significant portion of it anytime soon. Even if you had more time to find a buyer it might be a stretch for you to realize enough from a sale of that land to pay the amount of taxes due, because the most recent official property appraisal did not take into account the impact those new regulations would have on the value of the land. If we cannot pay the taxes in cash, all the land including your house will be, um...legally frozen or confiscated, then auctioned off. The proceeds of the auction will be used to pay off the taxes, and any remainder will be returned to you when you receive the inheritance. However, if the auction price does not cover all the taxes, we would still be required to make up the difference from John's portion of your savings.”
“Rose, my genuine concern is that even if you can find a buyer for the land before it is seized or frozen, in the current market, I am afraid that at best, it will barely cover the taxes. Even if it does cover the taxes, and there is no guarantee it will, that would only leave you the savings John was able to set back for your retirement. The problem with that is that John was planning for you two to live... in your home and supplement your social security benefits with your savings and some income from the land. Coincidentally, a large portion of what John had been able to set aside came from Michael's purchase last year.” Rebecca was still looking directly at Rose, but she was trying to maintain a stoic appearance. Michael could tell that Rebecca was getting there but had not yet mastered the skill of delivering devastating news to a client while remaining completely unaffected by any hint of compassion for their losses.
Rose was still strained as if on some level she understood there was a serious problem, but she couldn't quite get her head around the realities of the problem. “Rebecca, I am sorry for being so dense, but I guess I am not very clear headed lately. I cannot seem to connect all the dots yet.” Michael stepped in again. “Rebecca, please let me try to help Rose understand this, and you can correct me if I misstate something. Rose, I think I can make this clearer, but you need to promise me something first. Things are not always as bad as they seem, so promise me you will not panic when I connect the dots for you. Rebecca needs you to understand the worst case scenario, so you have fair warning of what is at risk. Remember, however, that the goal here is to find a way to avoid that worst case. Are you with me on that?“
Rose nodded to Michael, but looked a bid confused and cautious.
“Okay, Rose, the very worst case is that the land and your home is sold to pay the taxes. That would force you to take money out of your savings, which John had not planned on taking out, to pay for a new place to live. To make things worse, you would then not have any of the income from your land, which John had been counting on. I suspect you have been working hard for years on your farm helping John keep every thing going. Without the farm you would have to find a job elsewhere to have some income, and things have been really tight regarding jobs in New Sidon, lately. I know that sounds bleak, but remember that is a worst case we are going to try to avoid.”
Rose was staring ahead, but not really seeing anything with her eyes. She was processing what Michael explained and letting it sink in. Her husband of twenty five years had never been one to hide anything from his wife. They had been partners all the way in their marriage. She knew exactly where their money came in and where it went out. She also knew exactly what they had in savings. That was something they decided and discussed together as a couple. She and her husband had been happy living a modestly comfortable life. They had considered themselves content with the basic necessities and not driven to acquire more than they really needed. She was now facing a very harsh shock to her economic reality. It had been years since she taught school, and the schools in the immediate area were shrinking rather than growing. In addition to having lost her lifelong partner, her income for the rest of her life was about to get very, very tight.
Michael felt Rose's hand steadily tightening on his, and he placed his other hand gently over hers. “Rose, hang on. I told you I want to help if I can. Let's just take this one step at a time. We may be able to work a little magic here.” He turned to Rebecca and began speaking in a very calm, confident voice. “Rebecca, I don't want to minimize the seriousness of what you are telling Rose, but I don't want her to get into an unnecessary panic. Would you be willing to say I covered your main concerns about Rose's situation? I know you have to be certain Rose understands the potential consequences of this situation.”
“Yes, I would say you explained the crux of my concerns quite well. ”
“Okay, Rebecca, now I want to ask a few more questions to make sure certain points are clear before we discuss the options that might be available. Isn't it essentially true that the IRS can unilaterally ascribe an appraised value to a piece of property, and even if it may seem somewhat arbitrary to us, their assessment determines the taxes due to both the federal government and to the state government, unless we can present to them objective market evidence that the fair market value is something other than what they have ascribed to it?”
“Yes, Michael, unfortunately that is true.”
Rose was clearly on the verge of tears, and also getting agitated. “But Rebecca, John's family has been paying property taxes to the state year after year for over two hundred years. More has already been paid in taxes on that land than even the IRS is claiming it is worth. With these new regulations it is no longer worth a fraction of what they are claiming and everyone knows that. Look at the price per acre we got for selling that plot to Michael. That should show the property is not worth what they are claiming.”
“Hang on, Rose.” Michael patted her hand gently. “I know that doesn't seem fair, but we are not done yet. We haven't even begun to talk about what we can do about this. Remember, Rose, a good magic act often has a surprise, happy ending.” At that both Rose and Rebecca gave Michael puzzled looks.
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Post by 9idrr on Jan 7, 2017 19:17:13 GMT -6
I can't even hazard a guess as to where you're takin' this. I think that's a sign of a good writer.
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Post by kaijafon on Jan 7, 2017 19:45:46 GMT -6
thank you! I'm enjoying this story.
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Post by misterjimbo on Jan 7, 2017 21:01:55 GMT -6
I am truly intrigued. You have something very special up your sleeve. Isn't that just like a hermit.. to turn into a motor mouth.
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Post by methos on Jan 7, 2017 23:58:09 GMT -6
Never thought I'd enjoy a conversation about estate taxes so much. Great chapter.
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Post by ydderf on Jan 8, 2017 13:52:39 GMT -6
Thank you. You have utmost attention.
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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 8, 2017 20:45:36 GMT -6
OUT OF THE STUMP Post # 3-B
At this point Rebecca was concerned for Rose being so frustrated, and she set aside her curiosity about Michael's odd comment. “I certainly understand what you are saying about the land values and the taxes, Rose. The unfortunate reality of this situation is that the IRS has in practice refused to accept any evidence to contradict an official appraisal other than actual sale prices on comparable property in the same area and from a recent date. Other than the sale of land to Michael, there have been no sales of comparable property in this area recently. There just is not an active market in this area right now, especially with the recent regulations that were under consideration, and which have now gone into effect. Furthermore, a sale price to be accepted as comparable it must be the sale of property of comparable size to the property in question. They will not accept your sale to Michael at a lower price as accurately reflecting the value of the property as a whole. They will argue, and actually rule based on their own arguments, that fifty acres of wooded land is not worth much to a lumber operation, where as five thousand acres of forest land may make a lumber operation more economically viable. I know the land has been in your husband's family for generations, Rose. Unfortunately, John had only a small amount in assets that could be liquidated and applied to the taxes compared the the supposed value of all John's family land. I wish this was not the case, but it just seems we have a most unfortunate confluence of circumstances.”
Michael could see that even Rebecca was frustrated with the whole scenario and stepped in again. “Rebecca, am I also correct that the IRS has a rule that in determining the fair market value of an asset that is inherited you have a choice of reporting the market value of that asset as of the date of the original owner's death or the fair market value as of a date exactly six months after the death of the original owner?”
“Yes, Michael, that is also true.” Rebecca was aware of that rule, but was in the dark as to where Michael was going with it.
“So essentially we have, I'm sorry... the estate only has about four more months in which to complete a sale of more than half of that property at a lower price than the current assessment to prove a lower fair market value for all the property in John's will, or 'we' will be forced to pay the taxes based on to the original IRS assessment. We cannot wait indefinitely for a buyer to give a fair market price.”
“Yes, Michael. I am afraid that is how it works. It sounds like you have seen this kind of situation before.” Even Rebecca was beginning to look deflated.
“Yes, Rebecca, I have seen this and other similar games by taxing authorities far too many times for my liking. It is a pretty nasty game, in my book, but this game has rules, doesn't it, Rebecca? That means we need a strategy to win the game quickly for Rose while staying inside the rules.”
Michael's mention of winning quickly caught her attention.“I'm afraid those rules are stacked in favor of the rule makers, Michael. What exactly were you thinking when you mentioned working some magic?” Rebecca was watching Michael with a curious, but skeptical look on her face.
Michael reached into his hip pocket and pulled out his billfold. Then he pulled out a one-hundred dollar bill, and handed it to Rebecca. “I need some advice from my attorney about the legality of some a possible strategies and tactics that I think might help me in protecting my small land holding. Rebecca, can you provide that legal advice for me, and also at my request share your opinions about my strategies with Rose? Since Rose is my only neighbor, I think she may also be affected by the legal maneuvers I am considering. I just think it would be the neighborly thing to do to make her aware of my plans before I take action on them. Also, Rebecca, if you can affirm the legality of my plans, then I would like to hire you to execute some of the necessary arrangements. Of course I would expect that you will keep the particulars of our plans and discussions confidential and limited to just the three of us.”
Rebecca gave a wry smirk to Michael and replied that she could accommodate a request like that since Michael was a paying client, and she was a licensed attorney. Michael proceeded to lay out a plan to establish acceptable evidence that the real market value of Rose Van Hoosen's land is much lower than the initial assessment of the IRS. Essentially the plan was to put a major portion of the land up for auction, but with the same deed restrictions that Michael had included on his land. The fact that an almost identical contract and land sale had been executed before John's death would protect the estate from claims that these restrictions were contrived merely to reduce the sale price for the estate. The portion to be auctioned off would be ringed by land that the estate would retain, and that surrounding ring would ultimately be transferred to Rose, so whoever bought the land that was up for auction would have almost no access to it except by foot traffic. No commercial enterprise would even consider purchasing the land with these restrictions when coupled with the regulatory constraints. Furthermore, the auction would be announced almost immediately, but only once and only in local print newspapers. Michael pointed out that almost nobody read printed newspapers anymore, but there was a long established legal precedent for public auctions and public sale of land being publicized in local newspapers.
There were other special conditions Michael suggested for the auction that would almost guarantee no enterprising individual would be at the auction to present an acceptable bid. Michael would purchase the land at the auction, and the proper papers would be filed at the county courthouse obtaining an almost automatic appraisal adjustment. The record of sale and the manner in which the sale took place would be irrefutable proof of the new valuation. Rebecca could then settle the estate as quickly as possible, at Michael's insistence. Rose would still keep her home and the farm portion of the land that she and John had been working for extra income. Next year, after the estate was settled, Michael would begin selling the land back to Rose a piece at a time at only slightly less than the same price the estate, and therefore Rose, had received from him for the land. Those continuing sales prices would assure that the tax assessors could not arbitrarily raise the appraised value in the foreseeable future.
The plan seemed a bit complicated to Rose, but Rebecca considered his plan and suggested some technical tweaks that would reduce the possibility of challenges from the IRS or the county tax assessors office. After a minute or two more of pondering the plan Michael had outlined Rebecca finally turned back to Rose. “There is a risk, but only a small one, that someone else would outbid Michael for the land. Even if that happens you will still get to keep your home and the farm for income like you and John had planned. Rose, I was genuinely worried about you before this, but I honestly believe this is the best outcome you could hope to achieve.”
Rose was finally understanding how and why the strategy would actually work, then she gasped. “Mr. Green, would you actually do that? I mean even if you stopped half way through that plan, I would be incredibly grateful for your rescuing me. If you take this plan all the way through to the end, like you described, I would come out a huge winner, but you would actually be loosing money. Why would you be willing to go all the way through with that extra step in the plan and sell the rest of John's land back to me like that?”
“Rose, please. My name is Michael. If I can call you Rose, you can call me Michael. Now to answer your questions. Rose, if I were an accountant, which I am not, I might tell you that the losses you mentioned might prevent me from being subject to capital gains taxes, and some of those losses might also be used to offset current or future income to reduce my income tax obligations. Even more important is how it will most likely result in a reduction of my annual property tax obligation for every year in the foreseeable future. If I was speaking as a land owner, Rose, and as you know I am a small land owner, I might tell you that is a very small price to pay for assuring that the right land owner stays in control of the land surrounding my own. Also, in order to protect my land, I need to be certain I am able pay my own property taxes every year. Selling John's land back to you is one way to assure that. – However, the honest truth, Rose,” Michael's tone suddenly changed, “is that I know what it is like to have all your dreams and every thing you have planned and worked hard to create destroyed and erased right before your eyes. If I let that happen to you knowing I could have stopped it this easily, – well, Rose, if I did that I would no longer be the kind of person I am willing to even shake hands with.” Michael held Rose's gaze for about five more seconds then turned to Rebecca.
Michael's demeanor suddenly changed again, and turning to Rebecca he rolled out his next question in the thickest, slowest, most exaggerated Texas drawl either lady had ever heard.
“So,” (Wait? Was that five syllables for only two letters?), “Miss Rebecca Sargent, 'wha-da-ya-say' we put a together one-hum-dinger of a Texas style magic act for the benefit Mrs. Rose Van Hoosen?”
Both ladies could tell that Michael's hint of an accent was not from their local area, but they had no clue where Michael was actually from until that moment. About a second later both ladies began snickering, then laughing, and they laughed harder and harder until they were laughing so hard they were almost crying. Michael knew he was not that funny. Mostly they were laughing because the tensions they had both been feeling were finally being relieved. Rebecca and Rose were still recovering from their laughter and started peppering Michael with questions about where exactly he really came from, how had he learned to hide his accent, why had he decided to move all the way up here, and how he knew so much about inheritances and taxes. The jovial mood at the table was a stark contrast to the mood of only ten minutes before. Colleen stepped up to their table with a tray of fresh hot lunch plates for Michael, Rose and Rebecca.
“I don't know what kind of craziness the three of you are cooking up at this table, but I was cooking up something special in the kitchen just for you. It looks to me like Michael has done something amazing to improve your outlook on things, Rose, and I am so glad to see that. If you three can laugh and eat at the same time, then lunch is on the house for all three of you today. Rose, please forgive me for not doing something earlier. I could see you were very upset, and I wanted so much to help. I just had no idea what this was about, or what I could do. What ever Michael said to you, I am so very relieved and glad that he is making you happy.” Colleen leaned over and gave Rose a hug before returning to the kitchen.
“Michael,” Rebecca got an odd expression on her face, “when I helped you last year with your land contract and deed restrictions for you to buy your plot of land from John, I did not know you or where you came from. I thought at the time that you had some very curious ideas about those deeds. I was honestly thinking you were more than a little paranoid and in some instances just plain foolish regarding some of the restrictions and protections you insisted on explicitly addressing in those documents. Now I must admit that I can better appreciate your attention to details, and I genuinely appreciate the help you are providing to Rose in her situation. I find myself having to seriously reconsider some of my original impressions of you.”
“Is that a lawyer's way, Miss. Sargent, of saying that maybe I am not such a crazy old man, after all?” Michael smirked across the table at the young attorney, who was half his age.
“Well – to be accurate, Mr. Green, I was only addressing the part about your not being quite as crazy as I had originally thought.” Now Rebecca was working to suppress a grin.
“Ouch! Now I know why lawyers are called sharks. That really bites, Ms. Sargent” Michael wagged his head jokingly in exasperation, before all three of them were laughing again.
Rebecca agreed to get started quickly setting up the legal arrangements for all they had discussed, and the three of them got into a more relaxed, light hearted conversation as they enjoyed their meal. When they were finished, they agreed to meet back at the tavern for dinner in two weeks for an update on the plans and to get some paperwork signed. As they were leaving Rebecca stepped aside to talk with Colleen offering to cover the price of their lunches. Colleen refused making Rebecca promise, instead, to take good care of Rose.
“Colleen, When Michael first came over to the table, I was really put off by his interruption, because I was very worried about Rose. But now, thanks to him, ... 'we' will be able to take much better care of Rose. He managed to teach me a few things I never learned in law school.”
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Post by pbbrown0 on Jan 8, 2017 20:52:09 GMT -6
This is a fictional story and is not intended to give legal, financial. or tax strategy advice. Please consult with your attorney, accountant, licensed investment advisor, and any other professional you can find with a government issued license before taking any action or making any life changing decision.
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Post by papaof2 on Jan 8, 2017 21:25:17 GMT -6
Maybe not ask a lawyer because:
We call them lawyers.
The British call them solicitors.
The police arrest prostitutes for solicitation.
Now you know exactly how the British feel about lawyers ;-)
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