When Calamity Strikes at an Open House

Q: Ever had a showing that turned into a scene from a disaster movie?

Vickey Barron

Associate real-estate broker, Compass, New York City

It was the first showing of a two-bedroom penthouse with an 79sqm  terrace on the Upper East Side, near Carnegie Hill. The owners had adopted a baby and they had two little boys. When I first saw the place, they had a section of a sectional sofa—not the whole sofa, just a section—toys everywhere, not one piece of art on the walls; nothing from an interior-design standpoint. The owner said, “It’s not my forte.” I told her, “I will go shopping with you.”

Every day there would be a rug delivered, a coffee table, accessories. I reorganised her closets. We got beautiful, framed photographs of New York and had them hung in a hallway.

By the time we had our first showing, the place looked exquisite. It was about six o’clock at night and it was snowing outside. I had lighted candles on the dining table, there were flowers on the coffee table. It was a really pretty wintertime scene. But right before the showing, the owner came running into the penthouse with the baby and one of the older boys. The baby was crying. She said, “I’m so sorry, I have to change the baby. She has horrible diarrhea.” While she was in the bedroom with the baby, who was crying nonstop, her son ran onto the terrace and started spinning in the snow, catching it in his hands. I asked him to please come in, and he did—tracking soppy snow through the apartment. Then he saw the candles burning on the table, went over and blew them out. Wax spattered all over the table. That startled him. He went running down the hall to his mother, and knocked down one of the framed photographs on the wall. It slid down the wall and just shattered—glass everywhere. Luckily he didn’t get hurt.

I ran to get a broom to sweep up the glass. While I was getting the broom, I saw that the cat had eaten the flowers on the coffee table. It was obvious from the pile of vomit.

While I was sweeping up the glass, the buzzer went off. It was the doorman, saying, “Hi, your people are here. They are on their way up on the elevator.” The baby was crying, the cat was vomiting and then the doorbell rang. I opened the door to the buyers and said, “Hi, can you give me just one moment?” The mom sneaked out the back door with her son and the baby. I finished sweeping up the glass, dumped it in the trash, got the cat vomit up, got in there with the air freshener.

When the buyers were walking through, they said, “Everything looks so beautiful.” I said, “Don’t pay attention to the wax.” It sold at full ask—$1.8 million.

Pam Jackson

Real-estate agent, The Corcoran Group, Southampton, N.Y.

I have a waterfront listing on Shinnecock Bay. The house was built in 1938. It’s darling, with all these old touches, but admittedly the house needs work. We listed it at $1.35 million, then did a price reduction to $1.25 million. It’s on the water, but the buyer would have to spend $800,000 to either demolish it or gut it to the studs.

There are three viewing spots of the bay, including a sun deck overlooking the water, about 50 or 60 feet from the house. The deck is built over the ground where it slopes toward the water. The ground is uneven, so at one end the deck is only a foot or so off the ground, but at the far end overlooking the bay, it’s about 8 feet above the ground. Back in the day, there were steps that went down from the deck to the water and a long dock, but those had both been washed away. It’s a very sweet spot. You see this vast expanse of water and boats going by and paddle boarders.

I had a very tall family come to see the house, two girls and a boy in their mid-20s, with their parents. We went out to the deck and we’re all talking. One of the daughters says, “I see a shark!” I’m thinking, “It’s not a shark, this is the bay,” but everybody goes to the edge of the deck to look. Then all of a sudden we hear this crunching noise and the deck drops a few inches toward the water. The platform had pulled away from the pilings that were sunk in the ground.

What happened next was all kind of a blur. I didn’t even see the mom and the three kids jump off the deck onto the lawn, but they did. The deck dropped another few inches. The father and I are side by side and he starts to jump, then reaches back for my hand and we jump off the widening divide between the deck and the lawn, 3 feet to the ground. It was an Indiana Jones moment.

My heart was racing. I tried to keep it light. I walked the family to their car and thanked them and said, “You’re going to have plenty to talk about at dinner tonight!”

It was at the end of the open house, thank God. They let me know it wasn’t a project they wanted to entertain at the moment. I called the owners and they had the deck removed that week.

Reprinted by permission of The Wall Street Journal, Copyright 2021 Dow Jones & Company. Inc. All Rights Reserved Worldwide. Original date of publication: November 9, 2021