The great recession might be letting up, but it has taken its toll. Law firms have done reasonably well, some laying off lawyers and staff to keep profits up, and many others have recently suffered from a decrease in hours billed. However, the plight for the common laborer, who lives closer to the subsistence level than lawyers do, has been tougher.
Until recently, the stock market performance was lack luster, and during the Greek debt crisis, my somewhat emotionally driven wife convinced me that since the market had rallied, we ought to “get out while the getting is good.” Cheryl argued we should invest in residential real estate instead. She had experience renovating a property for a relative that was down and out, and she tried to convince me she could make a better return in the housing market than I could make in the stock market. After all, the dramatic decline in residential housing, after decades of steady rise, has yielded many foreclosures and short sales, and a resulting robust rental market. Then, one night, over a couple of cigars, a fellow lawyer heard Cheryl trying to convince me to invest in her housing plan, and without being invited, declared, “I’m in.” Thus sprang the seeds of an unanticipated investment venture.
To be certain, I have represented many real estate developers who made lots of money, but that has not been the recent trend. In the past, I stumbled into a rental property, or two, and I know that tenants, somewhat like opposing counsel, can be a problem.
Cheryl, however, has a demeanor in dealing with “the man on the street” that some of us lawyers don’t possess. She convinced me that she could renovate properties far cheaper than anybody else, using her persuasive powers and personal approach. She also has a big heart, and it angered her to see the conditions some people were living in at some of the properties we viewed. Part of her investment plan was to give tenants a nice place to live. Hearing no strenuous objection, Cheryl began assembling a work crew that looked like their union hall was a Star Wars bar.
Cheryl’s general contractor is a woman named George and her plasterer is a Mexican named Ivan. Jack, one of her painters, is big and looks like he’s training to be Mr. America. Jack probably did a lot of lifting during his years in jail for selling drugs. He has colorful tattoos all over his body and looks mean, though he is actually gentle.
Billy (I call him “The Kid”), got out of the pen after five years of a ten-year sentence. He nearly killed a man in a bar fight, but since that time has started his own business, has a lovely wife and daughters and is doing well. The Kid has known Cheryl for a long time, and it seems he would do anything to help her.
Patrick is an expert tuck pointer. He is the child of two blind immigrants from Ireland. Patrick grew up on the poor side of town, and he drinks and works hard. He now owns a business with his sons. Recently, one of his sons, who planned to be a professional fighter, was seriously hurt in a fall from a roof, ending his boxing career.
In school, they told Derrick he was “slow”. He was held back and put in special classes. Derrick served some time up the river as well. His claim is that nobody will paint houses cheaper than him, and although he is messy, he is probably right. The school was probably right as well. Derrick always paints with a boom box blaring right wing talk radio. He is a political proselytizer and tends to get in fights with Cheryl’s other workmen. Like Jack and Billy, he is 6’ 3” or taller. Cheryl has to make sure she schedules him on days, and at locations, different from the workers he has threatened to kill.
I met Henry one evening recently. He is Cheryl’s HVAC man. Henry tips the scale at about 400 pounds, and when I met him, I noticed his giant hands and then looked down at his feet. Before thinking, I heard my mouth blurt out, “What size are your shoes?” The answer came back “Well, these are 17½, but they are a little tight.” Henry works his full time day job, and works for Cheryl until late in the evenings. He seems to be putting in an 80-hour week. When Cheryl told him he ought to take off Friday night, his response was “No, we need to get this job done.”
Recently, Cheryl told me and our lawyer investment partner that she had hired a roofer to replace the guy who had gone AWOL. She casually mentions her new roofer has cerebral palsy. Our breath left our bodies at the thought of a fellow with cerebral palsy climbing a ladder to work on a roof of one of our houses. I said to Cheryl, “Well, it must be an awfully mild case?” She responded, “Well, no, Duvan hops around and can’t talk too well.”
When I met Duvan, I realized Cheryl had not exaggerated. One-half of his body doesn’t seem to work the same way as the other half, and his speech is severely slurred. Nevertheless, Duvan has his own roofing company, a couple of employees, and has proved to be a fantastic roofer on top of being a wonderful human being.
So it is that in a struggling economy, Cheryl has assembled a microcosm of America that could be described as either misfits or survivors, as both descriptions fit. Her team is Caucasian, African American, Hispanic, male, female, gay, straight, left wing and right wing. It’s not always pretty. There are conflicts and constant challenges. Still, at a time when some of the individuals at the “top” of our financial institutions have caused harm to our country, and will likely never face legal repercussions, it is inspiring to learn about so many individuals who didn’t have all the benefits many of us lawyers had, and who, against all odds, have no intention of giving up.
©2012 Under Analysis LLC Mark Levison is a member of the law firm Lathrop & Gage LLP. You can reach Under Analysis LLP in care of this paper or by e-mail at comments@levisongroup.com.