Elmo and Melitta Marquette
Elmo and Melitta Marquette, on the front porch of their 1923 home in SW Portland.
(Steve Duin)
When Trish Brazil discovered last May what had happened to Elmo and Meliitta Marquette on Southwest Garden Home Road, the Portland realtor called Heidi Gamelgaard at Fidelity National Title.
The escrow officer. By law, the "disinterested, neutral third party" in the room at closing.
Brazil was stunned by the sales price -- one-tenth of the listed real-market value: "I specifically said, 'Didn't it seem strange that two acres were being sold for $22,000?"
How did Gamelgaard respond? According to Brazil -- and Gamelgaard denies this -- the escrow officer said, "Trish, it was landlocked."
"When she said that, Brazil continues, "I said, 'No, it's not, Heidi. I'm looking at the statutory warranty deed.'
"And I remember her silence."
From the very start, Gamelgaard's silence has puzzled me.
Yes, the escrow officer is the signature gatherer in these transactions, not the referee. "They have an obligation to act as a neutral third party," says Dean Owens, deputy commissioner at the Oregon Real Estate Agency. "It's not to pass judgment on whether you think this is a good deal or a bad deal. They're not experts in real estate and they're not experts in land appraisal."
I also understand that reporting cases of elder financial abuse does not come naturally for title companies. The state's Office of Adult Abuse Preventions and Investigations received 3,400 complaints involving
in 2013, and policy analyst Rebecca Fetters recalls few if any from escrow officers.
"I don't know why they feel they can't reach out and make those calls," Fetters says. "A lot of other professions that aren't mandatory reporters chose to do so anyway."
But the November 2013 purchase of the Marquettes' two acres by Michael Leland and Sandra Bittler raised a number of red flags beyond the jaw-dropping sales price.
The Marquettes -- Elmo is 86, Meliitta 88 -- had no one looking out for their best interest. They were bickering enough over the $22,000 figure during the first attempt at closing that Gamelgaard left their home.
The history of the easement -- which is not mentioned in the earnest money agreement -- is complicated, and Elmo insists now he didn't know it was part of the deal. Although the Marquettes and the buyers both maintain there was an agreement not to develop the property while Elmo and Meliitta were still alive, that agreement is found nowhere in the closing papers.
Each of these elements worked to the buyers' advantage. None, apparently, gave Gamelgaard pause, or cause to speak up.
Is that because Bittler selected her to handle escrow, as Bittler has so many times before? Is that because Gamelgaard understood Bittler was in charge, given that it was Bittler, and not Elmo or Meliitta, who called her back to the house for the second closing?
Or is that because escrow officers are paid not to ask the tough questions?
As I noted earlier, Gamelgaard denies talking to Brazil about "details of the sale ... or any other factor that would have affected the price," but otherwise referred all comment to Pat Ihnat, Fidelity's attorney.
And Ihnat insists Gamelgaard performed admirably, carefully walking Elmo and Meliitta through the deal to ensure they were "willing and competent.
"When parties clearly understand what is being presented and signed in a closing appointment," Ihnat says, "escrow officers don't question the structure of the deal or the terms."
In the last two weeks, countless real-estate pros have described the relationship between escrow officers and realtors as the industry's "dirty little secret." Realtors aim for smooth closings, not awkward questions.
"It's not dirty, nor is it a secret," Ihnat says. "All professional relationships are built on professionalism and experience. It does not mean anyone will step outside their role as an escrow officer for repeat business.
"How many transactions have been directed to Heidi by Sandra Bittler? Would I say there have been several or many? Yes. Any real-estate professional will tell you they have a closer or two they prefer to work with."
Thanks to aggressive lobbying at the Legislature, real-estate professionals -- unlike, say, firefighters, marriage counselors and speech pathologists -- are not mandatory reporters of elder abuse.
But as Ihnat described the November closing, Gamelgaard saw nothing at the Marquettes' house that set off alarms: "She said, 'When I went into the house with Sandy, her kids were playing video games. It was obvious they (Bittler and the Marquettes) were friendly."
So, Gamelgaard closed the deal. "There's an art to spending an hour with someone, to make sure they're willing and competent," Ihnat says, "and it's a burden we place on a closer."
Further obligations? "We're not evaluating elder abuse and financial abuse in that period of time," Ihnat says. "We don't dig, and we're not supposed to.
"If the regulations require something, we comply with all laws and regulations."
That benefits just about everyone in the room, I suppose, except elderly couples like Elmo and Meliitta. Dean Owens frames the issue for escrow officers rather well:
"There are two pieces of the puzzle: what the law requires them to do and how they feel morally about what they're doing. We don't regulate morals."
-- Steve Duin