The Auction

By Katerina Valdivieso

“Then, we’ll open at $415,000. Any one gives anything else?” said Judge Betsy Barros to nearly 40 bidders. The house on 437 Waverly was been auctioned in the judge’s chambers, in Brooklyn’s Supreme Court.

For a decade the house had been vacant. Had it had eyes, it would have been passively watching itself aging, lonely and forgotten. The roof has deteriorated and the back wall needs repair. It is investors who had eyes, however, and beyond the shabby parts they saw a tremendous real estate opportunity: a three-story house with a solid infrastructure in an upcoming neighborhood, Clinton Hill.

Before it was empty, a family lived in the house for 80 years. Until the day of the auction, the house belonged to one heiress, Ms. Evelyn Grace Ferry, and she was ready to pass on the house to a new owner. Ms. Evelyn G. Ferry’s family never recorded the title deed, according to Brownstoner.com, so the house was unable to be sold for a decade.

“Let me just explain to you the practice of this. The proceedings,” said the judge. “The owner is not here. And she is what we call an incapacitated person, so we are doing this for her.” The judge didn’t give details of why the elderly heiress was incapacitated. What the judge did say to those in attendance was that whatever sum was obtained from the auction would go to Ms. Ferry’s personal care.

The courtroom was full. Most of those in attendance were men, with a few couples, all in their late 30s or 40s.

“It was a pleasure showing it,” said Susan Durango when she was called to testify on stage, before the auction began. Durango is the broker who showed the house when it was on the market. She said that it had been appraised at $450,000. “It’s a very competitive price. I did five showings a day,” said Durango referring to the four-week period she had the house on the market. “We usually don’t have this tremendous response.”

And so the auction began.

After Durango’s testimony, Judge Barros read little pieces of papers she had in her hands. Each one of the attendees had written their opening bid in these scratch papers the judge was reading.

“I’m going to start with the two highest bids I have here. Mr. David Heck. And a couple, Mr. David Bradley and Jessica Lynn.”

“Mr. Heck. Mr. Bradley and Mrs. Lynn.” The judge looked around her courtroom to identify them. All three raised their hands.

“Then we’ll open at $415,000. Any one gives anything else?”

And so the battle began.

Mr. Bradley raised $5,000.

“Cash,” he said. The courtroom was silent for a few moments.

“Mr. Heck?” said Barros.

A couple of seconds later, Heck said 440.

Bradley and Lynn murmured in each other’s ears.

“$441. Cash.”

This time everyone in the room broke into laughter that soon turned into moderate giggles.

“Please!” said Barros, “we need to raise it more than a thousand per bid.”

Then Heck raised it to $446,000.

But fifteen minutes in, a third player joined the group, and the auction started to get interesting. Pat Wetsell raised his hand and said: “$450. Pre-approved and can close within 14 days.”

Heck wasn’t expecting this contender. Bradley and Lynn didn’t raise their hands again. They were clearly out.

It was only Heck and Wetsell.

Wetsell raised by $ 5,000. And then Heck. Then Wetsell, again. Five thousand each time they raised their hands.

It went on for 10 minutes. Raising hands for 10 minutes seemed like a long time. Meanwhile, more money was thrown into the bid.

“Heck, 480.”

“Wetsell, 485.”

“Heck, 490.”

“Wetsell, 495.”

Long pauses of silence appeared between bids. Longer pauses each time. The room was filled with tension. Only two bidders, but the whole room was growing anxious.

It had to end. And finally, it did. “Going once… Twice…” and the judge hit her gavel. “It’s sold to Mr. Heck for $540,000.”

Silence was interrupted by loud sighs. Bradley and Lynn and Wetsell went to congratulate Heck. They chatted and exchanged ideas about the house for a few minutes. Then Heck said: “Excuse me, I have to call my wife.”

Heck, still in the courtroom, walked a few steps away from the crowd. “Love, it’s ours,” he said.