BILL CHERRY'S GREATEST DALLAS PARK CITIES REAL ESTATE BLOG: December 2007

It's a spectacular afternoon in the park this Sunday.  The Dallas sky is a clear almost New Mexico sort of blue, and it's a dry forty-eight degrees.  Church bells are chiming in the distance.

Thanks for stopping by for our weekly visit. 

This year it became apparent to me that those who do not celebrate Christmas and are offended that anyone else does, are winning their hopes that it will eventually be erased from their view.

For years it was a tradition for most if not all situation comedies and variety shows to script and produce a Christmas show. 

The tradition began in radio and followed the audience into television programming.  And interestingly, many of the stars of those programs were not Christians.   

This year, while there may have been some, Patty and I didn't find one of the current sitcoms with a Christmas script.

One of the most famous of the radio programs, "Amos ‘n Andy." did a broadcast in 1940 that became an annual tradition, a tradition that followed the program into TV.  And it was performed word for word every year until 1954. 

Here's the serious part of the script that Americans heard.

Amos' daughter Arbadella: What does the Lord's Prayer mean, Daddy?

Amos: Well, it means an awful lot. And with the world like it is now, darlin', it seems to have a bigger meaning than ever before.

Now you lie down and listen. The first line of the Lord's Prayer is this, "Our Father, which art in Heaven." That means, Father of all that is good where no wrong can dwell.

And the next line is, "Hallowed be thy name." That means, darlin', that we should love and respect all that is good.

"Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, in Earth as it is in Heaven." That means darlin' as we clean our hearts of all hate and selfishness and fill our hearts with love, the good the true and the beautiful, then this earth will be exactly like Heaven.

Arbadella: Oh, that would be wonderful, Daddy.

Amos: Then it says, "Give us this day our daily bread." Now that means to feed our hearts with kindness, love and courage, which will make us strong for our daily tasks.

And then it says, "And forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors"' Do you remember the Golden Rule?

Arbadella: Oh, yes, sir.

Amos: Well, that means we must keep the Golden Rule and do unto others as we would want them to do unto us.

And then it says, "And Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." That means, my darlin,' to ask God to help us do and see and think right so that we will neither be led or tempted by anything that is bad."

Arbadella: Uh, huh.

Amos: And then it says, "For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory forever. Amen." That means, darlin,' that all of the world and everything that's in it belongs to God's kingdom. Everything. Mommy, your daddy, your little brother, your grandma, you and everybody. And as we know that, and act as if we know that, my darlin' - that is the real spirit of Christmas."

So my question, for those of you who find the mention and celebration of Christmas offensive, how could anything but good have come from this "Amos n' Andy" program?

Happy New Year!  I hope you'll drop by for a visit next Sunday.

GOD Blesses!

Bill Cherry, Realtors

Dallas Real Estate

Highland Park

Bill in the Park Pen and Ink Drawing by Galveston Artist Carlotta Barker

            In the first of this three part series, we noted that those of us with an interest in the history and the workings of the U.S. economy have found an interesting paradox brewing in the wings.  Here's a summary.

            In October, 1907, a bank-owner named F.A. Heinze made a major speculation in the stock market, and it failed.  When the news got it, it caused a run on his bank by depositors who were worried that his financial problems may end up being theirs as well.

             It's known as the Panic of 1907.

            In Part One of this series, we related the story of how financier J.P. Morgan dreamed up and promoted a plan that quickly solved the Panic of 1907, and how it now looks as though U.S. Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson is trying a Morgan-esque scenario to resolve the latest panic, the one 100-years later that's being caused by the sub-prime loan meltdown.

             Sub-prime loans are hybrid instruments.  The format was not only dreamed up for the first time in recent years, but the loans were issued and sold in startling numbers, especially when you consider there was no experience history.  And to the naked eye, they looked like a formula for trouble.

            The problem we are now facing is that a huge number of the sub-prime mortgage loans were not only made to people whose credit and assets would not normally sustain the loan approval of a lender, but the loans were made with so-called teaser rates.

            Teaser rates are interest rates that start out artificially below the market, but within a short time become significantly higher, leaving to question, will the borrower be able to pay the new, adjusted payment amount when it occurs?

            In 2008, more than $350,000,000,000 (that's three hundred, fifty billion) of sub-prime loans will adjust to the higher rate.  And that means that several hundred thousand borrowers will see their mortgage payments rise by hundreds of dollars a month.

            Left as they are, most of the sub-prime borrowers won't be able to salvage their homes.  Refinancing will bring no relief, even if it is available to them, because the current rates are similar to the rates their sub-prime loan is scheduled to adjust to.

            And because there are so many of them scrambling on top of a housing market that cheap money drove to become overbuilt, we are seeing sharp declines in home prices, and that will continue for awhile.  So they won't be able to sell them for what they owe on them. much less when commissions and closing costs are added.

            So Secretary Paulson's idea sets up a system that puts these sub-prime borrowers into three categories:  those whose credit confirms that they will be able to sustain the higher monthly payments when the rates reset; those who can continue to pay the current teaser payment, but won't be able to when the rates adjust to the higher amount; and finally, those who can't afford the teaser payment amount much less the planned adjusted rate.

            Only those in the second group can expect help, and that's only if their sub-prime loan rate is set to rise on or after January 1, 2008.

            The Paulson plan is quite simple.  It will give those borrowers (the ones in the second group) five years more at the teaser rate with the hopes that by then the housing market will have recovered so that those borrowers will be able to squirm out of the obligations.

            The question many professionals as well as the man on the street asks is why did the lenders need Secretary Paulson to come up with what is such an obvious plan?   After all, lenders know that their chances of losing money is far less when they renegotiate a workable plan with an in-trouble borrower than it is when they foreclosed the borrower's house.  And the guy on the street has reasoned this out himself.

            Here are the three most important ones:

• There are so many of these loans that are in trouble that the companies servicing them don't have the personnel resources to work them on a case by case basis.

• Unlike what most think, the majority of the sub-prime loans are collateral that's backing securities that were sold to investors - individuals, partnerships, trusts and companies - and many of those are domiciled outside of the U.S.  Finding which of them is holding a particular loan would be a nightmare.

• And finally, and of utmost importance, banks working together without the umbrella of the government would bring lawsuit after lawsuit charging collusion, and collusion is illegal.

            In the final part of this three part series, that will be here tomorrow for you to read, I'll tell you what I've concluded and why.

Copyright 2007 - William S. Cherry

All rights reserved

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!

            Students of U.S. economics have zeroed in on an interesting paradox.  I'm one of them who has.

            (This will be a three part series offering the facts and my personal analysis of what we can expect the outcome to be.)

            It was in October, 1907, that the U.S. financial system was within moments of collapse, and there was no mechanism in the wings to resolve the issues other than some weak "Scotch tape it together" ideas that the Treasury Department had.

            This all started because a guy named F.A. Heinze had done some rather significant speculation in the stock market and he'd lost his shirt.  The problem was that Heinze was a bank owner.

            Depositors in his bank as well as the banks that did business with his bank were unsure what this was going to mean to them.  Was money Heinze had used for his stock market speculations money he had borrowed from his own bank?  If it was and he couldn't pay it back, would that mean that his bank would collapse and the depositors would lose their savings?

           Well, J.P. Morgan was a well respected financier, and he knew that the only thing the Treasury Department could do was to move treasury deposits to the weak banks with the hopes that the banks would then be able to cover depositor withdrawals until the run on the banks was over, and confidence had been rebuilt.

            Morgan unilaterally took matters into his hands.  He talked - quite frankly, pressured -- solvent banks into bailing out their brother and sister banks by funneling money to them so that they could cover withdrawals.  And he even made it clear to ministers that they'd best start preaching sermons aimed at restoring confidence.

            It didn't take but a month or so for Morgan's plan to restore confidence in the system, and what is called the Panic of 1907 was short-lived with only Heinze being a loser of significance.

            One hundred years later, there is a new crisis.  Again investors have speculated where they shouldn't have - in sub-prime loans.  Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson is trying his hand at putting into place a J.P. Morgan scenario with the hopes that his will be as successful as Morgan's was a hundred years ago.

            Will it be?  I'll offer some thoughts on that tomorrow. Part 2

Copyright 2007-William S. Cherry - All Rights Reserved

Part 2 - HOW THIS TRANSLATES TO A PROBLEM THAT HAS NO CLEAR SOLUTION.  Tomorrow's Post           

Bill Cherry's Bio

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Recently I told of encounters with two friends who, although well past 80, are easily keeping up with, if not ahead of, most people one-half their ages. (Bob and Jane)

Frank Jewett, an ActiveRainer who teaches computer technology to real estate professionals in San Jose, California, read the piece and made a profound observation.

"We need to come up with a new term to replace ‘retirement.'  We need a term that captures a continuing sense of purpose and activity for folks who aren't striving to achieve their own obsolescence. 

"How about ‘independent,' as in ‘saving up for your independence.'"

FRANK JEWETT

Dallas Senior Citizens

The Money Doctor

The Sunday morning before Thanksgiving I noticed I was getting That Feeling in my throat.  It's the one I always try to intellectually overcome by reasoning it will go away.

But it never does, and by Thanksgiving I had a full-blown case of the crud.

Now I'm not hot on going to doctors unless it's a last resort, and that's primarily because they've changed their methodology since I was a child.  Not only do they no longer make house calls, or send something out when you explain by telephone how you feel, but they insist on extensive lab and diagnostic work that has nothing to do with why you have called for their services.

Patty insisted that she call Our Doctor.  He agreed to provide a prescription for a non-narcotic cough suppressant that they like to call Pearls.  The things look like round vitamin E capsules.  But Our Doctor wasn't going to do anything more unless I came in for the extensive series of tests.  I took the Pearls.  They didn't work any better this time than they had the zillion other times they had been prescribed for me, with or without the office visit and the extensive tests.

The Saturday before Christmas I had gotten worse.  Our Doctor had taken off for the holidays.  So I went to a Doc in the Box clinic here in Dallas called Prima Care on Mockingbird at Abrams.  There were rows and rows of coughing people in the waiting room, a few with splinters in their hands, one who thought her blood pressure was too high, and on and on.

When my turn came, my doctor was Dr. Robert Speegle.  He's 84-years old, graduated from University of Texas Medical Branch in 1951, is a Fellow in the American College of Family Practice and Board Certified in Ambulatory Care.  Dr. Speegle works a full-day, every day seeing patients at his clinic because that's what he likes doing almost as much as he likes hunting.

Dr. Speegle is also an award-winning big game hunter and continues the sport today.  You can read about his hunting conquests on the Internet.

Within less than five minutes, Dr. Speegle had examined me, told me precisely what was wrong with me, told me what medicines wouldn't work to cure me, and sent me out with a loan prescription.  "You'll be 100% better tomorrow, and you'll feel good enough to enjoy Christmas on Tuesday.  Follow my instructions precisely and without any deviation."

And you know what?  This guy delivered on his promises.  I was back among the living the following morning, and by Christmas I was ready to celebrate with our family.  He doesn't know it, but he's my new doctor.

I also want to take a moment to tell you that I've found my Cub Scout den mother. We're talking about my den mother in 1950!

She moved to Dallas from Galveston some years before her husband passed away.  Turns out, that like we did in Galveston, we go to the same church in Dallas.  And that's where we saw each other.

She has just celebrated her 92-birthday.  And, like Dr. Speegle, she's still blowing and going.  Her name is Jane Bickel, and this picture of her is exactly like she looks.  I promise.  And her mind is still New York Times Crossword Puzzle Solving Material.

My story has only one purpose.  It's to be a microcosmic celebration of the lives of my friends Robert and Jane.  Two people who continue to make enormous contributions to the lives of others.  Two people whose take on life I hope will be mine when I'm their age.

BILL CHERRY REALTORS

BILL CHERRY

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BILL CHERRY, REALTORS          DALLAS        214 503-8563

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I may have told you this story before.  It's one that Christie "The Beachcomber" Mitchell told me long ago. It happened one Christmas Eve about 10 years after the war.

<==Big Band Leader Buddy Kirk with The Beachcomber

There was a fellow from a good Catholic family who had two talents. One was shoplifting and the other was picking pockets. The downtown merchants referred to him as Gonif, a Yiddish word that means "thief." The night people called him as Ducky Wucky. Now I can't exactly lay my hands on one distinguishing feature that made him resemble a duck, but there was no doubt. The guy looked like a duck.

A lot of people made their living off the streets back then. People like dirty little unshaven Pee Wee, who sold yesterday's newspapers, and Crazy Frank, who made believe he was photographing you and your car for some secret police agency when you passed him by, and Dirty Gertie, the Galveston Tribune vendor who sat on a canvas stool in front of the Peacock Café, and Yaga Man, the black fellow with the big toothy grin who would yell "yaga" if you didn't flip him a dime when you passed him by. All were harmless.

It was cold and damp and it had been all that pre-Christmas week. Ducky knew he'd be at midnight Mass with his family on Christmas Eve. It would make God, his mom and Fr. Dan happy, and it would be profitable because he'd bump into old friends on the way to the communion rail, and by the time he'd get back to the pew, he'd be a few watches and wallets richer. But what about Pee Wee, Crazy Frank, Dirty Gertie, Yaga Man and the others?

Miss Jesse was one of the island's best madams, and she had a big brick house out west on Avenue O ½. Every year she'd hang strands of Christmas lights all over it, and she'd put up a huge Christmas tree in the front yard. Cops, cab drivers, bellboys, waiters and waitresses who had helped Miss Jesse's business during the past year, would drive by on Christmas Eve night, look under the big tree, and find the present from Roulet's Liquor that Santa Claus had left especially for them.

So that year, during the days just before Christmas, Ducky went through the downtown dime stores, Levy's, Nathan's and the ABC Racket Store in his big overcoat with the concealed pockets. He picked up rings, watches and wallets as he bumped into the Christmas shoppers, and he stuffed the big pockets full with this and that from the stores' counters. He took it to his room and wrapped each in Christmas paper and then put name tags on them. Christmas Eve afternoon, he took a cab out to Miss Jesse's and put the packages under the big tree in her yard, then he went to the Metropole Club.

He knew Arthur Clardy would be there for his after work toddy. Clardy ran a forwarding company, and one of the things his company did was move bailed cotton from the sheds to the wharves on trains of flat wagons pulled by farm tractors. Ducky profusely shook Clardy's hand wishing him and his family a Merry Christmas. All the while Ducky was picking Clardy's car and office keys from his pocket.

Ducky had a 7-Crown and Coke, kibitzed with Sherwood Brown, Dorothy Graham and George Bushong, then he nonchalantly left. The door of the club had barely closed before Ducky was swiping Clardy's car and was on his way to the sheds where the tractors and cotton trailers were stored. When he got there he had good fortune. On a table in the shed was a Santa Claus suit that had been used in the downtown Christmas parade.

Ducky grinned as he put on the suit, cap and beard. Then he fired up one of the tractors and hooked it up to a couple of the flatbed trailers. He drove downtown where he picked up Crazy Frank, Pee Wee, Yaga Man, Dirty Gertie and the others. As they rode down the Seawall on the flatbed trailers toward Miss Jesse's, Santa led them in carols. He parked in front. Everybody got off and Santa led them to the tree, saying "Ho, ho, ho," over and over again, as authentically as he could, the ever present Old Gold drooping from the left side of his lips.

As Santa passed out the presents from under the tree in Miss Jesse's yard, the cops, taxi drivers, bellmen, waiters and waitresses started stopped by to get theirs, too. Not one of them saw anything strange about Ducky Wucky being dressed as Santa and his elves being Pee Wee, Crazy Frank, Dirty Gertie and the others. After all, this was Christmas Eve on Galveston Island.

Copyright 2004 - William S. Cherry

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Thanks for visiting with me this Sunday in the Park.  With Christmas two days away, as we sit here together, I can't help but be appreciative that my mom and dad made certain that as a family our religious beliefs and our church were stable parts of our life together.

You know, for Christians, Christmastime is primarily one-half of a story of thanksgiving, with the other half coming about four months later at Easter. 

And I've found that with each year that passes, this thanksgiving becomes more and more profound to me.

My thanksgivings - as I think about them one by one - always find their way to a certain group of friends.  These are friends I have had for my entire life.  And we remain a close-knit support group.

First and foremost, there's Butch (Walter A., III) Kelso.  Fate made us both neighbors and first friends, and we've been close friends and buddies ever since.  Make that sixty-three years.  That's Butch on the left and me on the right.

And then there's this group of buddies.  While each of us developed different professional and social interests as time passed, let one of us experience one of life's milestones, whether good or bad, and the others rally to the occasion.  It's been that way for more than fifty years.

I often wonder if even our parents, much less our teachers and neighbors, had a clue that we would turn out as well as we did. 

In this picture, the first fellow is E. Douglas McLeod.  He's been a teacher, on the school board, the city council and a member of the state legislature.  He was even a real estate broker for a few years.

After all of that, he went to law school and got his law degree as well as a master's in law.

He's one of the honchos at the billion dollar asset based Moody Foundation.

Next is Dr. Ward McReynolds, a well-known Houston psychiatrist.

Next is me, Bill Cherry, real estate broker, broadcaster, writer and musician.

That's Jasper (J.E.) Tramonte on my left.  With a master's degree in business, he went all over the country in his younger years, resolving and installing computer programs for major insurance companies and hospitals.  And then he decided to become a commercial real estate broker in Houston, a profession he's excelled in for at least twenty-five years.  (I claim I taught him everything he knows about real estate.  He claims I have a lose screw if I believe that.)

Next is Victor J. Damiani.  He has always been the father figure of our group.  A year or so older than the rest of us, Victor always had the good sense to steer us in the right direction.  He's to us what Fonzie is to the "Happy Days" show.  Victor spent many years as a life insurance company policy underwriter for American National Insurance Co.  He's now retired.  I wrote about Victor's influence in my book, Bill Cherry's Galveston Memories.

So my prayer today as we sit here in the park together, is that each of you has the blessings of a life-long support group like ours.  They are a precious gift.

Merry Christmas to all, and I look forward to seeing you again next Sunday in the Park.

GOD Blesses!

Pen and Ink Drawing of Bill in the Park by Galveston artist Carlotta Barker

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