As the title says, I'm new and starting remote rental investing. I would like to not just learn the BRRRR method, but be successful at it. I will be lurking the forums looking for answers and a sense of direction for the questions that I have. Those range from LLC structures to general contractor contacts and bids.
Currently, I am debt free and own my home outright. A wife and two kids affect men differently.
The really long introduction: My life could be filed under "How the hell is this dude alive and still kinda sane". The following is just a snippet which hopeful answers that question. As with most stories, theses events are completely true with very little exaggeration.
Growing up, we lived in cheap rentals like this one 28066 Main St, Hallwood, VA 23359 and 28066 Main St, Hallwood, VA 23359. The first looks a little overgrown and the second one is missing the huge front porch but for a few years in the mid 80's they were home.
I think the first place made the biggest impact. It didn't really have a bathroom. It had a washroom. For those that are unfamiliar, its just an empty room that has a wash tub that people would sit in with a pitcher of warm water and bath yourself. No plumbing, meaning no toilet. That amenity was to be found outside. If you look up the address on google maps, you can still see it on the right side of the garage. Spiders, no lights, and the smell. So the landlord had a solution. Yeah, it was great. Install one clawfoot tub (today people only dream of these), run garden hose under the house from the hot/cold water line in the kitchen to the tub. Drainage? Fixed! Add 1 PVC pipe and let 'er loose into the crawlspace. Easy peasy. Yet we still needed a toilet. $15 dollars later, that too was fixed. Now, before anyone jumps to conclusions, no it didn't drain under the house. The waste found it's way to the outhouse via the efforts of one 12 year old kid. So the solution was a camping porta potti, like the Thetford. Google it if you need to. It's a wonder I don't have hepatitis.
Another fascinating feature of this particular house was that it didn't have a Siegler type oil burning heaters that I was familiar with (these usually sit in the center of the house). A kerosene heater in the living room took the chill of those VA winter mornings. So our central heating was found literally in the center of the house.
If you were hot, you either sat under the tree in the back yard, went to a friends house, explored the woods and at night you would turn on the box fan and opened a window. Now these windows weren't your typical windows. They had counter weights to keep them up, and most of the ropes that were connected to the counter weights had rotted and failed, so the windows usually had a stick or a book holding them open. First class all the way. Out of curiosity, has anyone seen really old glass? How they deform and get really thin at the top? I learned that caulk and paint will fix any gap in a window.
Speaking of unwanted airflow, my insulation education was top notch, just cover every window casing in its entirety with plastic sheeting. Not only does it stop the heat from escaping your house, but you'll be amazed at how entertaining or frightening the sounds are to kids when the wind blows.
All that luxury for $100/month. Single mom budgets have to stretch.
Growing up, these were the types of homes that I had grown accustomed to and every time I visited my grandparents, I was simply amazed how the box on the wall could light the heater and why they didn't need a stick to keep the windows open. In my mind that was easy street life, "rich" even. I guess it's all in someone's life experiences and perception.
So, let's fast forward a little bit. At 16, I was given the opportunity to live with my grandparents in Boynton Beach FL and left the Eastern Shore of VA. My grandfather was a good dad to me. He instilled a work ethic into me. A sense of pride of who I was in spite of "what/where" I was from. Cue tears. He was the son of a sharecropper. Dropped out of school in the 6th grade, due to the fact that he was partially deaf, not "slow" as perceived by the school. Climbed his way to upper middle class through sheers hard work and will power. A wife and four kids affect men differently. Some choose to maintain. A special few thrive. This man thrived. Started a small business in gas station maintenance and for a few years he was solidly in upper middle class. Not too shabby for a man that people thought wouldn't amount to much more than a charity case. Though life has a way to test your resolve. And this man was tested. His success was was the beginning of his downfall. He found that he couldn't price himself out of work and he couldn't hire and train people fast enough. That stress, plus trying have a home life comes at a cost. The breaking point came when he had to take care of his parents, whose mental and physical health was deteriorating. At one he had three homes in the same neighborhood. Primary was his own, the second was the one he bought his parents, and the third was the one he moved everyone in when dementia tore through his parents souls. I guess a nervous breakdown is life's way of saying you should blow out one end of the candle. He sold his business, sold two of the homes for barely what he paid (one of which put him on a "hit list" because of racism), put his parents into a retirement home, and went to work for his competition, for which he was paid well, but not that well. After his parents passed, and dealing with the typical drama, he went on vacation to Florida. Funny thing, that well deserved vacation was cut short two days into it because he was given an offer to work for a contractor in South Florida that he couldn't refuse. Some people think others have all the luck in the world while others know that a lot of luck is actually blood/sweat/tears. Yep, a real life Jed Clampett moment. "Pack the kids maw, there's money in them thar Florida beaches". During these good times, he learned to SCUBA dive, which he missed more and more in his later life, and even helped teach classes. On top of that, the "slow" kid in school went to flight school. The instructor was courteous enough to give the written part of exams orally and made a cheat sheet for filling out flight plans. So far so good, right? I guess a herniated disk is life's way of saying one man shouldn't try to live three lifetimes. I guess his response was "I ain't done, watch". Investment property? Check. Buy, sell the timber and add a hog farm. Time to flip. Buy a small engine repair shop. Build it with work ethic and hiring someone better than you are in mechanicing doesn't hurt. Sell that enterprise. Travel a bit in an Airstream and fish Florida lakes. Buy some raw land, build a house, sit awhile and sell that too. Now retire to Florida for good? Kinda. Drive from Boynton Beach FL to Pocomoke MD and grab your daughters son before he turns into a punk and drive back, in one shot (google map it, one way 15-16 hour drive). Teach that little snot the raw skills that got you through life and hope for the best when he moves out.
Since then I've:
eaten out of dumpsters
been in the Marines
been homeless
walked 8 miles to wash dishes
learned what having nothing really means
That stopped when I was given the news to expect my first child. For her entire life, she's never experienced what I did. I given her that "rich" life.
A wife and two kids affect men differently.
