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A River Ran Through It
I should have known that a river ran through it.
I should have known that a river ran through it. Even from the main road leading into the property, the roar of water moving rapidly had entered my consciousness. The Pacific Ocean was less than a kilometer to the west, but oceans make a very different sound and have their own unique rhythm. This was definitely a river, or perhaps a creek that was very close by.
It was March of 1986 and once again I’d accepted an appraisal assignment in Santa Barbara. At that time I was living in Chatsworth, a section of the San Fernando Valley about an hour north of Los Angeles. I longed to move away and make my life elsewhere but had no idea how or if this would ever happen.
Classroom teaching was my primary source of income back then. I was also in real estate, working for myself as a broker who took listings and made some sales of residential properties in the northwestern part of Los Angeles County. On Saturdays I had been taking a class in real estate appraisal at Glendale City College. It was only taught during the fall semester and I wanted to do it this year, so I signed up. I had hopes of connecting with someone who was already in the business and would give me a chance to earn some money as a residential appraiser even though I was brand new.
