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Early in and throughout my dad’s career, he used some of his money to invest in real estate. Some are rented to employees, some he has flipped, and some have renters that don’t work for his company. When Steven and I graduated, he offered to let us live in one of them rent free as long as we covered taxes and bills.
The company my dad founded prides itself on two things: family and American built. So it was expected that Steven and I would take jobs there. Steven had worked summers in the warehouse, and as the Director of Operations came close to retirement, took Steven on as his protege. I, with my MPA, entered into accounting. This, combined with the offer of a basically free house, helped us get a great start in adulthood.
Steven and I often dreamed about our future home. We both loved old houses and wanted land. Offhandedly one day, we mentioned this to some realtor friends of our parents. It came as a surprise when, six months later, I got a call that what we wanted was about to come on the market: a four bedroom, 1800s farmhouse on 150 acres. Barns and all. And the price was unbelievable.