Elmo and Melitta Marquette

Elmo and Melitta Marquette, on the front porch of their 1923 home in SW Portland.

(Steve Duin)

Update: The Oregon Real Estate Agency reprimanded the real-estate license of Sandra Bittler, the Realtor who bought the Garden Home property.

Update: Oregon First terminates Sandra Bittler, Realtor who bought Elmo and Meliitta's Garden Home property

Last November, a two-acre parcel in Southwest Portland sold for $22,000, one-tenth of what Multnomah County considers its real-market value.

Looking downhill at the edge of the disputed property.

And as I revisit that transaction -- and the two couples at the heart of it -- I want you to reflect on whether something went wrong here ... or whether this story is simply further proof that America is the land of opportunity.

Elmo and Meliitta Marquette have lived in their 1923 house on Southwest Garden Home Road for more than 30 years. He was a long-time plumber; Meliitta spend three decades with Veterans Affairs.

They lean on their next-door neighbor, Donna Lee Holmes, now and then, to pick up the new cable boxes, turn off the hazard lights in the new Jeep, and to explain where to file those "free" checks that arrive in the mail.

But given their ages -- Elmo is 86, Meliitta 88 -- they are admirably self-sufficient. Elmo is often walking the neighborhood and feeding the birds. Meliitta maintains the checkbook, even though she only enters the check amount, not the running balance.

At some point in time, the Marquettes spoke to their neighbors -- Michael Leland and Sandra Bittler -- about selling the two-acre meadow just down the hill and abutting both their properties.

Leland is the president of Mortgage Trust, a Portland lender. Bittler, his wife, is a principal real-estate broker at Oregon First.

"When we first moved in, seven-plus years ago, we saw they had a bunch of land, and we said, 'If you're ever thinking of selling, let us know,'" Leland said.

"Elmo knocked on the door one day and said they were interested in selling. He threw a number out, and we went from there."

That number, according to the sales agreement for the 2.02 acres and the essential easement, was $22,000.

"I didn't read it carefully. I should have, but I didn't. I thought it was $220,000," Meliitta insisted last week. "He (Elmo) got all that mixed up. When you get older, it's easy to do."

Why $220,000? Most likely because the real-market value on the Marquettes' 2013 property-tax statement is $220,400. The assessed value is $108,360.

In November, an escrow officer from Fidelity National Title arrived at the Marquettes' home for closing.

As Pat Ihnat, counsel for the title company, reminds us, escrow officers are neutral, dispassionate notaries in these transactions: "We not only don't get involved, we can't get involved. If anyone on the escrow side questions the wisdom of the deal or how the purchase price was set, we're violating our obligation of neutrality."

That's precisely why, Ihnat adds, "I can't express strongly enough that people talk to a real-estate broker or another adviser before engaging in a contract like this and setting value on their own."

Elmo and Meliitta were not armed with that advocate.

At some point during signing, Ihnat says, Meliitta complained to her husband that they weren't getting enough money for the property. The escrow officer departed. Within 48 hours, however, Bittler called her back, telling her the disagreement had been resolved.

"All my discussions were with Elmo," Bittler says. "He said, 'I've talked to her. We understand it's what best for our family.' I didn't think it was my place to push it any farther."

Elmo and Meliitta signed the papers on Nov. 12. The $22,000 was transferred electronically to their bank account.

"They were not represented by an attorney," Leland says. "I do feel comfortable they understood the sales price. Is it worth more than $20,000? Absolutely. We said, 'It's worth a heck of a lot more than that.' (But) their main goal was accomplished. Nothing is going to get built on that property while they are alive."

When I reminded Leland that he and his wife are veterans of these transactions and the Marquettes -- Elmo is 86, Meliitta 88 -- are not, he said, "How old is too old? It wasn't as if someone was holding a gun to Melitta's head."

Donna Lee Holmes, sorting marigold seeds on her back deck, checks in on Elmo and Melitta on a daily basis.

In April, Holmes -- concerned about the sale of the easement -- and her Realtor, Trish Brazil, examined the transaction. Elmo finally checked his bank statements, Holmes says, and saw the $22,000 figure. And Holmes and Brazil convinced Elmo and Meliitta to sit down with David Shaw, a Portland attorney with an extensive background in real estate.

Whatever you think of the deal, Shaw concluded, "The Marquettes weren't sophisticated enough to evaluate the value of the property or to hire an agent to represent them.

"I am very comfortable in saying they believed they sold (the two acres) for $220,000."

Shaw encouraged Elmo and Meliitta to challenge their neighbors in court. They elected not to.

"I guess we decided we'd just be paying lawyers and that would eat up all the profits," Meliitta tells me. "So, what the heck."

"I guess I sold it a little cheap," adds Elmo, who is a little stubborn and a little embarrassed. "So, it's gone. I don't have to mow it any more."

"At this late stage in their life, they don't want to make the neighbors upset," Brazil says. "Someone needs to be upset. I guess it's me."

Leland doesn't understand that. No, he can't explain the enduring confusion over the purchase price: "On two separate occasions, they had a chance to say this price was inaccurate if that's what they were truly feeling. It's not like we were sneaking something by these people."

OK. But when we factor in the Marquettes' age, the systemic problem of elderly abuse in financial transactions, the jaw-dropping disparity in value, Leland's and Bittler's extensive experience in the art of these deals, and their affection for their neighbors, wouldn't everyone have been better served if the real-estate professionals here insisted Elmo and Meliitta have outside counsel every step of the way?

"I guess in hindsight that would have been the smart thing to do," Leland says.

-- Steve Duin

(This post has been edited to correct the spelling of Meliitta Marquette's first name.)