People

Today, Clara visits the People room.

CLARA

I first met Clara in the summer of 1978. The local home builders’ association, of which she was president, was conducting their annual Parade of Homes. This was a month-long affair highlighting some of the newest residential design and construction throughout the city and county. Full-page newspaper ads displayed color photographs of every home in the promotion. One of those homes was built by a woman named Clara East Payne. I had heard about her as she was well-known in the city, and, literally, all over the state among builders and developers. She was often garnering publicity by her projects, both real and proposed, which were usually a bit unusual.

On a Sunday afternoon I visited the home she had on display. The pictures in the newspaper could only tell part of the story. Compared to the others in the show this house was unique, a contemporary design, breaking away from the standard fare offered by the other two dozen builders. At first glance, it seemed to me that she had built something that would be difficult to sell, both because of the unique design, and the above-average sale price. My tour of the home was more like visiting an art gallery accompanied by several people curious to see this decadent display of modern architecture and expensive furnishings.  

Clara, known to many as ‘Claire,’ was stationed in the dining room greeting some of the visitors and handing business cards to those who had the nerve to stop and talk, Mostly, I was interested in the design in the wallpaper. The first words I heard from behind me were, “Please, don’t touch the walls.” It was Clara, introducing herself to me. She was an average size woman, shoulder-length, onyx black hair, heavy make-up, and a not-so-modest display of jewelry. A year later, I would know her well enough to ask about the diamond ring displayed prominently when she extended her business card to me. Her first words didn’t sound very friendly, but I looked at the card and felt forced into telling her my name and handing her my business card. She looked at the card and, in a moment, she changed into a gracious host, and began a conversation that I thought ended an hour later. In truth, she continued talking to me for the next twenty years.

The following day she called me Edward, and wanted us to talk about some designs she had in mind for a new residential development. When she came to our office, her husband, George, was with her as he always was afterwards. The first hour of our meeting we talked about personal things, almost as if we were life-long friends, not like we had just met the day before. Over the years the three of us would have many long conversations–Clara talking, George and I listening. They were inseparable; there was never a meeting without both.  

Their relationship was an interesting dichotomy. She was this very-public, constantly moving, force of nature, making million-dollar decisions every day. George was this quiet, unassuming pharmacist who had sold his very successful business to become a partner with Clara. He knew almost nothing about what she was doing, but he literally walked in Clara’s shadow, following her every step. He drove her to all her meetings, opened the car door for her, and always treated her with courtesy, and sincere respect. In my presence, he usually just listened and nodded his head, sometimes offering a bit of benign comment. Over hundreds of hours of meetings with them, I never heard him say a cross word to her, seldom disagreeing with what she had to say. And there were very few times George would express his true feelings about a given subject.

There was an occasion when he actually had a strong reaction. It was a meeting where we were reviewing some designs for their new townhome. The session stretched past the daylight hours, and nerves were growing thin. At one point George was not happy with our progress, he stood up, said he had seen enough for one day, and was going home. He laid his car keys on the table, walked out the front door and down the street. Over an hour later, when Clara left the parking lot in her car, I saw her driving for the first, and only time. Later, she told me George had walked the five miles to their home, and she got there just as he was walking into their driveway.

Among city officials, and some land developers, Clara had a ‘mixed’ reputation as either a shrewd business woman, or a sometimes-shady character. And there were a couple of times when I agreed to be used as a shadow participant in one of her projects. There was a tract of wooded land which she had owned for some time, zoned for residential lots. She had never tried to build houses there because Clara was not welcome in that neighborhood. So, she came up with a plan for me to help her sell the property without anyone knowing she was involved. Her plan was that I form a temporary development company, she would deed the property over to me for one dollar, I would get a loan from a bank using the land as collateral, and then I would get it platted and the street built. When the lots sold, I paid her a predetermined amount for each lot, and I would keep the profit, if any. The two of us had a loose, verbal agreement for the entire deal, as we trusted each other, and only the banker knew she was a participant.

One day Clara called me in a breathless hurry: She wanted me to talk to my friend, Glenn, about the possibility of his buying some property from her. She did not know Glenn, and she thought if she called him directly, he probably wouldn’t take her call. She had a reputation to maintain and she did not want him to know that she was needing $155,000 quickly for another property. She said if I could influence Glenn into buying her property, she would pay me a six percent referral fee. She stressed this was urgent and must be kept secret. I did not tell her that, by a strange coincidence earlier that day, Glenn had asked me to talk to her about the possibility of his buying that property from her. He did not know Clara, and he thought if he called her directly, she probably wouldn’t take his call. He told me he would pay $165,000 for that property. So, I told Clara his offer, she accepted, I called Glenn, told him she would sell at his price. Two days later the deal was closed–she received $155,100. Later that day she brought me a check for $9,900, and her request for strict secrecy was honored. (Note: The details of this episode are more fully explained in a post dated June 6, 2021 called Blessed Giving. I used fictious names in that post.)

One year I drew some plans for Clara to build a duplex apartment building, and she wanted it to have an ‘old timey’ look. She would use real shutters on the windows, and real stucco on the exterior walls. She was trying to cut the cost, so she had a stucco contractor install a special type of ‘stucco’ which was much thinner and cheaper than authentic stucco. A few months later she sold the duplex to an investor who soon filed a lawsuit against her, claiming the ‘stucco’ was breaking up and falling off the building. She put me on her witness list as an ‘expert’ in stucco, but, under cross examination on the witness stand, I had to tell the jury that the ‘stucco’ on her building was not normal, and the only remedy was to remove it all and replace it with actual stucco. She lost in court and had to pay several thousand dollars to settle the lawsuit. After it was all over, she never held any animosity toward me for what I said to the jury, and we continued to work together as though nothing had happened. She knew she had made a bad decision.

In the twenty years I worked with Clara and George, I don’t know what effect, if any, I may have had on them, but they respected my different lifestyle. Neither of them ever used foul language around me, or told off-color stories. They quickly observed that I didn’t use tobacco or curse words, and they just assumed there would be no alcohol at our meetings. It was interesting because I was never placed into any situation requiring a lifestyle explanation. There were a few times when they were interested to hear my opinion on a given subject from a Christian perspective. I never ‘preached’ to them about their lifestyle, or mine.   

In her last phone call, she was just wanting me to know that she had officially retired and would not be doing any more projects. Her call marked the end of a sometimes hectic, always interesting, twenty-year business friendship.

On June 13, 2021, Clara passed away at age 92. Her husband, George, survives.