Real Estate’s Getting Real

By Jim Hagarty
2011

A farmer in Perth County, Ontario, Canada, sold 335 acres of prime farmland divided into three farms in the late 1970s for just under $300,000, a pretty good figure at the time.

According to a recent story on land values in our local newspaper, that farmer today, if he could get top dollar, would walk away with a cheque with the figure $4,690,000 written on it. If that farmer were still around to read about this, he would probably be crying big salty tears in his beer. On the other hand, he paid only $4,500 in the early 1940s for one of those three farms (100 acres) which he sold for $75,000 eventually, so that must have seemed almost more amazing to him then than today’s figures would if he could learn about them. (Update: In 2018, those 335 acres could fetch as much as $7 million.)

Another farmer in the same area sold his farm a few years earlier for $19,000. He was going to buy a house in town with his money which he could easily do but the new owner said he wasn’t going to use the farmhouse so the farmer could just stay as long as he wanted to. So, the farmer did. I don’t know whether or not he paid rent but after a few years, he decided to move to town. Unfortunately for him, house prices had zoomed past him so quickly in those few years that his $19,000 wouldn’t buy him a house by then. If he was still around, with that money he couldn’t even buy a decent van to live in down by the river.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.