bingo... i was the next to the last place on a dead end hill top road and could hear the dogs barking along the fire chain if a car was coming it was too far for crackheads to walk, and if they come by car, it's to rob you after they kill you
bingo... i was the next to the last place on a dead end hill top road and could hear the dogs barking along the fire chain if a car was coming it was too far for crackheads to walk, and if they come by car, it's to rob you after they kill you
About 20 years ago I was looking to buy/build a bar business in the islands and spent a LOT of time there over several years, fruitlessly as it turned out.
The first thing I did on each island was to ask around for the most politically connected attorney. I hired them and they kept me out of serious trouble. The attorney on St. Croix was Kenneth (M——?), a nice young guy who became the Senator for St. Croix in the legislature.
I made several offers on land/buildings but found out the “belongers” —and their realtors—ideas about business ethics and practices would put them in jail in the U.S.
One of the properties I looked at on St.Croix was the old windmill restaurant near Fredricksted. After I made an offer with a earnest money deposit to the old lady who owned it, her nephew, an attorney, stepped in and bought it. I guess he thought he’d get it for free when she died.
Another one was the old dock and gasoline storage acreage for Cruzan Rum on the beach road out of Fredericksted. When I met their price and tendered money, they withdress it from the market (temporarily as it turned out, I think, and a buddy of the Board bought it.)
There was a bar/restaurant on the main street of Fredericksted that was owned by two gay guys who were splitting up and wanted to sell. Never made a deal on that one as they wanted too much.
Then there was the old abandoned resort out on the beach road in the opposite direction (Ham’s Bluff). Again, as soon as I showed interest, a local politician stepped in and bought it from under me.
In St. Thomas things were worse. A guy tried to sell me a restaurant overlooking the bay at Charlotte Amalie that was perfect. But my attorney told me that he didn’t own it. The owner was his ex-wife who was in a mental institution and her three crackhead kids would inherit. The Realto knew, or should have known, all this.
I still go back from time to time but mostly to sail and enjoy the islands. I’m too old now to worry about getting into business down there.