Ok Doc, here you go:
Three weeks later I get my envelope back with the title UNsigned and a letter. Now I could go into a lot of detail as to what Fred had to offer as reasons why he wouldn’t sign it, but suffice to say he was not going to sign anything for someone he had never met, wouldn’t meet, didn’t want to hear from, or invite to lunch. Great. I made another long distance phone call. I actually got hold of Fred and we had an amiable chat, really. He asked whom I had gotten the bike from, how they had acquired it and so on. I gave the details I knew and suggested for further clarification he may want to talk to Myron. That’s when the tone got a little ominous because he started talking about stuff his sister-in-law had illegally sold or confiscated when his brother passed and I began to have a sinking feeling this was not going to turn out well. I sent him the title back with another postage paid envelope in hopes he would recant after our discussion. Next day Myron plops down in my cube and asks me who the hell Fred Rifenbark is. Oh boy, this should be interesting. Why do you ask, I inquired? He then informed me he was grilled for two hours over the phone by some old geezer about the XS, I had just got running and the circumstances to his acquisition of it. I explained to Myron I had talked to Fred and that Fred could ask Myron directly about Myron’s involvement with the bike but that I didn't think Fred would actually contact Myron when I made the proposal. Myron softened a bit and said he had provided a lot of details about the bike and its purchase and that Fred had indicated he was inclined to sign the title after their conversation. Cool.
One week later I got my envelope back from Fred and curiously enough an envelope from the State of Kansas on the same day. It was a Wednesday, I think (the day may be off but not the timing that follows). In the envelope from Fred was the duplicate title Myron had gotten (this time signed) with a cover letter explaining why he had signed it. Apparently, he had buried the hatchet along with poor Helen's remains. In the State of Kansas envelope I fully expected the rejection notice (and a "how dare I try to circumlocute the great state powers" nasty-gram) I was assured by the Osage county clerk was headed my way for my earlier attempt at titling. However, what I found in the State of Kansas envelope was not a nasty-gram at all but a new title with my name on it. So, I had a signed duplicate title from Helen's executor that was legal and a state issued new title, that was legal. On Thursday (or the next day at any rate) Myron came sauntering into my cube with a great big grin. He had finally found his copy of that original signed title from Helen Rifenbark, and because she was listed on that title as a co-owner it was a legal transfer of ownership. He said he had found it the previous night while cleaning out one of his file cabinets looking for specific documents for his defense team on another divorce. That gave me three fully legal titles to one XS 650. Cool, it's super-duper uber-legal. I put the bike up for sale on Fleece-Bay Friday. It was purchased by a bloke named Jurgen Sandner seven days later. I say bloke because he lives in Newcastle, Australia. He actually spent the money and called me directly from Australia to talk about his acquiring my bike and getting it shipped to him down under. His biggest concern during our 2 hour long conversation for taking delivery of my old scoot from the USA of course was a clean and clear title. Boy howdy do I got that covered BIG TIME! THE END
There you go Doc, the "rest of the story". BTW Jurgen had a shipping service stop at my place to get that bike and accompanying bits and bobs that are detailed in another story in my book. As it turned out I ended up selling Jurgen a couple XS's over the years, he's a great guy.
Nice short story.
