I asked Patrick about the note. He looked away. "Dammit Erinn." When he looked back, his eyes were wet. In that moment, he realized someone finally understood.
Peter and I met Patrick Easter in person for the first time at the Omni in Austin this past spring. We were there for the HousingWire Gathering. Austin is Patrick's city, where his father Bob founded Easter and Easter Realtors, a boutique brokerage that has been serving the Austin community with heart since 1982.
Patrick took over the brokerage in 2014 with his family's blessing and one requirement: "The Bunnies never change."
Bob meant the logo. The bunnies on the sign stay the same shape, always green or white. But Patrick understood what his father was really saying. He had watched Bob run Easter and Easter since he was nine years old. He knew the bunnies weren't about a sign. They were about the philosophy underneath it. Relationships first. Exceptional care. The way Bob treated every agent and every client who walked through the door.
"The bunnies never change" meant: don't lose what makes this place what it is.
Patrick never did.
As Patrick was leaving the Omni, he handed me a book. No explanation. Just... here, take this.
SMILE: How a People-First Philosophy Creates Extraordinary Sales, by Steve M. Rigby.
I thanked him, put it in my bag, and left for the airport.
Somewhere over the middle of the country, I began reading. When I got to page 34, I discovered a handwritten note.
"Now you know why I gave you this book. This chapter captures exactly who my dad was. Now you see why your company spoke to me."
He didn't tell me the note was there. He let me find it.
I went on to read about Bob Easter, nicknamed "The Master of Simple," with a passion for growing people, along with many other delightful insights into the secrets of listening. And I started to understand why Patrick had handed me this particular book, at that particular moment, without saying a word.
Patrick wrote me a letter after our conversation. He wanted to explain what he couldn't say when I asked him about the note.
"I have literally been waiting for over 44 years to find someone who understood that the human connection is more important than any other aspect of business."
He told me about his father. How Bob would come home from work, change his clothes, and settle into a blue leather chair with a matching ottoman. How he would reach over and pull the post of the large lamp beside him. It made a clunk sound every time. That clunk was Patrick's signal to walk in and tell his father about his day.
And his father, every single time, would talk about a person. Not a deal. Not a number. A relationship that had meant something. Someone he had helped reach a goal.
In October of 1982, Bob Easter ran a newspaper ad. The headline: "007 Agent Syndrome."
We promise to listen to you. To treat you as an individual. To understand your ideas and goals. Provide a working environment where you love to go to work each day.
"Phone Bob Easter — He is waiting to listen to you."
That was 1982. Most brokerages still haven't caught up.
Patrick has carried his father's philosophy throughout his entire career. Running his brokerage on the belief that relationships come first. That agents deserve to be heard. That the working environment matters.
But carrying that philosophy while trying to compete in today's market — maintaining the infrastructure, the technology, the overhead — that's a weight no independent broker should have to carry alone. And for years, Patrick did.
"When we first met," he wrote, "I remember getting off that call and feeling like I had finally found someone else who understood that concept. You listened to me, and more importantly, heard me, Erinn."