In real estate transactions, buyers and sellers bombard their agents with questions: What does this contract clause mean? Will a title issue delay closing? How does a tenant's lease affect the sale? Most agents feel compelled to answer every question on the spot, but Jerry Larkowski, Managing Broker at ESQ. Realty Group, LLC in Little Rock, Arkansas, believes that pressure causes more harm than a gap in knowledge ever could. Larkowski, a licensed attorney since 1991, learned this lesson long before real estate—during a 2006 run for the Arkansas House of Representatives.
His path to the ballot began with a troubled 2002 election in Pulaski County, where voters were sent to wrong polling places, ballots ran short, and some were turned away. In early 2003, local officials appointed him to the Pulaski County Election Commission, and he became chair within his first two meetings. The commission hired a new director and implemented new processes for future elections. The coverage was intense; he was in the statewide newspaper regularly for months and faced television interviews. A close friend warned him, "If it went south and if it went bad, nobody would hesitate to blame you. So you better dance in the glory of it doing really, really well."
In 2005, Larkowski resigned from the commission to run for the state house in 2006. Four candidates entered the race, and he recalls more than $250,000 in combined donations, making it one of the most expensive state house races in Arkansas at the time. From January to mid-May 2006, he walked the district after work and on weekends, knocking on more than 3,000 doors. He lost. "I told everybody in the week after that, I've lost cases in the courtroom that I'm still more mad about than this," he says. "It was worth losing, I guess, is probably the best way to put it."
What he gained was a clearer picture of the people behind the votes. He says the overwhelming majority were "good-hearted, hard-working, tax-paying, law-abiding people" who simply want their city, state, and country to work. He also noticed that homeowners paid especially close attention to local policy. "People that own their homes take a little bit more interest, I think, in things because they've got skin in the game," he says.
The campaign trail is a steady stream of questions from strangers, and not all have easy answers. Larkowski watched many people respond to a question they could not answer by talking in circles. He took a different approach, which he still uses in real estate. "I know a lot, but I don't know the answer to that question, but I'm going to go find out, and I'm going to get back to you," he says. "And then follow up and do it." He says clients respond better to that than to a polished guess, partly because of who is saying it. After 35 years as a licensed attorney, people expect him to know everything. When he admits he doesn't, the reaction is often surprise. "They think, wow, he doesn't know it. Most people like him would just make up an answer," he says. "I think it commands respect. And when you start losing respect with people that you are trying to sell something, you might as well just give up."
For anyone working with an agent, the practical takeaway is simple. A long, vague answer that leans on "I think" is a warning sign, especially on questions involving title, contracts, deadlines, or legal obligations. A guess on any of those can cost real money. A better answer sounds specific even when it is incomplete: the agent says what they know, names what they need to confirm, tells you who they will ask—whether an attorney, a title company, or a lender—and gives you a time frame. Then they call you back. Larkowski's background in law, public service, and real estate is outlined on his About Me page. His advice for evaluating any agent is the same one he learned on those doorsteps: nobody expects you to know everything, but they do expect you to be honest about it. A confident guess can cost a client thousands. An honest "let me find out" costs them a day.
