Terry Camp of ABC12 introduced the story with the kind of detail that instantly makes people sit up straighter, because it sounds like a once-in-a-lifetime bargain.
A Missouri couple says they paid $8,000 for a six-bedroom, three-and-a-half-bath house in Saginaw, bought it without seeing it in person, and then discovered – after an eight-hour drive – that they believe the place simply wasn’t fit to live in.
The couple, Matt Allen and his wife Julie Hale, told Camp they understood the risk of buying a property sight unseen, especially at a price that low. But they also say the home was represented to them as “livable” while they fixed it up, and that’s the promise they say made the gamble feel reasonable.
Back in the studio, anchor Angie asked the most important question right away: was an inspection done. Camp’s answer was simple and, in a way, painfully common in fast, bargain-driven sales – no, they did not get an inspection, and they say they were encouraged to skip it to speed up the purchase.
The $8,000 Listing That Pulled Them Across State Lines
In Camp’s report, Allen and Hale describe how they found the home on Owen Street on the east side of Saginaw, located in what Camp identified as the Cathedral District, and they say the price alone got their attention.

Even people who don’t know real estate can feel how unusual that number is for a house that size, which is why the couple said they researched the area, noticed its history, and decided it was worth taking a shot.
They weren’t expecting perfection, and that’s an important part of this story. Camp made it clear the couple says they knew the house would need work, and they say they were prepared for a fixer-upper situation where they’d be repairing things room by room while living there.
That’s a normal strategy for people who don’t have endless cash, and it’s also why “livable” becomes more than a casual word. A home can be ugly, outdated, and rough around the edges, but still safe enough to sleep in while renovations happen – at least, that’s the line most buyers think they’re operating within.
The “Livable” Question And The Decision To Skip Inspections
Camp reports that Allen and Hale worked through Gatehouse Brokerage, and they say they dealt with a realtor named Drew Pursley. The couple told Camp they received videos of the interior, but they also described those videos as “extremely hazy,” which matters because hazy footage can hide exactly the kinds of conditions that turn a “project” into a hazard.

Allen and Hale told Camp they asked a straightforward question before committing: could they live in the home while they fixed it up, especially since they had pets and planned to stay on-site during renovations. According to the couple, they were told yes, and that reassurance helped push them over the edge.
Camp also reported another detail the couple says influenced their trust level: they claim Pursley told them he was a reserve deputy with the Saginaw County Sheriff’s Department, which Camp explained is a volunteer position and not the same as being an employee of the sheriff’s office.
The couple said that claim made them feel like they were dealing with someone credible and “well known,” and they believed that meant the answers they were getting were dependable.
This is where the story starts to feel like a warning flare for anyone who has ever bought something big based mainly on messages, photos, and assurances.
When money is tight and the deal looks like a miracle, it’s easy to treat confidence from a person involved in the sale as a substitute for hard verification, even though those are two completely different things.
The Eight-Hour Drive And The Moment The House Changed Shape
Camp reports Allen and Hale packed their belongings into a U-Haul, had their van delivered to the property, and arrived in Saginaw just before Christmas expecting to start their new chapter.

From the outside, they told Camp, the house didn’t initially look like the nightmare they were about to describe, and for a brief moment they felt relief.
Then they opened the door, and the tone changed instantly. The couple told Camp there was an overpowering smell of mildew and mold before they even fully stepped inside, which is one of those details that hits like a physical punch because anyone who has smelled serious mold knows it doesn’t whisper – it announces itself.
Inside, Allen and Hale told Camp the basement was underwater, estimating about eight inches of water, maybe more, and that realization alone can wipe out the entire “livable while you fix it” idea. A flooded basement doesn’t just mean “repairs,” it can mean hidden damage, electrical risk, contamination, and a long list of problems that snowball fast.
Camp’s report also included the couple’s belief that someone had been using the house. They described a bathroom where an umbrella was propped up and where signs suggested someone was using the space even though there was no running water, which left them feeling not only disappointed but genuinely alarmed.
In real-world terms, this is where a cheap house stops being a bargain and starts being a trap. Even if you can handle ugly drywall and old carpet, it’s hard to “DIY” your way out of flooding, mold, and signs of unauthorized occupancy without serious time, money, and risk.
Neighbors, A Hotel Night, And A Fast Retreat Back To Missouri
Camp reported that neighbors noticed the U-Haul and tried to console the couple, and Julie Hale told him one neighbor essentially said they knew something was wrong the moment they saw the moving truck. According to Hale, the neighbor was blunt about it: “Oh, you can’t live in that house.”
That kind of comment is heartbreaking because it suggests the condition may not have been a secret to people nearby, even if it was a surprise to the buyers. It also captures how lonely a moment like that can feel—arriving with your life packed up, only to learn from a stranger that the plan was dead on arrival.
After spending a night in a hotel, Camp said the couple headed back to Missouri on Christmas Eve, which is the kind of detail that makes the whole thing feel even heavier.
The van they had delivered, Camp reported, was still sitting at the Owen Street home, a leftover piece of their move that now looks like a marker of how quickly everything unraveled.
Camp also noted that city records showed the home was rented in 2024, and that a city crew ensured electricity was turned on by Consumers Energy in December.
Those details don’t automatically prove anything about what the couple was told, but they do add layers of context about the property’s recent status and activity.
Silence From The Realtor And The Question Of Recourse
In the final stretch of the report, Terry Camp said the couple immediately tried contacting Drew Pursley after seeing the interior conditions, but they told him they haven’t heard back. Camp also stated he attempted to reach Pursley and Gatehouse Brokerage for comment as well, and he said he did not receive a response.

Allen and Hale told Camp they want their money back, but they also framed it as something bigger than just refunding an $8,000 check.
They said they don’t want this happening to anyone else, which is the kind of statement people often make after they realize how easily another buyer – especially someone desperate for affordable housing – could fall into the same situation.
Camp reported that the couple has reached out to attorneys, but that it’s unclear whether they have legal recourse.
That uncertainty is the cruel part, because even when someone believes they’ve been misled, the path to proving it can be expensive, slow, and murky – especially when the purchase was done quickly and without the usual guardrails like an inspection.
Why This Kind Of Story Keeps Happening

The uncomfortable truth is that this situation doesn’t require cartoon villains to become real, because the market itself can create the conditions for it. When homes feel out of reach, people start hunting for miracle deals, and once that mindset takes hold, skipping steps like inspections can feel like “being decisive” instead of “being exposed.”
But Camp’s reporting shows exactly why inspections exist in the first place, because an inspection is not just paperwork – it’s a reality check that forces problems into daylight before a buyer is emotionally and financially committed.
If someone tells you skipping it will “speed things up,” that may be true, but speed and safety rarely travel together in real estate.
There’s also a hard lesson here about “livable,” because that word can mean wildly different things depending on who’s saying it, and it’s not a technical standard unless it’s clearly defined in writing.
A buyer hears “livable” and imagines basic functioning systems and a safe interior; someone selling may think “it has walls and a roof,” and that gap can swallow people whole.
If there’s a takeaway from Terry Camp’s report, it’s that the cheapest house on the screen can end up being the most expensive decision in your life once you add travel costs, moving costs, lost time, legal uncertainty, and the emotional crash of watching a plan collapse in a single afternoon.
And for anyone tempted by an unbelievable listing, this story is a reminder that you can’t smell mold through a hazy video, you can’t measure water in a basement through a phone screen, and you can’t move your life into a promise that isn’t backed by something solid.

Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, John developed a love for the great outdoors early on. With years of experience as a wilderness guide, he’s navigated rugged terrains and unpredictable weather patterns. John is also an avid hunter and fisherman who believes in sustainable living. His focus on practical survival skills, from building shelters to purifying water, reflects his passion for preparedness. When he’s not out in the wild, you can find him sharing his knowledge through writing, hoping to inspire others to embrace self-reliance.


































