I could've made over 7 million dollars from a property investment of just two hundred thousand…but can you believe it - I said "no!"

16 August 1977 will be forever etched in my memory for two equally distressing reasons: 

Firstly, Elvis Presley died that day, and that was a bummer.

Secondly, I opted not to buy the three town houses being built next door - town houses that I could've picked up for around $75,000 each - town houses that last year were collectively sold for a staggering 7.2 million!

Trust me, that was a REAL bummer!

I've never lived that day down, to tell you the truth. I was young. I was ambitious. I was living with my girlfriend in a luxury pad in Sydney's ritzy eastern suburbs. In fact, I was a whole lot of things back then… but the one thing I wasn't, was investment-savvy…….

I knew how to make money, but I didn't have the faintest clue on how to 'keep it', let alone invest it wisely!

I can still remember that day so clearly. I had plenty of money in the bank (by 1970's standards anyway). I drove a nice white 1972 MGB Mark 2 sports car. My girlfriend was the daughter of a well-known New Zealand shipping magnate (who loathed and despised me for wearing a head-band and looking distinctly stoned the day I was introduced to him at his seaside manor house). And to top it all off, I didn't even have a regular job!

What more could a young, up-and-coming entrepreneur want out of life?

Ummm… well…with the benefit of hindsight, perhaps a small handful of functioning brain-cells would've been a great start, if only I'd realised that at the time!

You see, we didn't own our own home in those days. We were flatting instead. It was far less restrictive, and certainly kinder on the cashflow. The concept of actually owning a home was something that only the world's most boring people did - at least, that's what 'I thought' in my humble, arrogant, naive and incredibly ill-informed opinion at the time.

So, in early August 1977 when my girlfriend began incessantly nagging me "to be smart" and invest almost all my savings into the three partially built town houses across the road from us, I honestly thought she'd gone stark raving mad!

Why the hell would "I", a 22-year-old male babe-magnet, weekend sky-diver and part-time moderately successful gambler 'sacrifice every good thing left in life' to go and do something as mind-numbingly dull as invest in property?!

What was my girlfriend thinking?

Was she even capable of logical thought?

After all, she'd made the mistake of telling me that in 20 years time, given the location of these town houses at the top of a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean in one of Sydney's most sought after suburbs, I'd be able to retire… a wealthy man…set for life from the proceeds of what she believed could well turn out to be the most rewarding property investment opportunity I'd ever have in my life-time!

"Good God, girl! You expect me to wait another 20 friggin years before I have enough money to retire???", I blurted back at her. "I'm 22 now, and have every intention of being a multi-millionaire by the time I'm 30 - not when I'm an old, hunched up, arthritic-ridden, drooling 40-year-old!!!

Yes, I really did say those things to her. Oh, what a fool I was! What a sheer waste of DNA!

You see, the day that Elvis died - 16 August 1977 - that guy who lived across the road - the guy who'd built these three town houses - got to talking with me as I was cleaning my car. I'd  purposely parked it on the kerb so that the water could run freely down the nearby drain instead of turning what little lawn we had into a mini-me everglade!

Anyway, this particular neighbor walked right on over and started telling me how he was 'about to list these three properties with a local real estate agent'. I tried to be polite by pretending I cared, but continued to hose down the car, kinda hoping he'd leave me in peace.

Then my girlfriend came outside to see who I was talking to. Her eyes lit up when she recognized who it was, and she immediately started prattling off about 'the potential capital gains to be had by investing in property in this particular area'. I could just tell 'today was not going to be a good day'.

A few minutes later, after much two-way banter with my girlfriend, my neighbor came right out with it and offered me all three town houses for $200,000 cash - that was a $25,000 discount on what he was going to list them for later that same day.

Ok, I admit to giving it some serious thought right about that moment. I didn't have that sort of cash lying around, but I did have $160,000 of it in the bank. I could've easily borrowed the remaining $40,000; that wasn't an issue.

For the first time since my girlfriend started on at me about these properties I actually started to imagine owning them. I told my neighbor that 'I would think about it over lunch and get back to him before he left to go and see the real estate agent'.

I turned on the tv, made myself a coffee and a sandwich… and then stared in disbelief at the unfolding drama in front of me. A television news reporter was standing outside Memphis General Hospital, delivering the tragic news of Elvis's passing.

I went completely numb. I loved that guy like a distant brother… and I sure as hell loved his music!

"Elvis is dead???!!!"

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, noooooooo!!!

I remember turning in semi-bewildered shock to my emotionally challenged girlfriend (i.e. she didn't actually give a toss that Elvis was dead) and saying to her that 'I wasn't interested in buying any town houses today; not anymore… not after this bad news'. I then asked her if she could go over and tell our neighbor 'he can list them with whoever he wants'.

27 years, one  marriage, two kids, one divorce, a near fatal bout of pneumonia, the death of my mother, and about 3 careers later… I happened to be over in Sydney on business. By some cruel and ironic twist of fate, I found myself literally driving past the exact same road - Diamond Bay Road - all those years later… and curiosity got to me!

I did a u-turn and doubled back the way I had come, then turned left into Diamond Bay Road. I just had to see the old flat where we used to live all those years ago - just one more time.

Can you believe it? I'd actually long since forgotten about the day Elvis had died, or the three town houses i could've bought. I only wanted to see my old flat. Call me sentimental:)

Anyway, I drove past the place where our flat used to be… but it wasn't there anymore! Just a giant, 20 storey condo with billion dollar views of the Pacific Ocean from every balconey!

I felt sad. It was kinda like my past had been erased by progress.

Then I saw them…

Oh - My- God!!!

There they were… the three magnificent, cliff-top situated, grape-vine covered, luxury town houses that I had been offered for just $200,000 some 27 years earlier.

What had I done???

How could I have turned my nose up at such a once-in-a-lifetime deal???

I deserved to spend the rest of my days living under a frequently flooded bridge!!!

Anyway, I noticed a "For Sale" sign outside the middle town house, and so I parked the car and got out to take a closer look.

Did I REALLY want to know what these properties must be worth now?

Call me a masochist… but "Y-E-S" I had to know!!!

I walked right up to the front door and knocked… a rather plump but incredibly 'successful looking' Greek guy came to the door and greeted me. I explained to him how I'd lived across the road back in the '70's and had seen all three of these town houses being built.

I then nervously asked him 'how much was he hoping to get for the one he was selling?'

"Ok sir… for cash buyer I give good deal" he said in a thick Greek accent. "I have registered valuation for $2.6 million… but I give you for $2.4 million if you buy now, ok?"

I just stared blankly, unable to speak. 'Was this what the moment of death felt like? Was I really here? Did I actually hear what I thought I just heard?'

I thanked the Greek guy for his time, apologised for not being in a position to purchase his town house from him, and then silently walked back to the car.

I was in shock - genuine shock - I couldn't believe what had just happened. I slumped into the driver's seat and took a deep breath. My girlfriend had been right all along! For an outlay of just $200,000 back in 1977 I could've been sitting on more than 7 million dollars worth of prime real estate in one of the world's most beautiful cities, today!

What have I learned from this experience - other than it hurt more than the time my then 8-year old brother through a brick at me for dropping him out the bedroom window the day before?

"If you ever have the good fortune to be offered prime real estate, no matter what time of the economic cycle it might be, and you can genuinely afford it, BUY IT…

…. or consider joining me under that frequently flooded bridge for the rest of your days. 

If you've got any "hard luck" or "if only I had've…" stories to tell, why not share them with us right here on this blog.