Ah, yes, this David-and-Goliath-style story piqued much interest when we first answered a QoD about it back in 2010. The person who submitted the original question in 2010 was intrigued, since there had been quite a media buzz back in 2005 and then ... nothing.
The first time around, initially we also drew a blank, but QoD is nothing if not resourceful, so we called a realtor friend of ours and her access to data to which we non-realtors were not privy helped us to get the ball rolling. So, for those who aren't familiar with this tale, here's the background, followed by whatever updated information we've been able to add this time around which, we confess, isn't much.
In 1978 Manuel Corchuelo, a Colombian immigrant and former catering waiter, purchased a 700-square-foot house located at 224 Cincinnati Ave., in the Las Vegas neighborhood behind the Stratosphere known, colloquially, as "Naked City" (for the dancers and strippers who used to live back there in the '50s and sunbathe naked to avoid tan lines). He paid $30,000 for the property, which could be described most charitably as "modest".
In the following years, the already "colorful" Naked City area degenerated into a decidedly insalubrious ghetto, riddled with crime, drugs, and prostitution. Corchuelo's property is a tract home that sits on 1.9 acres of unkempt desert scrub, as you can see clearly from this picture, and this one. However, when Manuel hit the headlines in late 2005, he was asking $1.2 million for it. Yes, you read that correctly.
The reason for the inflated price was that all around him, new hotels and condominiums were rising up, and Corchuelo was obsessed with monitoring the real-estate market and making sure his property was appraised at what he thought was the correct amount. So, when Steve Wynn paid $250,000 a square foot for the land upon which his eponymous casino was built, Manuel figured he should get the same number for his land, although the house next door had sold about six months prior for $520,000 and, unlike Wynn, he's a block removed from the Strip.
The $1.2 million price tag that Corchuelo insisted on back in '05 piqued the interest of national media and, when the Associated Press ran a story, it went global. When we attempted to pick up the trail five years on, we hit a wall until our friend succeeded in tracking down one of the agents with whom the property had been listed, a realtor named Georgia James who formerly dubbed herself the "Mayor of Naked City" for all the deals she'd put together in the neighborhood over the years.
According to the candid Ms. James, Corchuelo is an elderly and somewhat grouchy gentleman with no family and few friends -- just a stubbornness with regard to settling for anything less than what he thinks his property is worth. She predicted that, unfortunately, with such intransigence he'd likely die there without ever selling.
On a slightly more optimistic note, she told us that a neighboring 2.5-acre plot with 85 units on it had sold for $1.5 million, but the last she'd heard, Corchuelo had upped his asking price to somewhere in the region of $2 million (having been offered upwards of $500,000 in the past, and declined).
When we spoke with her, Ms. James didn't believe that her former client (he's been through several agents the years) currently had any utilities, although she understood that someone had supplied him with a cell phone. As you can see from the links above, and the images picture below taken back in 2005, the tiny property is extremely rundown and barely fit for habitation. With the bottom having fallen out of the condo market, to put it mildly, and projects stalled and abandoned all over town, Señor Corchuelo's chances of a sale were seeming even more remote than ever.
Following our publication of the story in 2010, we received feedback from several intrepid readers, whose curiosity had been piqued. A very helpful chap from Chicago discovered the pictures we link to above, in one of which you can clearly see a realtor's sign, indicating that the property was then (in 2010) on the market with a company called Rossum Realty.
Another QoD enthusiast grasped the baton [Ed: Oh, how we love our readers!] and contributed the following:
"The April 15, 2010 QoD involved Manuel Corchuelo's 700 sq ft home in Naked City. Using Google Maps Street View, I looked at the address you provided: 224 Cincinnati Ave. When the photo for Google was taken, there was a sign out front that said, "Rossum Realty Property For Sale. Resort Corridor, High Rent District. $20 Billion Of Approved Projects Surrounding Parcel. Accepting Bids For This Parcel." There was also the name Tom Bloss and phone number 702-429-4752. I don't know how old this sign is, but hopefully it will help out with finding out more about this QoD. Have a great day." [Ed: After an email like that, how could we possibly not?!]
However, since some days had elapsed since the answer running and the arrival of this new information, our attention had moved on to future QoDs and we didn't think too much about this story until the new query landed in our mailbox. From our recent research, we can reveal that according to estimated-property-value site Homes.com, the Conchuelo residence is currently worth closer to $65,600 than $2 million, down from a recent peak of $70,000 last December.
We tracked down Tom Bloss, who ceased representing the property some time ago. "I haven't spoken with that gentleman in a year or more," was about all he had to say on the matter. He didn't know if 224 Cincinnati Ave. was still on the market, but from what we could find out, it doesn't seem to be. We approached a couple of realtors who looked as if they might be representing it, but never hears a word back.
As to Manuel Corchuelo, we could find no recent information about him, either. We assume he's still alive, as we came across no evidence to the contrary, and we did find a Manuel Corchuelo, aged 71, which sounds about the right age, who's apparently living in Carson City. Whether that's the same Manuel Corchuelo and he's finally given up and moved on, or a different Manuel Corchuelo entirely, we couldn't say. If anyone out there once again wants to get in on the action and digs up any additional facts, please send 'em our way.
