This one is for Ray.
A mentor to countless real estate researchers who changed how I view myself in one phone call.
I was lucky to have Ray Torto in my corner. “Luck” is among my least favored words but, in this case, too many coincidences had to align for a single phone call to mean so much.
It is a shame about Ray.
He passed away in April. RIP.
I learned the news while attending a conference in New York and this song sunk into my GenX brain to assist me while floating through the tasks of the day in lieu of grieving. It pops back up for me when I think about him now, especially as I write this piece.
It is not my place to discuss his struggles, so I will merely acknowledge that his mind left us first.
In the early days of the pandemic, I gathered some colleagues to connect with him virtually. We were as delighted to see him as he was to see us. It was brief, but joyous.
The task fell to me only because I had the venue. At the time, I used my Zoom account for regular real estate researcher happy hours, starting with a group of us engaged in a friendly forecast contest and adding others along the way. I missed my colleagues, or dare I say friends.
I do say “friends” now. I might have said “conference friends” before 2020. But, once you keep the same company for more than two decades, there is no difference between “conference friends" and friends. I missed them all.
The employment forecast contest is a fun little rivalry that started at Torto Wheaton Research (TWR). Fun fact, I never worked there.
When CBRE acquired TWR, the group was renamed CBRE Econometric Advisors, or CBRE-EA for short. I never worked there either. I did work for CBRE Research, which is CBRE-EA adjacent. These complicated parent-child company relationships are a bit confusing and, ultimately, beside the point.
Commercial real estate researchers all know each other.
Our world is so small it is impossible for us not to connect.
I worked for companies subscribing to TWR, and later, CBRE-EA. The nature of their services allowed for continuous contact with their researchers. And, thus, my early connections to the TWR team went something like this:
Me: This forecast does not make sense.
TWR researcher(s): Sorry to hear that. Let me check something...
[A long, nerdy conversation ensues about economic and real estate data wherein everyone is an expert and has a fun chatting until reaching a satisfactory conclusion for both parties]
While I was working at firms that paid TWR for forecasts and comparing their results to my forecasts, we were all learning from each other about how to build better forecasts and creating bonds that I never realized would be so strong.
The TWR office had a friendly game with a physical drop box for guessing the monthly US employment number. Anyone in their office who wanted to play would drop a piece of paper in the box with their name and guess. Fun fact, I never did this.
In 2013, I went to work for CBRE Research in Dallas and later that year visited the TWR [oops] CBRE-EA office in Boston for the first time.
It was like walking into a room full of friends. They were excited that I was [sort of] working with them and I was too.
I spent too much time in each researcher’s office chatting and reminiscing. The organizer of the employment forecast contest was set on letting me join and the team agreed. The email version of the contest was born.
I left CBRE Research in 2015 and most of those still connected through the email forecast contest left around that time too. The virtual contest morphed into a means of staying in touch as we scattered across other companies.
In the brief time I worked with the CBRE-EA team, the bonding was intense. This period involved several organizational and leadership changes on both sides of the research business. As research economists, we were focused on quality processes and innovative projects to serve research goals, which do not always align neatly with corporate profit goals.
Leadership changes can be messy, and I wanted our voices to be heard at the top. I was struck by a wild idea.
My idea scared the hell out of me.
I knew of only one person to ask for advice. Ray Torto.
The “T” of TWR. The person, who together with Bill Wheaton, created the foundation of the work I and the CBRE-EA team and all other commercial real estate researchers were doing. I needed to learn if my wild idea had any merit and, while not confident of much back then, I was confident that Ray would be forthright in his response.
I asked Ray if I was qualified to apply for Head of Americas Research. I asked Ray how likely it was that I could get far enough to interview.
My wild idea was to use the interview to share research team grievances with leadership. I had learned that getting to the interview stage would get me in front of corporate and research leadership at the same time for at least 90 minutes.
I assumed I was not qualified. I assumed I had no chance of receiving an offer. I did believe, however, that I could get 90 minutes to tell leadership what was wrong with our research organization and processes and how I could fix it. I was full of ideas to turn this ship around, and perhaps keep some people from leaving… including me.
Ray asked me a lot of questions.
He remembered meeting me about a decade prior and was familiar with my work since I joined CBRE Research. He asked me about all my ideas to improve our research organization and processes. He asked me what I thought about the economy and real estate markets.
He closed his questions by saying, “now I know who Sara Rutledge is”. He told me to apply. He told me that he hoped I would get the position. I was crying before I could hang up the phone.
A male superior encouraging me to lead was an entirely new experience for this 30-something female real estate economist in Dallas, Texas. In my then-14 years of experience, I had never felt validated in my work like this before.
Within a week of our discussion, I received a call from the tenant representation (or occupier) side of CBRE’s business asking if I could be the keynote speaker at a client meeting. The client, a bank, had a last-minute cancelation from Ray Torto and needed someone to fill in with a US economic and real estate overview to kick-off the meeting.
Ray suggested that I present in his place.
This presentation was the first in which I had complete creative control. I built out the story, the charts, the order, every detail was mine. I worked on this presentation while also building my application packet for the job I did not expect to get.
The application packet also required a US economic and real estate overview deck. Did Ray help me? I don’t know. I was too scared to ask.
When I finished my presentation at the bank, I closed with a nod to filling in for Ray and – I kid you not – the bank executive said, “Ray who?”.
I interviewed at dawn in Las Vegas for the Head of America Research job. I had a sinus infection but was feeling better than those in the room who hit the conference party too hard the night before. I told them what I wanted to do. I told them how doing what I wanted to do would make the research team more productive and better integrate the CBRE-EA team with CBRE Research.
I was told I came in second for that job. First place quit within a month. There was not a new search. The role went to an up-and-coming leader from inside the company, but outside research. About 18 months later, I was working a new job in a new city, leading research for the private real estate investment industry association.
Ray Torto meant so much to so many.
He worked with and mentored so many researchers and economists. Together with Bill Wheaton, he built the first research-driven real estate advisory and forecast business. I worked with him briefly, yet his impact on me was profound.
He never considered me as less-than capable because he evaluated my research work on its merits alone. This gave me the confidence to consider myself a leader. It changed everything for me.
Thank you, Ray.