The Next Frontier of Foreclosure Litigation could be over “irregular” sales.

When Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-117 (originally § 35-5-118) was enacted in 2010, foreclosure lawyers were terrified.

This was the first time that the Tennessee legislature limited a creditor’s collection rights after a foreclosure. And the text was pretty ambiguous.

The statute created two general scenarios where a debtor could fight efforts by a creditor to obtain a deficiency judgment after a foreclosure:

  • Where the debtor can make “a showing of fraud, collusion, misconduct, or irregularity in the sale process” (see Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-117(b)); or
  • Where the debtor can “prove by a preponderance of the evidence that the property sold for an amount materially less than the fair market value of property at the time of the foreclosure sale” (see Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-117(c)).

At the time, foreclosure attorneys focused on what “materially less” than “fair market value” meant. The legislative history of the statute revealed that the lawmakers pulled that phrase from divorce law, where a “material change in circumstances” could impact child custody decisions. (Not much guidance on foreclosure cases.)

Ultimately, the appellate courts found that 88%-90% of the last known appraisal was sufficient, with later opinions approving 80% bids. With this “mathematical” clarity, foreclosing lenders had some guidance to avoid traps under 117(c).

But what about the part we all overlooked, Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-117(b)? We took that part for granted because, seriously, does any lender or foreclosure attorney commit fraud, collusion, misconduct, or irregularity in the sale process?

I don’t ask this in a rhetorical way. It’s an interesting question, and, in light of customary foreclosure practices in Tennessee, I think it’s ripe for litigation.

Here’s an example, which you can try at home. Grab your local newspaper (assuming one still exists in your area), and look for the foreclosure notices. Pick the first one you see, and call the foreclosure attorney and see what happens.

In my experience, it’s likely that:

  • The attorney/staff will never answer your call/email.
  • The attorney/staff will not call/email you back.
  • If you do hear back, you will not be provided with any information other than what is in the sale notice.
  • In many situations, you will not even get confirmation whether the sale is proceeding or not.
  • There will be sale terms announced in the minutes before the sale, but those are only rarely shared with interested parties in advance. Things like: Whether buyers need to bring cash. If so, how much. When will closing happen. Whether buyers need be pre-qualified.

These are fundamental questions that any reasonable bidder would expect to be provided. If an interested party doesn’t get these answers in advance, then they simply will not show up or, if they do, will be unprepared to bid. This uncertainty and failure to communicate leaves foreclosure bidding to the low-ball bidders, who make their money by exploiting the ambiguity (and low bid prices).

The failure to respond to interested parties’ reasonable questions will chill interest in a sale and will reduce the number of potential bidders. This could rise to the level of a violation of the foreclosure trustee’s duties under the Deed of Trust and could, possibly, render the sale “irregular.”

Foreclosing lenders in Tennessee should consider subpart 117(b) and how they or their counsel handle sales. Sure, no lender thinks their sale is “irregular,” but, on the right facts, you never know how a court will rule.

A remembrance of Professor Tom Nenon and a Reminder of the Value of the Small Things

University of Memphis professor Tom Nenon passed away last week. I want to tell you a very small story about Tom, who had a very big impact on my life.

When I first met Tom Nenon, he’d hadn’t yet been made provost. He was just a professor in the (Memphis State) Philosophy Department.

This was in 1993, and I was starting my sophomore year, still struggling to find my way at a big university.

After a first semester in some difficult pre-med courses, I received a not-so-kind letter from the scholarship office over the Christmas holidays, informing me that, if my grades didn’t rise and exceed a certain threshold, I’d lose my full-ride (and then some) scholarship. My grades weren’t awful, but they were middling.

I was a first generation college student, and my first year was a bumpy ride. As the kid of a grocery store check-out clerk and a factory worker, I had no idea what college looked like or how I fit in there.

When I shared the letter with my family over the holiday break, my parents just shrugged their shoulders and said something to the effect of “Oh well, you tried. College isn’t for everybody.” It’s crazy, but also completely understandable. They had worked every day of their lives to build a great home and life, and they simply didn’t see why their healthy, smart 18 year old son would waste 4 of his prime working years.

It was nice to not get fussed at, but it was also pretty clear that, if I lost this scholarship, it was my problem to solve and, maybe, the end of college for me.

I was terrified. What scared me the most was that my grades weren’t the result of too much fun or partying or enjoying the college life-style. Instead, I was trying as hard as I could and, for the first time in my life, began to wonder if I was good enough to succeed.


I’d love to tell you that the second semester of my freshman year was all redemption and great successes. Nope, it was still really hard. In the end, I got my grades just up enough to keep the scholarship, with Biology II and General Physics making sure to keep me in doubt about my future.


The next year, my sophomore year, I avoided all the science classes. My parents–who were confused why I was even at college–were even more confused to hear about my studies in Sociology, Communication, and Classical Issues in Philosophy.

I was still a bit lost, but felt like, maybe, I was heading in the right direction.

Then I met Tom Nenon, my Philosophy 1101 professor.

If you’ve read this far, you’re probably expecting to hear about an internship or research project or some mentorship that grew into a life-long friendship. This is not that.

Here’s what Tom did for me. A few months into the semester–maybe in October–at the end of a lecture, he asked if “David Anthony was present and could meet me in my office.”

It was big lecture class, with about 75 students, and I remember the looks on my friends’ faces wondering what I had done. I was also a little bit concerned.

In his office, he greeted me as if I was a long-lost friend, and he sat me down and told me how impressed he has been with my work in class. He asked if I had ever considered studying philosophy, and he gave me a sales pitch about the department, the students and faculty, and all the things I could do with a philosophy degree (by that time, I had vaguely identified a law degree as a possible path). I felt like a 5 star point guard in the basketball facility. It was awesome.

In the end, I didn’t become a philosophy major. I took 3-4 more philosophy courses, but followed my heart into the English department. Other than a few hi’s and how are you’s, I’m not sure I talked much with Professor Nenon after that.

But here’s why I’m posting all this. After that day in his office, I never questioned whether I belonged on that campus. I also never questioned taking courses that I was passionate about. I never made anything less than an “A” in any class. And I never forgot the guy who not only saw my potential but made sure to celebrate and encourage it.


When Nenon was appointed Provost years later, I emailed him to congratulate him but also to share my gratitude for that very small moment that had such a ripple effect on my own journey.

His response was very kind and effusive, and I wish I still had it.

But, having read more about his life and passion for others, I am sure that I am just one of the thousands of students, friends, and colleagues whose lives and journeys were touched by Tom, and I’m so glad I was able to thank him, even if it came 20 years after the fact.

It’s a reminder how often we have the ability to help or encourage somebody, with the smallest gesture, and how easy it can be.

Thanks for the final lesson, Professor Nenon.

Recording a judgment lien during appeal period is not an “execution,” says Tennessee Court of Appeals

In March 2024, the Davidson County Chancery Court offered an answer to a longstanding collections legal question: Can a judgment creditor record a copy of its judgment as soon as it is signed by the Judge, or must the creditor wait 30 days?

In that case, the Chancery Court allowed the lien to stand, drawing the mechanical distinction between the processes of recording a judgment and enforcing that lien via execution sale. The answer didn’t end the debate, since the reasoning wasn’t fleshed out in a memorandum opinion and never considered at an appellate level.

As a creditor lawyer who knows the immense value of getting a judgment lien recorded as soon as possible, I saw the case as a good first step, but have been eager to see an appellate court discuss this issue.

In June 2024, the Tennessee Court of Appeals took that next step, in Justice v. Nelson, No. E2023-00407-COA-R3-CV, 2024 WL 3172263 (Tenn. Ct. App. June 26, 2024).

There, the Judgment Debtor posted a supersedeas / appeal bond after entry of the judgment, but the Judgment Creditor nevertheless recorded the judgment as a lien. Debtor demanded that the lien be removed as a “wrongful execution” because it was recorded while a bond was in place, and Creditor refused.

The Court of Appeals found in favor of the creditor, in fairly short order. “[F]iling a judgment lien does not constitute execution of a judgment.” Id. at *11. “Recordation of a judgment lien precedes execution.” Id.

Similar to the Davidson County Chancery Court’s reasoning, the appellate court drew a distinction between the processes of recording a lien and enforcing a lien, citing with approval the creditor’s analogy that “recording a judgment is ‘no more an execution than recording a deed of trust is a foreclosure’.” Id.

It’s a fine distinction, and one that I think deserved more attention from the appellate court. (I mean, “execution” is in the name of the rule of procedure that allows for recording a judgment as a lien.)

Recording a judgment as a lien is one of the most powerful collection tools in a creditor’s arsenal. It gives the creditor a lien on all property owned by the debtor in that county. The debtor can’t then transfer, refinance, or otherwise do anything with the property, unless the lien is paid or the creditor consents.

In considering whether the judgment debtor’s appeal was “baseless,” the Court notes the debtor “cites no Tennessee law to explain why it is a debatable question.” Id. at *11. The Court then cites text from ATS, Inc. v. Kent, 27 S.W.3d 923, 924 (Tenn. Ct. App. 1998), to support its conclusion, but that case didn’t consider this exact issue (the judgment in ATS was recorded about 46 days after entry).

With all due respect, I’ve practiced creditor rights law for more than 25 years, and lawyers ask me this exact question more than any other. That ATS decision offers hardly any guidance on this issue. In short, the creditor lawyer in me supports the outcome, but I’m disappointed with the reasoning.

Having said all that, there’s the answer: You absolutely can record your judgment as soon possible after entry.

This Defective Foreclosure Was the Scariest Thing I Saw on Halloween

I’ve called Tennessee’s non-judicial foreclosure process “a little scary.” It follows a byzantine process, is all paperwork, there’s no judge involved, and a single misstep can lead to your foreclosure being challenged.

Tennessee offers a unique pitfall for the unwary: It’s a “two track” state, meaning that a foreclosing lender must satisfy the requirements of both the Tennessee foreclosure statutes and the requirements agreed to by the parties in the Deed of Trust.

And those two tracks don’t always align.

On that note, let me tell you about the sale of a multi-million dollar property I watched on October 31 .

The Notice of Foreclosure Sale was first published in the Nashville Ledger on October 11, 2024 , and the sale was set for October 31, 2024 at 10AM at the Davidson County Courthouse.

That’s a tight timeline, since Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-101(b) requires that “The first publication shall be at least twenty (20) days previous to the sale.” In fact, by my own math, the 10/31 sale date fell on the twentieth day after publication, and I wondered whether, legally, this sale satisfied this statute (maybe, maybe not).

It didn’t matter, because I then read the Deed of Trust.

The Deed of Trust adds an extra day to § 35-5-101(b) minimum and requires that the first publication precede the sale by 21 days. This sale clearly didn’t satisfy that requirement.

About 6 bidders attended the sale, but none of them bid. The bank bought the commercial property for nearly $4 Million, and, in the Trustee’s Deed, recited the following:

Did the foreclosing lender double-check the Deed of Trust text? Is this a valid sale? Did good title convey from this sale? Did the failure to follow the terms of the Deed of Trust chill the bidders’ interest? Would this qualify as an “irregular” sale that would prevent collection on any unpaid debt pursuant to Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-117? Lots of interesting issues flowing from this sale.

I don’t like “interesting issues” on my foreclosures. When I prepare a sale notice, I check and double-check everything. When I’ve got a bunch of foreclosures set, you’ll find pen dots all over my calendar, from all the day-counting.

Foreclosures are complicated, and the failure to get it right can result in a challenge from all different directions. A borrower who doesn’t want to lose the property. A buyer who may not receive clear title. A lender who expects you to follow the process. A bankruptcy trustee who wants to blow it all up.

It’s a tricky process, and there’s too much risk when making an error. None of the goblins who visited my house later that night scared me more than what I saw happen at that foreclosure.

Can a Tennessee foreclosure be continued without written notice? We don’t know (yet).

The Tennessee Supreme Court hasn’t yet issued a ruling in the Terry Case v. Wilmington Trust case, which was argued before it nearly a year ago. It’s an important case for foreclosure attorneys, since the case will decide what impact an (allegedly) defective foreclosure sale has on title: Does the sale convey valid title or not?

That’s the “big picture” issue, but the case also touches on an important mechanical issue: Whether an attorney can rely on the clear text of Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-101(f) when continuing foreclosure sales for less than 30 days.

In Case, the “boilerplate” text of the deed of trust required all notices by either party to be in writing. But, in the foreclosure statutes, Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-101(f)(3) expressly a creditor to continue a foreclosure upon an oral announcement, if the continuance is for less than 30 days. Because the attorneys for Wilmington only made an oral announcement of the continuance and didn’t mail a notice, the borrower argued, they failed to comply with the “written notice” terms of the Deed of Trust. The Tennessee Court of Appeals agreed with the borrower, and it deemed the sale possibly invalid.

It’s an important question because nearly every Tennessee Deed of Trust will impose a duty on the parties to provide notices in writing. It’s a standard provision, designed to make sure that oral statements don’t amend, waive, or release the rights held by either party under the loan.

In fact, I’m preparing a foreclosure today, and the final provisions of deed of trust I’m foreclosing on has a “Notices” paragraph that says: “Any notice required to be given under this Deed of Trust, including without limitation any notice of default and any notice of sale shall be given in writing, and shall be effective when actually delivered, when actually received by telefacsimile (unless otherwise required by law), when deposited with a nationally recognized overnight courier, or, if mailed, when deposited in the United States mail. as first class, certified or registered mail postage prepaid, directed to the addresses shown near the beginning of this Deed of Trust.”

With the Tennessee Supreme Court’s decision looming, Tennessee foreclosure lawyers don’t have the clarity on how to reconcile these different directives.

But, having said that, until the Supreme Court decides, a smart foreclosure attorney will-as I’ve recommended in the past–always comply with the most onerous of all of the requirements, no matter if they are in the deed of trust, a loan agreement, or the foreclosure statutes.

One of the scary things about a non-judicial foreclosure in Tennessee is that it’s all “paperwork,” and there’s no judge involved…until a party challenges the process. You don’t know you’ve messed something up until long after the fact. Foreclosures are careful, deliberate work, and not for the faint of heart. When in doubt over the requirements, I follow them all.

Foreclosures Are Back! (And what this means for Nashville and Bankruptcy Lawyers)

Maybe it’s a harbinger of a worsening economy, the lack of new commercial lending, high interest rates scaring buyers away, or just that secured lenders are sick of being patient, but Nashville is seeing more commercial foreclosures lately.

Obviously, the pending foreclosure of Plaza Mariachi earlier this month made top headlines, but the increase of foreclosure sale notices in the local newspapers suggest that more lenders are taking that final step.

In full transparency, I wrote we’d see an increase foreclosures back in 2022, and I was generally wrong.

Right now, things seem different. Borrowers don’t have access to the same borrowed funds they had over the past 2-3 years. The exuberant “new money” buyers pouring into the market seem to have slowed down. Both the lenders and borrowers can see the “bottom of the river” regarding cash flow and business income.

As much as we’ve been kicking the can down the road on various deals, we keep ending up at the same place, with foreclosure the only remaining exit strategy.

Next week, I have 5 commercial foreclosures set over the course of two days; the week after that, I have 2.

The next storm cloud on the horizon will be whether Nashville has enough bankruptcy lawyers who can service the needs of a city the size of Nashville.

As that post shows, I’ve been wrong for years about the pending explosion in new bankruptcy cases (it’s largely never happened), so maybe I’m wrong about the lack of bankruptcy attorneys.

I don’t think I am. Faced with a pending foreclosure, Plaza Mariachi filed for chapter 11 bankruptcy, but the lead debtor’s attorney is a firm out of Phoenix, Arizona.

If you are a new lawyer, looking for a viable practice area, I’ll repeat the advice I gave in July 2020:  Learn Bankruptcy.

Tennessee’s New Squatter Law Solves a Problem We Didn’t Have, and Maybe Creates a New One

Sometimes, when the Tennessee Legislature tries to solve a problem, they inadvertently create one or two other problems.

They might have done that with the “squatters” statute that took effect on July 1, 2024.

In common parlance, a “squatter” is a person who takes possession of property without any rightful claim. In my mind’s eye, I picture a modern-day pirate, moving into your home and declaring “This is MY house now!”

In my 25 years of eviction and property litigation, I’ve actually never dealt with a squatter. I’ve certainly never perceived it to be a problem that justified special legislative attention.

Effective July 1, 2024, we now have Tenn. Code Ann. § 29-18-135, titled “Limited alternative remedy to remove unauthorized persons from residential real property.” This statute is added to the end of Title 29, Chapter 18, which are the eviction and detainer statutes.

This new statute creates a process by which a property owner can, by filling out a checklist form, direct the Sheriff to remove an “unauthorized person” from the property, without a court proceeding.

By its clear text, “a property owner…may request from the sheriff of the county in which the property is located the immediate removal of any person unlawfully occupying a residential dwelling pursuant to this section if…[a]n unauthorized person has unlawfully entered and remains on the property owner’s [residential] property” and “[t]he unauthorized person is not a current or former tenant…” (this is heavily paraphrased, so be sure to look at subpart (d) in full).

The word “squatter” isn’t in this statute. Instead, the statute deals with “any person unlawfully occupying a residential dwelling” who “has unlawfully entered and remains or continues to reside” on the property and who “is not a current or former tenant…” and “is not an immediate family member of the property owner.”

That’s a pretty broad definition, and it seems to include persons not routinely labelled “squatters.” For instance, wouldn’t a foreclosed homeowner be subject to this statute? They are no longer the “owner,” they aren’t a “current or former tenant,” and if they stay at the property after the foreclosure deed is recorded, the possession is “unlawful.”

In my experience, “squatters” simply haven’t been a bane to Tennessee property owners’ existence. I’m not saying it never happens (and I’m sure that all it takes is one years’ long fight with a squatter to change my mind), but it seems like the existing statutes provide a good remedy, and, at best, this statute puts an awkward amount of judicial discretion into the hands of the local sheriff (who probably would rather all this be decided by a judge).

The Graceland Foreclosure shows the risks of Tennessee’s non-judicial foreclosure process.

I was born in Memphis and, of course, I’m an Elvis fan.

I was shocked to see–on the national news–that Graceland was facing foreclosure. A few days later, it all just…went away and explained as a hoax. I was surprised, but not totally surprised by these strange turn of events. It rarely happens, but foreclosures in Tennessee are ripe for exploitation by bad actors.

Here’s why: Tennessee is a non-judicial foreclosure state, and courts are rarely involved in the process.

At its most simple, Tenn. Code Ann. § 35-5-101 requires a lender to: (1) publish a notice of the sale 3 times in a local newspaper; and (2) send a copy of the notice to the property owner by certified mail. With just a bit of paperwork, voilà, you can sell somebody’s property.

It’s a cost efficient process for legitimate lenders, but it can be exploited by fraudsters and and paper terrorists, who present bogus claims and hope that their efforts will be ignored or not challenged.

Once a foreclosure is started, there are limited ways for a property owner to stop it, short of filing bankruptcy or filing a lawsuit to obtain an injunction pursuant to Tenn. Code Ann. § 29-23-201 (which is as complicated as it sounds–Graceland’s lawyers filed a 61 document to stop this sale).

When I saw the news about Graceland’s foreclosure, I immediately looked up the Notice of Foreclosure Sale published by Naussany Investments and Private Lending LLC, and noticed red flags. The Deed of Trust had been not been recorded; the lender didn’t have an attorney; and the Notice of Sale lacked the level of detail a typical lender foreclosing on a historic, world-famous property would include.

In short, it all just seemed weird. In reality, it ended up being ten times weirder. It was all a scam, based on fraudulent documents, with a Nigerian based email scammer publicly claiming credit.

As bizarre as all this was, here’s the scary part: This could happen to anybody in a non-judicial foreclosure state. Here, the fraudsters were simply too ambitious, picking a famous property owned by a deep-pocketed and litigious owner.

What about properties by people who don’t understand the process, don’t read the newspaper and/or sign for certified mail, don’t have access to lawyers, or don’t have the money to fight? There are no official safeguards in the system to protect homeowners.

The newspaper doesn’t question the validity of the lender’s claims in submitted advertisements. The mailman doesn’t either. Once the sale is over, the local Register of Deeds just checks for valid notary stamps and payment of the transfer taxes. In some cases, by the time the owner discovers the fraud, there’s already a new deed recorded.

In 2016, I wrote an article for the Nashville Bar Journal titled, “Is your Potential Client a Nigerian King?” As part of that, I learned something wild about the email scammers’ unique business model: They expect to fail 99% of the time. They aren’t bothered by that fail rate, though, because they know that the upside to a single victory justifies all the work.

Sure, these scammers failed to foreclose on Graceland, but how many other times have they succeeded? And how many more times are they going to try?

Law Firms: To avoid Malpractice Claims, Remember that Tennessee Judgments Expire in Ten Years

Tennessee judgments expire after ten years.

As a creditor lawyer, one of my greatest fears is that one of the many judgments that I’ve taken over the past 10 years is set to expire and I have forgotten about it.

It is so easy to renew judgments under Tenn. R. Civ. P. 69.04, but it’s also easy to forget about those old files. If a law firm forgets, it could get sued for malpractice. It’s a big deal.

Earlier this week, the Tennessee Court of Appeals touched on this issue. See John Doe Corp. v. Kennerly, Montgomery & Finley, P.C., E2023-00236-COA-R3-CV (Tenn. Ct. App. May 28, 2024).

In the case, after the 10 year period expired on an old judgment, the judgment creditor client sued its former lawyers, alleging that the law firm “had failed to inform Plaintiff that the judgment would expire after ten years or that it needed to seek to extend the judgment prior to its expiration.”

The trial court dismissed the claims against the law firm, because the client failed to have filed the lawsuit within the one-year attorney malpractice statute of limitations. The opinion doesn’t really focus on the renewal issue; the real analysis is on issues of recusal and the different standards under Tenn. R. Civ. P. 59.04 and 60.02.


But, back to creditor rights. Is this is victory for the law firm? Not really, because lawyers don’t like being sued for malpractice in the first place.

Since starting my firm nearly 4 years ago, I’ve opened 639 new cases. Before that, I handled a similarly busy caseload at my old firm. In the past 10 years, I’ve taken 100s of judgments.

It would be a cold comfort to me to know that, if my client sues me for malpractice, I could possibly defend the case on a technicality.

Having said that, how can lawyers mitigate that risk? The answer is in a Court of Appeals decision I wrote about in 2019. There, the malpractice claims turned on whether the law firm warned the client, at any point, that the judgment needed to be renewed in ten years. Because the law firm had previously warned the client about the 10 year expiration, the client had knowledge of the possible malpractice claims that accrued at the time of non-renewal (and not a later date).

Look at the text of the John Doe case: the client alleged that the law firm “had failed to inform Plaintiff that the judgment would expire after ten years or that it needed to seek to extend the judgment prior to its expiration.”

If you’re like me, a busy lawyer with many judgments, remember my advice from 2019: “A good practice is to make sure that the client understands that it has a responsibility in ten years to notify you that it wants you to take this action.”

In a perfect world, my advice is to calendar judgments and simply avoid this issue altogether.

A separate safeguard could be, in that initial congratulatory email, sending a copy of the judgment to the client, to always include text that clearly discusses the validity and expiration of the Judgment in terms that the client can understand.

Nevermind the Kombucha Jokes: WeWork Bankruptcy shows the power of 11 USC § 365

When WeWork filed bankruptcy last year, the reactions fell into two general buckets.

On a business level, the commercial real estate folks brought a “told you so” energy, calling this the end of flexible office space. On twitter, it was mostly jokes about former CEO/guru-preneur, Adam Neumann, poking fun at the company’s unchecked growth, sustained by freely flowing investor money, and boozy office vibes.

The bankruptcy lawyers had a different take. If current operations were struggling with past bad decisions, there was an obvious path for the company to right-size, by selective assumption and rejection of leases under 11 U.S.C. § 365.

That’s exactly what happened, as WeWork expects to emerge from the chapter 11 having negotiated approximately $8 billion (more than 40%) in reductions in rent obligations.

In a typical bankruptcy, a tenant usually is presented a “take it or leave it” choice on leases. Not WeWork. Whether it was a function of a bad CRE market or the scope of their leases, WeWork used chapter 11 to negotiate lots of concessions from its landlords.

A survey of recent “assumption” orders shows rent reductions, premise and term reductions, conversions to “gross” lease terms, and modifications to guarantees.

Sure, landlords can say “no” to changes like this, but these landlords aren’t.

It’s a smart move, and an indication that serious business people are in charge.

As a tenant of WeWork, I can confirm that the days of booze and debauchery are long gone. In fact, I’d say that they’ve over-corrected. (Ask me about the short-lived decision a few years ago to remove trash cans from individual offices.)

What is in store for the Nashville locations? We don’t know yet. My review of the Bankruptcy Court docket suggests that the debtor has taken no action on the four locations in Nashville.

Pursuant to an Order signed by the Bankruptcy Court on April 29, 2024, the current deadline for these decisions is June 3, 2024. So far, they’ve dealt with only a fraction of the landlords, but I expect lots of activity over the next month.

We’ll know the future of the Nashville locations soon.