BancFirst v. CowHawk Trust dated December 17, 2018
What's This Case About?
Let’s get one thing straight: this isn’t your average “I forgot to pay my mortgage” sob story. We’re talking about a bank trying to seize nearly a million dollars’ worth of Oklahoma dirt because someone skipped out on a loan that was originally over a million bucks — and now it’s accruing interest at a 21% annual rate, like it’s some kind of high-stakes vampire contract that feeds on late payments. Welcome to CrazyCivilCourt, where the stakes are high, the deeds are messy, and the only thing more aggressive than the interest rate is the foreclosure paperwork.
So who are these people? On one side, we’ve got BancFirst — not some shadowy Wall Street titan, but a proud Oklahoma-based bank that’s been handing out loans since 1905. They’re the plaintiff here, the ones holding the paper and demanding answers. On the other side? A trust with a name straight out of a Wes Anderson film: the CowHawk Trust, dated December 17, 2018. Yes, it’s named after a bird, yes, it has a birthdate, and yes, it’s legally a defendant in a foreclosure case. The trust is managed by James Richard Diver and Renee Christen Diver — real people, real names, real trustees — who apparently thought naming their estate plan after a raptor was a good idea. (Spoiler: It might not age well.) Also dragged into this legal rodeo are the IRS, the Oklahoma Tax Commission, the Delaware County Treasurer, Bank of Grand Lake, and SpiritBank — because apparently, when you default on a loan, everyone wants a piece of your land.
Now, let’s unpack what actually went down. Back on September 15, 2021, the CowHawk Trust signed a promissory note for $1,078,891.50 — let’s just call it “just under $1.1 million” — with BancFirst. In exchange for that mountain of cash, the Divers, acting as trustees, put up a chunk of Oklahoma real estate as collateral. And not just any plot — we’re talking about a very specific patch of Delaware County that sounds like it was copy-pasted from a surveyor’s fever dream: “The West Half of the Northeast Quarter of the Northwest Quarter” and so on, like a geometry problem designed by a bored cowboy. There’s also a 16.5-foot alleyway in a subdivision called Holiday Hill Estates Unit 2, which sounds less like a luxury development and more like a mobile home park with aspirations.
This property was officially mortgaged, recorded on September 17, 2021, and all seemed well in the world of high-dollar rural real estate. But somewhere between 2021 and 2026, things went sideways. Payments stopped. The note defaulted. And now, BancFirst is demanding $924,768.33 — not the full original loan, but still a nine-figure sum — plus interest at 21% per year, starting from the day this petition was filed: March 27, 2026. Let that sink in. If you don’t pay this by April 1st, your balance just grew by over $500 a day. That’s not a loan — that’s a financial black hole.
And it gets juicier. While BancFirst claims it’s first in line (meaning its lien has top priority), it’s not the only one circling the property like vultures at a rest stop. The IRS? Oh, they’ve got a federal tax lien against the Divers for a cool $1.3 million, filed in February 2024. That’s more than the amount BancFirst is currently seeking. But here’s the twist: BancFirst insists its mortgage was recorded before the IRS lien, so even though the feds are packing a bigger number, they’re legally stuck in the back of the foreclosure line. It’s like showing up to a concert with a backstage pass… only to find out someone else already claimed the dressing room.
Meanwhile, Bank of Grand Lake and SpiritBank also have mortgages on the same property — SpiritBank’s as recently as March 3, 2026, just weeks before this lawsuit dropped. And yet, BancFirst says all these other claims are “junior and inferior.” Translation: “We were here first, so everyone else can wait.” It’s the real estate version of “I called shotgun!”
So why are they in court? Simple: foreclosure. BancFirst wants the court to officially declare that the CowHawk Trust defaulted, that the mortgage is valid, and that the bank has the right to take the property and sell it to recover the debt. Legally, this is called an in rem action — meaning the lawsuit is against the property itself, not just the people. It’s like the land committed a crime, and now it’s being sentenced. They’re also asking for a declaratory judgment (a court saying “yes, this is how things stand”) and injunctive relief (a court order to stop anyone else from messing with the property). Basically, BancFirst wants to lock the doors, post a “Keep Out” sign, and start auctioning off the acreage.
Now, about that $924,768.33 demand. Is that a lot? Well, yes and no. Compared to the original loan, it’s actually less — maybe some payments were made, or maybe the bank wrote off part of the debt. But in the world of rural Oklahoma real estate, nearly a million bucks is plenty. For context, the median home price in Delaware County is around $150,000. This property is likely a large tract of land — possibly used for ranching, hunting, or speculation — but still, four times the average home value is a serious chunk of change. And with 21% interest piling on, this isn’t just a debt — it’s a time bomb.
What do they want? Full payment, obviously. But if the Divers and their trust don’t cough up the cash, BancFirst wants the court to order the property sold at auction and use the proceeds to pay off the debt. They also want attorney fees and court costs — because nothing says “I’m serious” like billing by the hour while your client repossesses a ranch. And most dramatically, they want the court to permanently bar all defendants from ever claiming ownership again. That’s the legal equivalent of saying, “You had your chance. Game over.”
Now, here’s our take: the most absurd part of this whole mess isn’t the interest rate, the bird-themed trust, or even the IRS showing up with a $1.3 million tab. It’s the timing. SpiritBank filed a modified mortgage in March 2026 — just weeks before BancFirst sued — which suggests someone was desperately trying to refinance or restructure while the ship was already sinking. And the IRS lien from February 2024? That’s been sitting there for over two years. How did BancFirst not see this coming? Did they just assume the Divers were sitting on a pile of cash and good intentions?
We’re also low-key rooting for the CowHawk Trust — not because they’re innocent, but because naming your trust after a bird of prey is a power move. Even in defeat, they’ve achieved a kind of poetic dignity. “The CowHawk Trust was foreclosed upon today by BancFirst” sounds like the opening line of a country song. And let’s be real: if you’re going to lose your land, you might as well do it with flair.
At the end of the day, this case is less about money and more about the quiet drama of rural finance — where a missed payment can spiral into a legal war involving banks, the federal government, and a trust named after a bird that probably doesn’t even live in Oklahoma. We’re entertainers, not lawyers, but if this goes to auction, we’re calling it now: the winning bid should be paid in cowbells and regret.
Stay tuned. Next time on CrazyCivilCourt: someone sues their neighbor because the chickens crossed the property line. Again.
Case Overview
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BancFirst
business
Rep: Tommy R. Dyer, Jr., O.B.A. #13594
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CowHawk Trust dated December 17, 2018
business
Rep: James Richard Diver and Renee Christen Diver, Trustees
- James Richard Diver and Renee Christen Diver, Trustees of the CowHawk Trust dated December 17, 2018 individual
- The State of Oklahoma Ex. Rel. Oklahoma Tax Commission government
- The United States of America ex rel Department of the Treasury – Internal Revenue Service government
- The Delaware County Treasurer government
- Bank of Grand Lake business
- SpiritBank business
| # | Cause of Action | Description |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Foreclosure of Real Estate Mortgage | Plaintiff seeks to foreclose a mortgage on real property due to default in payment of a promissory note |